#(- Was a thing) But why did we forget about Hebe? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aphroditelovesu · 2 years

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Yandere Greek Gods - Profile

"It's a waste to be immortal and spend the rest of immortality without you by my side." - Greek Gods.

❝⚡— lady l: so I started writing the Greek Gods profiles a few weeks ago, just a few left, but I decided to post the older ones today. Here is the profile of Zeus, Hera, Demeter, Poseidon, Hades and Hestia. As always, any mistakes I'm sorry, I didn't have time to review.

❝tw: yandere themes in general, dub-con, possessive and obsessive behavior. If you feel uncomfortable with any of these themes, I recommend not reading.

❝⚡ pairing: yandere!greek gods x gender neutral!reader

❝word counter: 2k+

ROMANTIC

Zeus is the God of the Gods, the sky, lightning, order and justice and the King of Olympus. He is married to Hera and they have four children: Hebe, Ares, Ilithyia and Hephaestus. In some versions Eris and Ennius. He owns countless bastards.

"I promise to be faithful to you, my love."

Zeus is a big bitch, whatever kind of interest he has in you at first will be sexual unless you're a kid, but if you're not, you can be sure the King of Olympus will try to get into your pants or dress.

Unfortunately you've caught Zeus' eye and now you'll have to deal with it.

At first, Zeus' interest in you is purely sexual. You, a human, managed to attract his attention, even if it wasn't on purpose, and now you'll have a Greek god obsessed with you and wanting to sleep with you. If you agree to sleep with him, he's usually expected to forget about you and go back to normal life, you know, behind other mortals and goddess. But that's not what happened. For some reason Zeus became fixated on you. And he doesn't plan on going anywhere.

Now if you didn't agree to sleep with him, things could get more interesting. Zeus will continue to pursue you, perhaps even try to kidnap and force you, but if you can resist him, you will find yourself attracting Zeus' fascination. No one had ever denied it before. And that will only make him feel more desire for you.

Zeus won't be faithful to you, that's a fact, no matter how obsessed he is with you, not even the twisted love he feels for you would be able to keep the god's insatiable lust for mortals and goddesses alike. But hey, at least as long as he's having fun with some mortal or goddess, you'll have a break from Zeus' smothering behavior. So maybe his infidelity isn't so bad for you.

"My queen/king, how about we go to a room?"

Kinks: adoration (you adoring him) and rough sex.

Nicknames: my love and my queen/king.

POSSESSIVE

Hera is the Queen of Olympus, wife of Zeus, Greek goddess of marriage, motherhood, wives and women.

"Why did you go to that window?! Don't lie to me! You were probably looking at your lover! Guess what, I'm going to rip him/her to shreds!"

Hera is the most possessive yandere in the entire Greek pantheon. If you looked outside your room, you probably wanted to look for your lover. The goddess is very paranoid, she won't allow you to look, talk or even breathe in someone's direction. You belong to her and if you dared to disobey you would be punished.

There was something about you that attracted her, she wasn't sure what it was, maybe it was innocence, how easy you could be manipulated, how you could be molded to become her perfect doll. Someone who will always be faithful and loyal to Hera, only to her, is something that she is very attracted to.

In a platonic yandere, her possessiveness will continue, but she wouldn't hurt you, especially if you're a child. She could never lay a finger on you.

As much as Hera tries to deny it, she secretly adores you, she knows she is in love with you, but she will never admit it. It is you who has to be controlled by her, not the other way around.

As long as you remain loyal to your Queen, you will be rewarded handsomely.

"I want to go to the beach today. And you'll come with me. Oh, remember, don't talk to anyone. I love you..."

Kinks: mommykink (I really imagine a yandere Hera having this fetish).

Nicknames: Darling, Little Peacock.

DELIRIOUS

Demeter is the Greek goddess of agriculture and the harvest. Sister of Zeus, Hera, Hestia, Poseidon and Hades, mother of Persephone.

"Flower, do you want to go see the mortals starting the sowing season?"

Demeter is definitely a delusional yandere, ok, she literally created winter when her beloved daughter was taken from her.

She is very delusional, she believes you are in a relationship even before she greets you. You can be sure she will spoil you, when Persephone is in the underworld, her attention and devotion will be just for you. She knows it's wrong to use you as a cover-up, but she doesn't care.

You will not be allowed to leave her sight, Demeter has become very paranoid after her daughter was taken from her and she will not allow you to walk away from her either.

Her delusional behavior won't change even if she's a platonic yandere, it might get worse, since she'll see you as a substitute when her daughter isn't around. That doesn't mean you'll be forgotten when Persephone returns, Demeter will force you into her family and make you love Persephone like your own daughter (if she's romantic) or your sister.

Demeter would love to teach you about farming if you asked. She would love to have children with you, would find a way to get you pregnant with her baby (if you're a woman) or get pregnant with you.

Overall Demeter isn't exactly dangerous, isn't impulsive and tends to act with a bit of rationality. Just be careful with her, because if you don't do what she wants, she will act in a way... suspicious.

"What? Don't you want to go visit Persephone with me? Don't you want to see your daughter/sister? Well, you'll come anyway."

Kinks: breeding kink.

Nicknames: Fower, Little Seed.

OVERPROTECTIVE

Poseidon is the Greek god of the seas, earthquakes and horses. Brother of Zeus, Hera, Hestia, Demeter and Hades.

"Y/N-sea, where do you think you're going? No, I already warned you that it's forbidden to leave my temple. It's too dangerous."

You've probably only met Poseidon if you spend a lot of time at the beach. He rarely leaves his Palace underwater, but after a heated argument with his niece, Athena, Poseidon decided to head to one of Crete's Greek beaches, and by sheer coincidence (for you at least), you were on the beach. Poseidon was stunned when he saw you. You were so beautiful, sure, but there was something else about you.

Poseidon is overprotective, he doesn't like and doesn't accept you leaving his palace or temple. You belonged by his side, where he knows you'll be safe. Well, safe from others, but not from him.

He will hurt you if he has to to make you understand that the only place you'll be safe is by his side. Poseidon won't mind having to kill anyone who tries to harm you by drowning, earthquake victim, or trampled by horses. He would kill even your family if they hurt you in any way, physical or otherwise.

As long as you stay safe you will be able to deal with Poseidon's volatile temper. He will hurt you yes, but only if it's really necessary.

"Siren, do you want to go for a swim? Nothing will hurt you."

Kinks: Anything that involves you being naked and wet.

Nicknames: Y/N-sea, siren.

SOFT

Hades is the Greek god of the underworld and the dead’s. Brother of Zeus, Hera, Poseidon, Demeter and Hestia.

"Why do you want to leave the underworld? I know it's not Olympus but I can still make it perfect for you, my pom."

Hades is a god with an inferiority complex, yes I know, but when you are hated by all gods and mortals just because you are the god of the underworld (something that wasn't even Hades' choice) you tend to become paranoid and insecure.

See, Hades will never hurt you. He loves you so much and could never lift a finger to hurt you, he would rather kill himself than do that. But he wants to keep you with him, so if you don't willingly stay with him in the underworld, you can be sure he'll feed you pomegranates. You know, just so you stay by his side.

You would be spoiled and cared for by Hades, he would be completely faithful to you, unlike... certain gods. Hades would never betray you, he is yours alone and will remain yours alone as long as you want to.

He will also never force you into anything, he would never do something so horrible to you or anyone else. If your relationship progressed it's because you accepted it, Hades wouldn't force you to get involved with him sexually or romantically. You must stay on his side, that's something he's not willing to negotiate, but if you don't want to get into a relationship with him, Hades will accept.

Hades is one of the safest options in the pantheon for getting stuck. He would never force you or hurt you, the god can be a little scary at first but you will eventually get used to and maybe falling in love with him.

"Do you want to play with Cerberus a little? You know he loves you as much as I do."

Kinks: adoration (like, you know, he would adore you all over, taking all his time to explore every part of your body).

Nicknames: Pom (derived from pomegranate), Sweetheart, Soul.

PLATONIC

Hestia is the Greek goddess of the hearth, home, architecture, family, state of hospitality and domestic life. Sometimes she is replaced by Dionysus in the pantheon. Sister of Zeus, Hades, Hera, Demeter and Poseidon.

"Don't worry, little fire. I'll keep you warm in this harsh winter."

Hestia is a soft and gentle goddess, she is the representation of the comfort of home. In the arms of the goddess, you will feel a false sense of security. With her, you know you can trust and just let yourself be heard by the goddess, she loves to hear you tell anything about yourself or something that ails you, for her, that's the way you show that you trust her as much as she does. you.

The goddess is one of the virgin goddesses and so is more likely to remain a platonic yandere for you. Even if the goddess becomes obsessed with you, her relationship will only be platonic. Maybe if she really does fall in love with you, she'll try to start a romantic relationship with you, but it won't have anything sexual. Because of her oath, she will remain a virgin, so you can be sure sex is off the table when it comes to her.

Hestia is soft and benevolent, she is calm and balanced, her emotions don't control her, which makes her much easier to deal with. She would never hurt you, she sees you as a fragile being who must be protected and loved and she is more than willing to do that. When Hestia first met you, she was immediately attracted to you, a young and naive child and desperate for love, any kind of love, the goddess knew she had to have you. Because of her naivete, Hestia knows how easily you can be destroyed by the evils that plague the world and she won't let that happen.

Hestia is, in fact, the safest option of the Yandere Greek gods. She is sensitive, gentle and kind, she knows yours limits and that she must not exceed them. The goddess just wants to keep you safe and happy, as long as you are in her arms she will make sure you are loved and cared for and nothing and no one will lay a finger on you. Hestia is a highly respected goddess, so she can be sure nothing will be happening to you.

"Don't worry, honey. I promise to keep you warm and safe in my arms."

Kinks: Aftercare. Although sex won't actually happen, she likes to be cared for and given affection.

Nicknames: Little Fire, Honey.

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antiloreolympus · 2 years

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5 Anti LO Asks

1. 191 spoilers: so Hebe basically grew into Hera 2.0, Persephone basically said nothing was her fault when a lot of it really was her fault, she thinks her green hands are a turn off (can she stop being hypersexual for one minute please), and she lives in a treehouse now??

What the fuck happened in that four month hiatus, seriously

2. Reading episode 191 was somehow rage-inducing and depressing at the same time.

We're still on the "Persephone did nothing wrong and shouldn't be punished"-train. Everyone, including the narrative, gives Zeus crap for doing what every sensible authority figure in his stead would have done. We're somehow supposed to pity Persephone for....being sent to a safe environment with supportive friends to clean up the mess she made and refused to fess up about until literally being forced too.

Like jfc Peresphone isn't even doing any work??? The first time we see her she's creepily hitting on an inanimate object and hiding away from her responsibilities??? The bare fucking minimum and she's too lazy and self-absorbed to do even that???

Oh, and we get zero news about how Demeter's feeling or doing meanwhile, because who gives a shit about her, she was just there in the first place to be an obstacle for hxp to overcome.

3. How come nobody's eyebrows are ever normal in LO. Why are they always pitch black blobs

4. The new chapter is just confusing . Hebe is a Hera clone. Like I was literally so confused why Zeus and Hera would on decent terms. I get she’s older to show time has passed, so why right now is Zeus thinking Persephone? What’s special about today? She still hasn’t done any of her tasks, so why after so long would we even question it?

Flash back to the trial: I’m sorta confused what the importance was to the freak out. Are they freaking out because they can’t go to the mortal realm, losing Demeter to a less qualified goddess to handle her job, or as Poseidon puts it “you lost the closest thing to the queen of the underworld” (are we forgetting that hades planned on proposing to Minthe but never got the chance)

Persephone: “hey guys I’ve been banished for a long ass time, but at least my ears as pierced am I right??” I also hate how she goes “some of it’s my fault but not all of it.” She’s had 0 growth I feel, she killed a bunch of people and she’s more focused on the whole “well if my mom was just cool about my fertility powers/if I was just zeus’ kid he would have let me off the hook”

Is that nymph Daphne? Persephone was able to save her tree form but not Minthe? Or is Persephone just choosing not to save Minthe as a whole “I don’t need to help out the people who’ve hurt me” idk

Artemis, Thanatos, Eris: aren’t they not allowed to see Persephone or have any contact with her or they’d be heavily punished.

Why is Helios there? He’s been pretty indifferent about Persephone.

Prediction: the next couple chapters is gonna be a failed meeting with Zeus and then a flash back catching everyone up to speed, but it’s gonna take so long at first to get there.

-----FP Spoilers/Mention-----

5. Okay so I read the new chapters bc why not and tbh I was pleasantly surprised with how the characters were drawn in the premiere. Idk but they felt like they had more time put into them and their hands especially were really nice and looked like they came from a reference. That all changed in the next chapters tho ofc.:/

Fast Past Spoiler:

The time skip in itself is not bad, but oh my god it feels like none of the characters have actually changed except Artemis’ relationship with Zeus. Like they’re all the same characters just grown up a bit, but only characters like hebe actually show that. And of course everyone is so up in arms over Persephones punishment. I can get why Hades would be mad and why Poseidon would be upset because his brother won’t talk to him anymore, but everyone else is wayyy too upset over some random girl. Like everyone but Artemis hates Zeus rn and EVERYONE loves Persephone. And god the whole Minthe and Daphne thing? The point of their stories were that they were the victims of a tragic circumstance. In the case of Minthe, because of her own doing, and Daphne, because of Apollo. It’s like there are no consequences for anyone who Persephone likes. Daphne and Minthe should’ve stayed as plants. It would be the end of their stories and would equate to actual loss for Persephone. I see Rachel hasn’t gotten any better at writing. So much wasted potential to turn the story into a chance for growth in both the characters and writing. The only thing I liked out of the four new episodes was the touching moment between Zeus and Artemis. Why has their relationship grown and changed but no one else’s? This story feels more about Zeus and his actions and consequences and growth than Persephones tbh.

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

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combat-wombatus · 3 years

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Crimson Snow

Pairing: Hawks (Takami Keigo) x Fem!Reader

Genre: angst :’) (a lil bit of fluff thrown in here and there)

Warnings: mentions of blood, character death.

WC: 7.8k. am i sorry? no.

Summary: Childhood friends doesn’t always equal lovers in the future. You wished that was the case, but ever since Keigo disappeared, you found it hard to believe in love again.

(A/N): this was. i had to write this. it wasn’t up for debate. finishing this at 4am in the morning aldksjfhajshd. spent a grant total of 2 days brainstorming & writing this fic. not proofread at all. heavily inspired by the song 小幸运 by Hebe Tien. i strongly suggest you give it a try and listen to it as you read this :p (for all my chinese speakers out there...let’s see how you deal with this heartbreak :’) so yeah. i’m actually...really really proud of this fic. i tried a new format with this, and i think i kinda like it. also i left the ending up to interpretation if you don’t read the epilogue. enjoy!

credit for this au goes to @wafflesandkruge

here’s the link to the music :)

youtube

The one constant in your life.

The boy who’d always been there for you, through the dark days and the cold nights, holding your hand through it all.

The one who’d held you when you broke down.

The one who’d tucked you under his wings as the skies crackled with energy, rain pouring from the heavens, and told you that no matter where you went, he’d stay with you. He’d keep you nice and dry, snuggled close to his body as he shielded you from the storm.

The one constant in your life.

He’d left quietly in the night, not stopping by to say farewell.

In his place, he’d left a lonesome letter, tucked away beneath a boulder on your special hill.

“I’ll come back for you. Wait for me, okay?”

And from within that plain white envelope, a single red feather floated out, carried on the autumn winds, drifting aimlessly.

Almost as if it were lost.

And in that moment, you felt as if you’d lost a part of yourself, a little piece of your soul.

You weren’t sure you were ever going to get it back.

Years passed. You waited. There was no sign of him

Not in the skies, not on the land, and even though you’d sometimes see him in the reflection of the water, sitting next to you as you told him about your day, he wasn’t really there either.

I won’t give up on him.

I’ll stay strong.

He told me he’d come back for me.

Against the test of time, your resolve never withered. It only grew, strong as steel, taking over the crevices in your heart where he’d left his mark.

I’ll wait for you, Kei.

But please…come back to me.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” Your friend called out enthusiastically from her position on the couch. “Come look!”

“What?” You stepped out of the kitchen, only to be greeted by a familiar face, smirking on the TV screen.

“Look at him! He’s this new hero, and he’s only 18! (Y/N)! He’s our age! Isn’t he hot?” She pointed at his flickering image. “His hero name is Hawks!” Squealing, she turned to you. “Isn’t that so cool?”

You stood in shock, the glass of water that you had been holding slipped from your fingers and shattered onto the floor. Liquid pooled around your feet, soaking your slippers, but you made no move to step aside.

“Woah! (Y/N), are you okay?” She jumped off the couch, rushing towards you. “Hey, (Y/N)? He’s cute and all but…this is a little bit much, isn’t it?” She looked at you with concern, eyebrows drawing tighter when you didn’t respond.

“(Y/N) …what’s wrong? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

Shaking yourself from your daze, you averted your eyes. “Ahh, I’m sorry. Uh…I just, I never thought I’d see him again.”

“Wait, you know him?” Your friend looked at you, surprised. “(Y/N) …did he do something to you?” She asked softly. “If he did, I don’t care how cute he is, I’m gonna kick his ass to high heaven if need be. Someone like that shouldn’t be a hero.”

You shook your head, chuckling a little. “No…no, there’s no need to do that. It’s just…it’s been a long time, and I just didn’t expect to see him.”

“Ahh. Well, step out of that puddle! Come on, let’s grab you some paper towels.”

Hey!

It’s me, (Y/N). I…I saw you on TV today. You look…different. In a good way, I suppose. You’ve bulked up a bit.

You never used to smile like that though. Not like…like you were smiling for others. Seeing you smile for the camera, well…it made me sad.

But I’m happy that you’re ok. I think it would probably be hard for you to find me, since obviously I’m not on the news. So I’ll come find you instead, yeah? What do you say we catch up sometime?

I miss you. I’m in college now. I’m doing pretty good. You’re an overachiever, aren’t you? 18 years old and you already have your own agency.

Not that I’m complaining. Thanks for making it so easy for me to find you :)

So…let’s meet up sometime, when you have time? Maybe for some coffee? I know a quaint little place. It’s not too far away from your agency, three blocks to the right, turn left, and walk to the next intersection. It’s the corner shop. You can’t miss it.

I’ll wait for you there this Saturday, okay? I’ll do my work there. You can walk in whenever you have the time.

Your chicken, (Y/N)

Saturday came faster than you could prepare yourself. You checked your reflection repeatedly in the mirror, double-guessing your outfit decisions.

What if he doesn’t like it?

Is this too formal for a coffee date?

“Hey, (Y/N)!” Your friend barged into the bathroom. “I saw all the clothes on your bed! Are you going on a date?”

“Uh…just a meeting with an old friend. To catch up,” you explained.

She looked at you suspiciously. “Old friend…is it that guy on TV? Hawks?”

You grew flustered. “Err…yeah. If he got my letter.”

She looked you up and down, then dragged you into her closet. “Good thing I just went on a shopping spree last weekend then!” She pumped a fist excitedly in the air. “I’m giving you a makeover!”

Two hours later, you stood in front of the bathroom mirror once more. Your friend had put you through every single possible combination of outfits using both your closet and hers, and you had to agree that she had impeccable taste.

“Come on, you’re going to be late!” She shoved you out of the bathroom.

“I didn’t set a time!” You protested, laughing.

“Well, get your ass out of here! My boyfriend’s coming over!”

“So that’s the real reason you want me gone, hmm?” You teased her.

“Shush! Get out!”

Hawks was on patrol. You had been on his mind the entire week. Ever since your letter had reached his desk, he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

Thinking about you brought back happier times, and he wasn’t masochistic enough to give himself false hope.

No, it would be better for you to forget about him, and vice versa.

Still, he couldn’t stop himself. His body flew of its own accord, ignoring the sensibilities of his mind that screamed at it to stop.

Go back! The reasonable voice inside his head yelled.

Fly back!

His body refused to listen.

He found himself gently landing on a rooftop, right across the little café you told him to meet you at.

He even debated going inside. Just for a second. Just for a cup of coffee, to warm myself up in the chilly late-afternoon breeze, he told himself.

Then, he scoffed. Who was he kidding? If he went inside, he wouldn’t have the resolve to step back out before he saw you.

Shaking his head, he flew away as quickly as he could.

If he’d stayed a moment longer, he would’ve seen you walk down the street, humming a little tune to yourself.

Maybe then his resolve would’ve cracked.

Too bad he’ll never know.

Sitting alone at a table for two was an unpleasant feeling. Especially when you’re on your third drink, the waitress keeps eyeing you with pity, and you couldn’t concentrate on your work.

“Miss?” The waitress stopped by your table again. “Sorry to bother you, but we’re closing in 15 minutes.”

You checked the time on your laptop. Crap. It was already 5:15.

“Oh yeah, uhh, sorry to bother you!” You chuckle awkwardly. You quickly packed your books and laptop, dropped a $20 bill on the table, and hurried out the door. Walking home in silence, you tried your best not to feel too disappointed.

Maybe he just didn’t have time?

It’s ok. You’ll just ask him again, another time.

Another time.

You sent him countless letters. For the first year, at least. When he ignores all of them, you visit his agency in person.

As you walk through the glass doors, there’s a man sitting behind the reception desk.

“Hello, miss. How can I help you today?” He asks in the customary polite tone.

“I’m looking for Keigo. Hawks,” you answer, trying to hide your nervousness.

He looks at you suspiciously. “How do you know his first name?”

“We…we were childhood friends,” you tried to explain. “I…well, I haven’t seen him in a while.”

He took a closer look at you. “Can I ask for your name, miss?”

“(Y/N). (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

He sighed. “I’m afraid that you’ll have to leave the premises, Miss (Y/L/N). You’re not allowed to be here.”

What?

He hadn’t kicked you out before you told him your name.

“Why-” you started, but he cut you off.

“Miss (Y/L/N). I’m afraid that I have to ask you to leave, and don’t come back. Should I call security to escort you out?”

Holding back tears, you clutched your purse close to your chest and hurried out the glass doors, wishing nothing more than to shatter them into pieces.

You didn’t send any more letters after that.

Years pass. Every year on your birthday, Keigo gave you a feather.

“So I’ll always be with you,” he joked.

His feathers are extra durable, but time can wear down even the strongest things.

The last feather you got from him was ten years ago.

It can barely be considered a feather at this point, and you keep it in a special glass case so it can’t get any more worn down.

Ten years.

You’re turning 25 tomorrow.

Ten years of waiting around for him turned into ten years of watching him date other women. Ten years of hiding your pain every time another picture of him kissing a new girl graced the covers of the tabloids.

The first time, you cried yourself to sleep.

It wasn’t the last time.

Again and again, he breaks your heart.

By the third year, you convinced yourself to stop looking at the tabloids and the gossip sites.

By the fifth year, you scold yourself. You vow to stop crying over a stupid childhood crush.

By the seventh, you told yourself that you needed to forget about him. Step back into the dating ring, make out with someone else, and remove his presence entirely from your mind.

That didn’t work out.

Ten years.

It killed you to finally harden your resolve, but you told yourself that you couldn’t spend your whole life waiting for someone who was never going to love you back.

You’re turning 25 tomorrow, and you’re going to go on a date.

He’s watching you. He always is.

It makes him feel like a creepy stalker, but he can’t help it.

He watches you as you step into the restaurant, decked out in formal wear that looked amazing on you.

Going on a date. With someone who wasn’t him.

He stays on the rooftop, watching you through a window as you ate and laughed.

He wishes that he was the one making you laugh, that he was the one helping you order food from the menu, that he was the one sharing a dessert with you.

He’s selfish like that. It never does him any good.

He’s scared, really. Scared of commitment, tarnished by his time spent in the work program.

He sees you as the one thing in life that they can’t take away from him. You have this innocence, this purity that you always carry around with you, because you’re a part of a time when his life wasn’t so complicated.

He doesn’t want to shatter that illusion.

He never reached out to you because he’s scared.

He’s scared that he’ll break you.

He stopped sending you feathers, heart splintering every time your birthday comes around, hoping you’ll eventually forget him.

You don’t.

It’s not that you didn’t try.

No one else really interested you.

That is, until Masaki came along. He was bright, happy, always upbeat. He could find the words to cheer you up, to make a bad day that much better. He was attentive, caring, sweet.

He was everything that most people would look for in a partner.

And slowly, you began to open up to him too.

You fell into his embrace easier. You got a little happier when he came over for dinner.

You felt just a little safer when you were wrapped in his arms, a luxury you never thought you’d have.

Two years later, during a picnic date, he proposed.

You always had a love for picnic dates. Maybe because your first date, with Keigo, was a messy picnic affair during the spring, on top of a little hill where wildflowers bloomed and birds pecked at your leftovers.

“Stop!” You giggled, whipped cream smeared all over your cheeks. “You’re going to get it on my clothes!”

Keigo laughed, then popped another strawberry in your mouth. “You can wash that off later, silly! Just have fun!”

“It’s not fun when my clothes are all sticky,” you whined. “You try it! It feels gross!”

He smirked. “Oh really?”

Taking a strawberry, he dipped it in the container of cream you had brought, then stuck it down his shirt.

“Ha! Take that!” He gloated.

You stared at him in shock. “Did you just–”

“Yes I did! And it’s not gross at all, see?” He plucked the strawberry back out and shoved it in his mouth.

“Eww! Kei, that’s disgusting!”

“No it’s not, it still tastes like a strawberry! Mphm!” He chewed, licking his fingers.

He regretted that decision later, when bees swarmed the front of his shirt.

“Eek!” He shrieked, hopping backwards.

“Kei, take off your shirt!”

“It’s so sticky!” He yelped, trying to peel the front of his shirt away from his chest.

“I told you!”

“Hey, now is NOT the time for the ‘I told you so’ speech, okay?” He finally ripped his shirt off.

You couldn’t help it. You cackled.

“What now?” He looked at the bees feasting on his ruined tee.

“I told you so,” you teased him.

Taking one look at the devious glint in his eyes, you scooped up the picnic supplies and raced down the hill.

He followed, wings beating, taking off into the air. He reached you within seconds, tacking you to the ground.

“Hey, that’s not fair!” You struggled against him. “You know you’re fast when you fly!”

He looked at you mischievously. “And what about it?”

“You can’t race me like that when I’m on foot!”

“Who said we were racing?” His eyes locked on your lips. “I was just trying to catch up to you.”

You blushed, suddenly realizing how close his face was to yours.

“Kei–” you started.

“Can I kiss you?” He interrupted you, then quickly blushed. “I mean, only if you want to-”

You wrapped your hands in his hair, interrupting him with a kiss.

He tasted like the remnants of strawberries and cream, sweet honey on a beautiful spring day.

And it was a beautiful spring day.

Perhaps the last beautiful spring day you’d ever have, for the next spring, he was gone.

Beautiful spring days were few and far between. You’d learned that the hard way.

But today…you were inclined to think that it might be another one of those days.

Your boyfriend of two years had proposed on a beautiful spring day reminiscent of one long ago.

You supposed that this marked a series of firsts.

First date. First kiss. And now…a proposal.

You accept his proposal, tears in your eyes. He thinks that they’re tears of happiness, and in part, they are.

You don’t tell him that this was the one thing that you never thought you’d do. You feel like you’re betraying Keigo.

You have to remind yourself that he betrayed you first.

Half a year later, you have a wedding. It’s a small wedding, with only your families and close friends. You considered reaching out to Hawks’s hero agency, but decided to spare yourself the pain.

He’d moved on. So would you.

Unbeknownst to you, when the ceremony rolled around, Keigo was standing on a nearby rooftop, the wind blowing away his tears.

He couldn’t believe how beautiful you were.

He knew that he couldn’t have you, but didn’t you know that he was a sucker for pain? Watching you repeat the vows was like getting punched full-force in the gut, but the wind never returned to his lungs.

He felt empty inside. Something essential was missing, and he knew what it was, but he also knew that he couldn’t ever have it. Not if he wanted you to stay alive.

As the ceremony finished, he flew away into the sunset, and you caught a glimpse of his crimson wings, purely on accident. You shook your head in disbelief.

“Now I’m hallucinating too,” you muttered to yourself.

But no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself you imagined the whole thing, that final view made it so much harder for you to forget him.

Another year passed, and the seasons changed as they did. Spring flowing into summer, summer fading into autumn, autumn slowly drifting into winter.

Gradually, your new life engulfed you, the comfort of it all slowly draining away your doubts. Your husband was a good man. A faithful man. A caring man.

He held doors open for you and snuggled you on the couch. He played with your hair and made you breakfast in bed. He made it difficult for you not to love him.

You weren’t entirely sure you wanted to resist, anyways.

One night, you woke up in your shared bed, screaming in pain. Your lower back burned, almost as if you were getting branded.

Your husband woke up to the commotion. The bedsheets were stained with blood. Fresh, crimson, blood, all of it coming from you.

Whimpering, you laid limp as Masaki set you on your belly, trying to figure out the source of the injury. Taking a clean paper towel, he gingerly wiped the blood off of your raw skin, showing a tattoo emblazoned in gold ink.

Written in elegant cursive were three simple words.

Three words, but they hurt to look at.

(Y/N) …I’m sorry.

Your husband stared in shock. This didn’t happen. This couldn’t happen, could it? The only way someone got a tattoo like this was if their soulmate died, and, well…he was still very much alive.

He wasn’t your soulmate.

In this world, quirks weren’t the only strange thing.

Soulmates existed. But most never found out until it was too late.

When your soulmate died, their last words would be tattooed permanently on their other half’s skin in a bloody and painful process.

Their last moments would flash before the other’s eyes.

Nothing you could do. Nothing you could be sure of, until it was too late.

Fires blazed everywhere.

Building after building, it ate away at the crumbling city, tearing down everything in its path.

“Help!” A voice choked out, raspy from smoke intake. “There’s a beam—ugh—on my leg. I can’t get it off!”

A winged figure crouched on a burning rooftop, out of breath and utterly exhausted.

Backup wasn’t coming.

The whole city was burning.

Standing shakily, he sent the last of his feathers off to help the trapped woman.

“That’s it for me then, I suppose,” his smile wobbled slightly. “My work here is done.”

He couldn’t risk jumping off of the roof. His wings were stubs on his back, and only a single feather remained.

“That’s not enough for me to fly off, now is it?” He chuckled mirthlessly. “Oh, if only you could see me right now, (Y/N). You’d be proud. Saved more than 500 people today, you know that?” He sighed, sitting down on the roof. “Lost count somewhere around there. You were always proud of me, weren’t you? The only one that believed in me when I told myself I couldn’t fly.

You’re the one that taught me to fly, remember, chicken? Those were the good times.

Look at me now. Talking to myself. Don’t even have the strength to fly down anymore.” He coughed into his hand, blood staining his palm. He grasped tightly onto a keychain around his neck, smearing the metal with crimson.

“I never did thank you. Guess it’s too late now.” He stared up at the sky, hues of orange and gold dancing across the horizon.

“Never did treat you right.” He plucked his last feather off of his back, twirling it around in his fingers.

“You were always too good for me. Too good for anyone, really.” He laid down on the roof, back no longer sensitive to the burning heat.

“I lost the right to love you a long time ago. I’ve got no business crying over you.” He chuckled bitterly. “But is that going to stop me?”

Letting go of the keychain and his feather, his hands went limp.

“(Y/N),” he sighed, closing his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

The roof collapsed, the hungry flames licking at the bottom finally swallowing him whole. His comms fell out of his ear, the plastic melting in the heat.

A single red feather floated down to the ground, charred and blackened.

The only remains of his body they’ll ever find.

You were sobbing uncontrollably. Keigo.

He was your soulmate.

The boy you loved.

The one who’d abandoned you.

The one who you tried to forget.

He was your soulmate.

Your soulmate, who was dead.

“Turn…turn on the TV,” you whispered weakly. “Turn it on. I need to see.”

Masaki reached for the remote, flipping it on to the news channel.

“Earlier tonight, a bomb was detonated in Nagoya prefecture. Top heroes were on the scene, including Endeavor and Hawks, but their quirks are ill-suited to fight the conflagration. Endeavor has resorted to using brute strength to rescue people from the rubble, while Hawks hasn’t been seen since the beginning of the night. We are now reporting his status as MIA, and will continue to look for the Winged Hero, along with updating our reports on the status of missing civilians–”

You shut the TV off. You’d heard all you needed to.

Throwing on a mishmash of clothing, you sprinted out the door. Hailing a taxi, you hopped in before it had even screeched to a full stop.

“Hawks Hero Agency.” You told the driver, not bothering to mince your words. You hadn’t bothered to wipe all the blood off of your back either, so it was gradually staining your coat a deep crimson, a mocking parody of the way that Keigo’s feathers used to lay against his back.

His feathers that were burnt, charred, turned to ashes, no longer able to bring you the comfort they once had when they wrapped you in a warm embrace.

The driver looked concerned. “Miss, do you know what happened today? Hawks isn’t–”

“Yes, I know. Drive.”

You pressed your forehead against the window, breath steaming up the glass. It reminded you of one winter, when the two of you had been building snowmen, and your mother called you in for dinner.

“Kei, I have to go,” you tugged at his hand.

“Aww, (Y/N),” he kicked at an unfortunate stone with the scuffed toe of his boot. “Why can’t you stay a little longer? We haven’t finished his head yet.” He pouted.

“I can’t, Kei,” you tried to make him release his iron grip on your hand. “Mama’s gonna get mad.”

“Then I’ll make you stay!” He boldly declared, wrapping his little arms around your frame, tackling you to the snow-covered ground.

The two of you giggled, engaged in a tickle war, your mom’s voice fading into the distance.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N)!” Your mom yelled, marching over to where the two of you lay, tangled in a heap. “Do you want to get a cold?”

“No, Mama,” you said, slowly getting up and dusting the snow off of your parka. “I’m coming.” You turned around and poked your tongue out at your friend, letting your mom drag you back into your house.

Keigo sat in the snow for a while longer, not exactly excited to go back to his house.

Suddenly, an idea popped into his head.

He beat his little wings as fast as he could, half flying, half stumbling to your kitchen window.

Sneaking a peek inside, he saw you staring questioningly back at him. Not bothering to hide his mischievous grin, he puffed out a breath, steaming the window, took his little glove off, and started writing.

“D O Y O U W A N T T O F L Y W I T H M E ?” He painstakingly wrote out.

You shook your head, and his grin quickly dropped from his face. Looking down, he almost missed the words you mouthed out.

“I can’t read it!” You tried your best to sign. “It’s backwards!”

“Oh!” He tried his best to write the mirror image of what he had just written, making sure that you could read it from your point of view this time. You read his little message, a grin taking over your face.

“Y E S!” You mouthed. “YES, YES, YES!”

Quickly scarfing down your dinner, you waved a hasty goodbye to your mom, racing out the back door, only to get tackled into the snow.

“Come on, let’s go!” He took ahold of your hand. “Race you!”

“You can’t race me if you’re holding my hand!” You shrieked in delight. “Stop it!”

He paused, turning around. “Hmm. Well, maybe I don’t want to race you then,” he looked at you with a small smile on his face. “I wanna try something new!”

“Oh?” You asked, seeing the way his eyes lit up with delight. “What is it?”

“I wanna fly! With you!”

Giggling, he turned you around so that your back was facing him. He circled his arms below your armpits.

“Hang on!” He flapped his wings as fast as he could, kicking up a storm of snow around you. To his surprise, he actually managed to lift the two of you off the ground for around 3 feet or so. He wasn’t expecting it to work on his first try, but the two of you really were flying!

Sighing, you turned away from the window.

Happier times, you chuckled mirthlessly.

Isn’t it sad that I’m only remembering them now?

The car screeched to a stop at the front door to the Hawks Hero Agency.

You stepped into the lobby, the fluorescent lights blinding.

It’s the middle of the night, but they don’t seem to mind, you thought. Everyone was bustling around the place like it was normal.

The receptionist had changed since you’d last been here.

She spotted you and hurried over, most likely because of the blood staining your clothes.

“Miss, are you hurt?” She gave you a once-over. “Can I help you?”

You stared at her in shock for a moment. What were you here for again?

“Oh…uh,” you wrung your hands nervously. “I’m here for Hawks.”

Her expression of concern melted away into one of annoyance. “Another fangirl. This one appears to be married too,” she scoffed at the band adorning your left ring finger. “People these days…” she muttered underneath her breath, already hurrying back to her desk, where the phone rang incessantly.

“No. I’m not a fangirl.” You lifted your head. You might be in pain, but damned if you were going to let a stranger strip you of the remaining shreds of your dignity.

“I’m his soulmate.”

The way you said that phrase with such conviction made the lady pause.

“Soulmate?” She questioned. Girls had tried this trick on her before, but…when asked to prove themselves, they merely responded with “oh, it’s just a feeling,” or “I just know it.”

Never once had anyone said this phrase with such confidence.

“Yes.” You shut your eyes, defiantly holding back tears. “You have comms, right? What did he say before the comms died?”

The lady stared back at you, a pang of sorrow shooting its way into her heart. You weren’t joking around, were you?

“I…yes, yes we do. What’s your name, miss?”

You sucked in a deep breath. “(Y/N). (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

She stared at you for another moment, then quietly pulled out her comms.

“He said…” she choked a little. “He said, ‘(Y/N) …I’m sorry.’ We weren’t sure who he was talking about. We assumed it was a civilian he wasn’t able to save,” she pressed the back of her hand to her mouth. “Oh God…”

Quietly, she choked out another question. “Was it…was he talking about…you?”

You didn’t want to reply. You’d heard enough.

The lady didn’t try to stop you as you ran to the elevator, your fingertip pressing the “up” button so hard it bruised.

Quickly looking at the directory, you found his office.

“420.” You choked out a pained laugh. “He always did like messing around with people.”

Collapsing against the corner of the elevator, you wrapped your arms around your knees and lowered your head. You felt so goddamn tired.

Why did it have to be you?

Why couldn’t he break someone else’s heart?

Someone who was stronger?

Someone who could take this in stride and move on?

Why did the universe choose you?

The elevator bell dinged, rousing you from your thoughts. You stood up slowly, a trail of blood staining the place where you once sat.

Crimson, like the trail of feathers he’d (perhaps intentionally) shed during that game of hide and seek.

You buried your face into your hands.

Goddamnit, Keigo! Why does everything have to remind me of you?

You made your way into his office, most likely the messiest of all the top pro-hero offices. Paperwork was scattered everywhere, jackets strewn across the floor. You even saw a shoelace string laying on the carpet next to his desk.

It’s almost as if he’d always expected to come back.

Stepping cautiously over the objects that littered the ground, you came face-to-face with a cabinet next to his desk.

Snowglobes. So many snowglobes.

Snowglobes occupied every shelf of the cabinet, and the glass doors made it easy to examine the contents.

You squinted closely at them. They were all…different angles of the same scene, you realized.

The snow park above your houses.

He’d had snowglobes made.

They immortalized the place where the two of you played all day in the snow.

The place where he first learned how to fly, gliding off the hills like a paraglider.

The place where he’d picked you up and learned how to fly with another person’s life in his hands, hugging you close to his chest, reveling in your warmth.

In the spring, it was the place where he took you on your first picnic date.

The place where the two of you shared your first kiss.

The place where he left you his goodbye note, tucked away under the grounding weight of a boulder you used to lay on, basking in the sun’s warmth.

He’d had 12 snowglobes made. Your lucky number.

12 different angles that showcased the same scenery.

Suddenly, your legs wouldn’t carry your weight anymore. You leaned back into his chair, still smelling faintly of his scent.

How can someone’s scent not change over 13 years?

You closed your eyes, and quickly opened them again when you saw a pile of letters on the corner of the desk.

You weren’t sure why they caught your eye. They weren’t anything special, really. Plain white envelopes addressed in plain black print.

You took a closer look.

That was your name on the envelopes.

You leaned closer, quickly shuffling through them all.

Each and every single one of them was addressed to you.

Each and every single one of them was dated a year apart.

Each and every single one of them was marked for your various addresses over the years, his handwriting steadily improving.

You couldn’t resist your curiosity. Taking a paper cutter, you tore through the seal of the earliest envelope.

A single red feather, beautifully preserved, floated out.

You stared in shock. He…he didn’t forget.

He never forgot.

He just chose not to send it.

Hurriedly opening the remaining envelopes, you acquired more feathers, each fresher than the last.

By the end, you had a pile of 13 crimson feathers, right next to 13 shredded envelopes.

You looked around, confused. Why hadn’t he left a note? Any note?

Did he…did he never write letters?

You knew that you had sent him letters.

Maybe they did throw them out as spam.

Your curiosity piqued, you pulled open drawer after drawer, but none of them held anything of personal importance.

Finally, you came upon the bottom right drawer.

It was locked, you realized.

You carefully place the feathers back in their respective envelopes. Sealing them up once again, you carry them in a stack, making your way downstairs.

The agency workers saw you with the letters in your arms, not sure if they should stop you or not. When you looked to the receptionist and murmured a quiet “thank you”, they stood their ground. If she was okay with you walking away like this, then there shouldn’t be a reason that they wouldn’t be.

The taxi driver who took you here was still waiting outside. Seeing you arrive, he stomped out his cigarette butt and opened the backseat door for you.

“Rough night, miss?” He looked at your back, pity obvious in his expression. “Do you want me to take you to a hospital with that?”

You shook your head. “They can’t fix that. Do you remember the way we came?”

“Aye, yes I do,” he stepped into his own seat. “I’ll take you there right quick, miss. Don’t you worry.”

As you rode back home in silence, you couldn’t stop thinking about the cabinet in Keigo’s office.

The feathers, folded away safely in the envelopes you were holding.

If he never forgot, why did he never reach out?

The car door slamming shook you from your daze. “Miss, you’re back home.”

You stared at the man, realizing that you didn’t have your wallet on you.

“Do you mind waiting a second? I’ll go get my wallet now–”

He shook his head. “I know where that blood came from. See here?” He rolled up his sleeve.

“Got mine when I was 22,” a melancholy smile framed his face. “Rare, right? I never did find out who she was.

But the hospital staff helped me that day. Looked for deaths around my age, and then when I tried to pay ‘em, they refused. Said ‘twas only the right thing to do. Now I finally get to repay the favor. Don’t you go tryna pay me now. Won’t ‘ccept it.”

He leaned back against the hood of his car. When you opened your mouth to object, he merely saluted you, hopped back into the driver’s seat, and drove off into the night.

You turned to your house. The lights were still on inside, meaning your husband was still up. He probably couldn’t sleep, not after what had just happened. You couldn’t blame him.

Stepping inside, you heard muffled sobs coming from the kitchen.

“Masaki?” You leaned on the doorframe. He looked up at your voice.

“(Y/N)?” He rose from the table. “You’re…you’re okay,” he wrapped you in a hug.

You cleared your throat. “…yeah. Yeah, I’m okay,” you hugged him back.

I’m okay, you tried to convince yourself.

“Where did you go?” He looked at you curiously. Finally seeing the envelopes in your arms, he paused.

“Babe?” He asked softly. “Did you…did you know him?”

You buried your face into his chest. “Yeah…yeah, I did.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked softly.

“Not really…not now…” you replied.

He patted your back lightly. “That’s ok. I understand.”

The rest of the night went by in a blur. The letters were scattered on your nightstand, your husband helping you into the shower. He’s changed the bloody sheets already, but the stains on the mattress were stubborn and refused to come out.

Crimson stains, in the shape of wings.

Days later, some people from the agency stopped by your house.

“Is there a (Y/N) (Y/L/N) at this address?” The receptionist from your earlier encounter knocked on the door.

“Uh, hi. Yeah, that’s me,” you answered, not bothering to change out of your bathrobe. Your complexion had grown waxen, face shallow. Your hair formed an unkempt nest, spiraling around your face.

She gave you a smile, pity etched in her face. It disgusted you, really.

All anyone ever gave you nowadays was pity. Pity cards from your coworkers, although you weren’t sure how the information leaked out. Pitiful glances from your husband, who insisted on doing all the chores around the house.

Pity, pity, pity.

“What is it?” You asked her.

“We have some…documents for you.” She waved over two guys, each lugging a large crate of…paper?

“Wait…all that? For me?” You were confused. There was no way that that bottom drawer, even if all it contained were letters, had that much paper in it.

“Yes, (Y/L/N)-san. It’s all for you.” The men dropped off their crates at your door.

“What’s going on?”

“These were stored in the records house. Hawks filed them. They were all addressed to you, so we felt that this was the proper treatment.”

“We’ll leave you to go through these in your own time.” She started down the steps. Then, as if remembering something suddenly, she paused.

“You know…he was a good man,” she smiled gently. “We all knew he had a secret someone. We just didn’t know who they were. I’m glad he found you. Hero work is dangerous, especially for top heroes like him.

I hope that you find joy in those letters.” She turned back and finished her journey down the steps.

You turned around and looked at the crates.

Found me?

You smiled bitterly, a brittle coldness taking over your heart.

He never really did find me, did he?

Sighing, you sorted through the crates, looking for the ones that were dated the earliest. You carried the oldest set of letters into the bedroom and tore open the first envelope.

Hey, (Y/N). It’s me, Kei.

I hope you haven’t forgotten about me. I mean, I’m not an easy person to forget, I suppose, but it has been a while. Three years, to be exact.

Three years can do a lot to a person.

I should know.

How are you doing? I hope you managed to keep Timothy alive. You were always prone to overwatering him.

I’m not sure how long cacti live, but…if you nurture something, anything can happen, right?

I’m a hero now. I’m sure you know. My debut was broadcasted all over national television. They just can’t resist making themselves look good, can they?

At least now I’m allowed to write. I hope you understand why I haven’t written to you in so long.

I didn’t forget about you. How could I? Even though we were only 15, how could I forget someone like you?

I missed you. I don’t think you understand how much. It felt so empty, living without you by my side. Like…like I wasn’t ever warm enough, even bundled in the tightest blankets. I was always missing you.

Sounds like a curse, eh?

But don’t worry. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I just wanted you to know that.

Yours, Kei.

Ripping open letter after letter, you realized that you held his entire life story in your hands.

Hey chicken. It’s Kei again.

Realized I’ve been treating these letters as a kind of diary. I guess it’s…therapeutic? Even though I know I’ll never send these. I don’t want to put you in danger, you know?

Do you remember when we were kids?

We had all the time in the world to do whatever we wanted.

I miss that time.

Not as much as I miss you though.

I check in on you every so often, but I make sure you never see.

False hope is a dangerous thing. It shatters your soul into pieces, and when you try and piece them back together, it cuts your heart so badly you wish you’d never started.

But, you see, you’re like a drug for me.

I can’t seem to stop myself. No matter how bad it hurts, I…I still come back.

You wouldn’t know, of course.

I suppose there’s a reason it hurts when you stare into the sun.

I’m already broken, yeah? I don’t want you to break with me.

The thing is, I know you’d want to. I know we promised we’d always come back for each other. We promised we’d always be here for each other.

But some promises were meant to be broken.

You can’t be here for me, birdie. You’ll get hurt.

That would hurt me more than anything else, (Y/N).

So for my own safety, and yours…

This is the last time I’ll write to you.

I have to move on, or else those pieces of my soul?

They’re already in splinters, but if I keep going like this, they’ll be nothing more than powder, and I don’t think I could go on like that, yeah?

I love you, forever and always.

Kei.

Ha. Guess what.

What I said in the last letter?

A fucking lie.

I physically. Can’t stop.

The thought of not writing to you breaks me more than the thought of never being with you, and that’s a milestone I never thought I’d be able to pass.

So here I am again.

You’ve already heard my entire life story.

I wish I could be there to hear yours.

I saw you tonight, standing on your balcony. You know, the stars were so bright tonight. Reminded me of your eyes the first time I flew with you around the whole field, yeah?

Sparkling. You never stop sparkling, do you?

You know…do you ever wonder who your soulmate is?

I know that the world is cruel. I know that we don’t know exactly who our soulmates are until one of us dies.

But…do you ever think about it?

Who’s out there, just waiting for you?

Because I do.

And sometimes, when I’m at rock bottom, I’ll imagine that we’re soulmates.

I’ll create scenarios in my head. We’d be happily married. I’d spoon-feed you ice cream.

We’d play tickle wars with my feathers, have pillow fights, binge TV shows.

We’d watch horror movies, and you’d hide your face in my chest the whole time.

But…those scenarios always make me feel worse after I wake up. Because they’re not real.

And I…I so desperately want them to be real.

But you can’t always get what you wish for, yeah?

Going on a big mission soon. Undercover. Cool, right?

You’d be proud of me, I think, if you saw me.

I have to go now. But I’ll come back safe for you, yeah?

I know you won’t wait for me. I want you to wait for me, but…I know it’s not in your best interests. Probably not in mine either.

Sometimes I try and convince myself that it’s okay to be selfish. I want what I want, and you only live once, right?

But then I realize that you’re the one I’d be putting in danger.

And that’s when I realize you can’t ever stay with me.

It’s okay. I’ll watch from afar.

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop loving you.

Yours,

Kei.

You put the letter down and rummaged through the second crate, desperately trying to find the last letter that he wrote.

Hey birdie. Long time no see. Ha.

13 years and I still can’t forget about you. Doesn’t seem normal, does it?

I’m convinced that we’re soulmates, but then again, I may have convinced myself. You know…I used to hate the idea of soulmates. Sharing your life with another person, seen as incomplete without them?

Sharing my soul?

Bunch of crap, right? I like making my own decisions. Wasn’t ever much of a rule-stickler. But…you know…I’m starting to warm up to that idea.

But only with you.

And that’s why I’m convinced that we are, in fact, soulmates.

You don’t know how my heart breaks every time I see you. Manual is a good guy. I know he’s treating you well.

That’s the only reason I’m letting you stay married to him, really. If it was anyone else, I would’ve busted their ass.

But…you deserve someone like him. Someone who can give you their all.

Someone who, if you date them…they won’t lead you into danger.

Soulmates are a finicky concept, yeah?

So…I guess we’ll never know ‘till one of us dies.

Yours,

Kei.

Epilogue

Rainy winter days were the saddest days of the year.

Especially today.

Strolling through the park, you held a black umbrella in one hand and clutched a glass case tightly in the other.

You stopped in front of a marble headstone.

“Hey there,” your voice cracked.

“Miss me?”

A whistling wind, scattering powdered snow and frozen rain across the landscape, was your only answer.

“Kei, I–” You collapsed onto your knees, uncaring of whether or not the cold would seep in. It couldn’t get colder than your soul now, anyways.

“I…I didn’t go to your funeral.” Tears rolled down your cheeks, leaving a silvery sheen in their wake. “There were too many people and I…I couldn’t handle it.”

“But…Kei…” You choked out an ugly sob. “Why didn’t you send me the fucking letters?”

“I don’t care how dangerous your work was. You can’t get anywhere without taking risks in life, Kei!” You screamed at the marble façade, willing it to crumble.

“You can’t–”

“You can’t make my decisions for me!”

“I should be the one who gets to choose who I love!”

Your screams attracted the attention of several bystanders, who quickly averted their eyes and walked away when they saw your distraught state.

“You shouldn’t have tried to choose for me!”

“And now–”

“You’re dead, Kei! What am I supposed to do now?” Your tears pooled on the frozen ground, marking little dents in the snow.

You slammed your fists into the ground, the glass case in your hand cracking.

Another ugly sob made its way out.

“Kei–” you whimpered.

The glass shattered, splintering into thousands of tiny pieces, each fragment glittering like diamonds.

Slivers found their way into your palm.

Crimson blood, the color of the worn-out feather freed from its enclosure, splattered the snow-white ground.

“Kei,” you whispered, carefully placing the feather on top of the chiseled marble.

“Wherever you are, I hope you’re happy.”

Masterlist

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kawaii-kozume · 4 years

Text

One Day the Only Butterflies Left(Will Be in Your Chest)

Rated T+. Very heavy themes discussed. Solangelo. 3066 Words.

On the verge of no return, why'd you keep fucking it up?

Don't wanna have to bury you, but nothing seems to get through your skull.

It started after the repairs were finished. Or was it after Apollo showed up? Or maybe it started when Meg disappeared. Or when he found out about Jason. Or maybe, Will thought, it started back before he even first talked to Nico.

It was easy to wave off, especially after Nico told him what he did. What a night that was, sitting on the hard, marbled floor of the Hades cabin, holding the other boy tightly as he sobbed through story after story about his involvement in the wars. Will tried, he really, really tried. Every new realization struck him like one of his dad’s poison arrows and he eventually had to ask Nico to stop. Then they sat in silence until the sun rose.

So yes, Nico di Angelo, the love of Will’s life, was mentally fucked up and Will couldn’t do anything to fix it. He’d done as much as he could. He made Dionysus aware, he provided physical comfort, he let Nico cry on him as often as he needed, he listened to Nico’s mad ravings in the middle of the night when Tartarus’ claws were so deep in his mind. With all of that going on though, Will missed it. He missed the signs and he let the emotions fester and the toxicity bubble up around them.

That’s how he found himself staring at Nico, thinking gross thoughts about walking away from the brunette with the bleeding arms. He glances at the hand hovering around the wounds and bites back an angry huff.

“What happened?” He asks. Stupid, warm your voice.

“The-the-the- sac, the poison, Bob’s gonna burn, I gotta-” Nico brings the hovering hand to his arm again, curling his fingers to scratch the reddened skin. Will softly grabs the hand, preventing it from doing further damage.

“Shh, love, it’s okay, Bob’s going to be fine,” Will didn’t know exactly what Bob was, but it apparently mattered much to his broken lover. “It’s okay now.”

Nico’s eyes were darting around, searching for something, but his eyes were glossy as if he weren’t actually seeing his surroundings.

“No, I gotta get to the door.” He mutters, trying to wrench his arm away. A heavy lump formed in Will’s throat, blocking the little saliva he had left in his mouth. He holds Nico’s hand steady.

“Neeks, baby, if I go get Mr. D, I need to know you won’t hurt yourself.” Will knew if he walked Nico to the Big House, Nico would be upset when he came to. It was just before lunch, the majority of the camp was already at the dining pavilion and the stragglers were sure to be heading there now. Nico doesn’t respond.

“Nico, please. I don’t want to hurt you further.”

“ Percy, please be there. ” Something in Will snaps. It was like a twig in the woods under the foot of a mouse. It was fragile to begin with and even though the final bout of pressure was so small, it broke him. He can’t keep doing this. He’s only seventeen, he’s lived through two wars and lost so much already. Will stood there for what felt like hours, staring at the boy he loved with every fiber of his being, unsure how to move forward.

“ I’m so sorry, Neeks.” Will covers the claw marks, now layered with dried blood, and pushes Nico out the door of his cabin. Will was right; people stare as he pushes Nico forward to the one person who could stabilize his crumbling mind. He couldn’t find it in himself to care. Mr. D was already opening the door when he hauls Nico onto the porch.

With a quiet “I can’t stay.” Will leaves Nico in the director’s care and he walks off, away from the pavilion. He has no real location in mind, but something brings him back to the dark cabin on one of the corners of the unit. Will comes face to face with a heavy door and an even heavier feeling in his chest. He pushes the door open and shuffles inside. A year and a couple months of memory lives in this space and Will wants to forget each and every one. He can’t remember when he starts crying, but he moves through the cabin, pulling small items of his to take back to his own.

I hate to say "I told you so," but look how the bruises show

Tell me, how is it gonna feel without my arms wrapped around, wrapped around you?

The light is low and Nico is exhausted. He tilts his head to see the dying embers of a fire in a familiar fireplace. He’s in the Big House, alone. He sits up slowly, trying to remember how he got here. He vaguely remembers his cabin, blood, and Will. But Will’s memory isn’t warm like it usually is. It feels tragic and empty, almost like how Nico feels.

“Good morning.” A deep voice says and the sound of shuffling moves in. Nico looks up at Mr. D, afraid to ask his status. Luckily, he doesn’t have to.

“You had another episode. This one seemed much worse than the previous.” Mr. D gives him a sharp look now. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you avoiding me, too.”

Nico flinches at that. He knows he’d been but he didn’t think he needed to continue to check in. He’d been doing okay. Mostly nightmares, less waking blackouts. He moves his arm and hisses as bandages press against a wound.

“You clawed yourself up real nicely. It was kind of Sunless to bring you here.” Mr. D says and Nico’s stomach drops to his feet. Will was there.

“Can he come in?” Nico asks. Mr. D looks at him, curious.

“He’s not here at the moment. He didn’t answer where he was going but he dropped you off and walked away.” He speaks softly, as if Nico were a newborn deer and any sudden noise would send him skittering out into traffic.

“Oh.”

Mr. D sets a mug in front of him and stands.

“Drink. You’ll feel better.” Then he leaves. Nico’s not so sure what happens next because he forces himself to check out. It’s better not to feel than to feel bad things, after all.

You were dead to the world, now I'm dead to you

Haunting your own house, nothing to lose

It’s been three days since the last incident and things return to normal. Or so Nico thinks. Will knows he thinks so because he’s back to holding Will when they nap. Nico tries to engage Will in light bickering and Will tries his best to accommodate it. Will knows one thing though: whatever snapped in him that day hasn’t repaired itself. He finds himself not caring about what Nico has to say at breakfast in favor of asking himself Am I gonna find him broken today?

Nico notices him staring and nudges him with his shoulder.

“What?” He’s got a small smile on his lips, the same pink tinted lips Will adores, and a playful look buried in his eyes that only Will would know to look for. For a moment, Will can almost see who Nico once was.

“You’re playful today.” And apparently that was the wrong thing to say because after Nico’s responding hum, a shadow flits over his eyes and he goes quiet, staring at the bowl of oatmeal in front of him. Will’s chest tightens as he waits for an outburst. He almost cries when it doesn’t come.

“The world must have turned upside-down. I’m playful and you’re glowering.” The sadness in the smile Nico gives Will would be imperceptible to anyone watching, but Will sees it. He’ll always see it.

Past the point of rescuing, why'd I keep pushing my luck?

The hole I wore into your soul has got too big to overlook

“When I lose it completely, will you leave?” Even though it’s a question Will has asked himself many times over, he still finds himself unsure how to answer when Nico asks. They’re sitting in the basement room of the Big House on the concrete floor. Nico is sitting in between Will’s legs, pressed against his chest and clutching Will’s t-shirt like it’s the only lifeline he has. Who knows, in the next moment it could be.

Nico had another episode that morning, this time resulting in a child of Hebe getting cornered by skeletal military men. He was already in the basement after Will showed up to the Big House from the infirmary. The little girl had cried and asked Will many things he couldn’t answer. Did he mean it? Am I a pawn? Why does he hate me? Will he do it again? Will placated the girl before tending to his boyfriend’s fragile state as more ice grew around his heart.

“Do you want the honest truth?” Will sighs, bringing a hand up to push Nico’s hair behind his ear. He strokes Nico’s cheek with his thumb as Nico makes a noise of affirmation.

“I don’t know.” Will inhales. “I’d like to think so. Fuck, I’d like to think you’re never going to lose it completely. That you’ll keep up with your appointments with Mr. D. I’d like to think that you’ll overcome this.”

Something’s making a wet patch on Will’s shirt and causing Nico to shake in his arms. Will’s fighting tears himself, knowing that Nico needs to hear this.

“But I know you. And I know that you’d rather keep your problems to yourself because someone once told you that you aren’t worth the trouble. I know that you tend to sabotage yourself so you’ll never be happy, just in case it gets taken away.”

Nico’s sobs are muffled by Will’s chest but it doesn’t make each one hurt less.

“I can’t guarantee it, but damn it, Nico, I’ll be here until I can’t take it anymore. Can I ask something though?” And Will waits until Nico calms down enough to look at him.

“Can you please, no matter what, get to your meetings with Mr. D? Just because I’ll push myself through this, doesn’t mean that I want to.” Will feels the tears fall down his face and sees it on Nico’s. Nico doesn’t speak but he nods.

That night, Nico lashes out at him and tries to hurt him. Will tells himself it’ll be okay because that’s all he can do.

I thought we had a future, but we ain't got a chance in hell

It starts looking up and Will thinks more and more that Nico can do this. He sees Nico slip into the Big House regularly and sees him start to sit with Dionysus at meals. He sees Nico make real progress. He has less breakdowns and Will starts smiling again.

Will knew it was too good to last.

The sun is setting on our love, I fear

Letting our loneliness out into the atmosphere

Will startles out of sleep as he feels a weight settle on his chest. His eyes open and he’s looking into dark, glossy eyes above him. He takes in the blade pressed against his throat and bites back a whimper.

“Nico.” He whispers. Nico’s crying and he wants to reach out and wipe the tears away.

“Nico.” He says softly. The blade presses into him. He quiets down. He assesses the situation. Judging by the position of the moonlight, he guesses it’s about four in the morning. Nico’s holding his left arm down with his hand and his right arm is pinned under Nico’s knee.

“Where is he?” Nico hisses. Will looks back to his love’s crazed look.

“Who?” Will whispers. Nico scoffs.

“Damasen. I know you know where his lair is. I need to get there and I will kill anything I need to.” Nico spits out. Will thinks about how to handle this. If he answers, Nico may just kill him, no longer needing the information he thinks he needs. If he doesn’t comply, Nico could kill him anyways. There was only one plan Will could figure out.

“I can take you there. It’s really hard for a mortal to try to get to.” Will says slowly. He watches Nico process the answer and prays to any deity listening.

“Fine, but one wrong move and I swear…” Nico whispers. He climbs off Will and Will slowly sits up. He’s only in a t-shirt and boxers but damn it all if he bends over to find pants. He stands with his hands raised and walks out the Hades cabin door. Nico follows him, still in his illusion. Will glances up and sees he’s right. It’s just after four in the morning. He leads Nico to the Big House and stops at the base of the porch.

“This is him, just knock on the door.” Will says. Nico eyes him like he doesn’t trust him and continues to watch him as he walks up the stairs and knocks on the door. Will knows he should feel something seeing his love glare at him like he’s trash. But in all honesty, Will feels nothing. The door opens. Will doesn’t have the time to explain and Nico drops his sword.

“Nico.” Is all Dionysus says as Nico curls in on himself. Will doesn’t bend down next to him. He only walks up the porch and explain to Mr. D what happened. He feels Nico’s pleading eyes on him as he talks and he has nothing in his mind to say.

“I didn’t .” Nico whispers, horrified at himself. Will just looks at him blankly. “Holy shit, Will, I’m- There’s nothing I can say to make this better. I’m so sorry.”

Dionysus brings them both inside and sits them in front of the fireplace, Nico’s Stygian sword sitting in the attic for now. He’s left them to make tea. It’s silent between the two lovers and Will knows the growing ravine between them is too large.

“Have you been going?” Will asks quietly. Nico doesn’t answer. Will looks up at him, making sure he hadn’t gone into another episode, but Nico’s staring at his shaking hands.

“I tried.”

“How long?” Will’s tired. He’s so exhausted running in these circles.

“Two weeks.”

“Two weeks.” Will repeats. “Nico, I can’t do this.”

“Will, please, if it’s about tonight, we’ll stop sleeping together.”

“It’s not just tonight. It’s not even about me being in danger. It’s about how every time I see you in the mornings, I ask if today’s going to have another episode. It’s about me being in the infirmary, wondering if any of the campers that come in are going to be from you. It’s about the many times you’ve told me you’ll stop hurting yourself and making yourself fail but then you turn around and do it again. It’s about knowing that the longer I stay around, the more I’ll lose myself. It’s about looking at you and seeing you not even being on the plane of existence. It’s about not putting myself through torture because I love you, Nico. I love you so fucking much and I’m losing myself trying to save you. I’ve lost so much weight, it’s considered unhealthy. I’m jumpy when we’re together because I’m waiting for it. I’m not sleeping, I’m not even really living anymore. We’ve both become ghosts, Nico. And I’m sure you’re trying your hardest, I don’t doubt that. But it’s not enough and I’m not enough to fix it.” Will’s crying, no he’s sobbing. His breathing is ragged and he’s swallowing against the lump in his throat waiting for Nico to respond with something.

“You’re right.” Nico finally looks up at him and Will, for as long as he lives, will never forget the look on his face. “You’re absolutely right. I’m broken and I’m not doing what I should about it and we’re too young to handle this. I’m sorry it came to this. I’m sorry we’re not enough. I’m sorry that we moved too fast.”

“So, what now?”

“For one, we break up.”

Will inhales sharply. He knows that’s what needs to be done. He knows that’s what’s the most healthy and what’s most likely to salvage their friendship. But it still cuts through him like a hot knife.

“We break up.”

“And I’ll move into the Big House. I’ll work more closely to Mr. D. And if I get through it, maybe one day, we’ll be able to be friends again.”

“That sounds like a great idea.” Will says. The ice that had been wrapping its way around his heart for the last five months hadn’t gone away and with Nico’s last words, it shattered inside of him.

“The sun is setting on our love, but I will always keep you with me, Will Solace. I’ll always love you.” Nico stands up and leans down, pressing one final kiss to Will’s lips and then leaves for the basement room.

“I can keep you updated on his progress, if you’d like.” Mr. D stands in the doorway to the kitchen. Will stands up and shakes his head.

“He’ll either be better or he won’t. And he’ll tell me when he is.” With those last words, Will leaves the Big House, his chest both heavier and lighter than it had been in the last year and a half. That morning, he breaks. He sobs into his pillow, on his sister’s shoulder and all throughout breakfast that he didn’t attend. He makes a final trip to the Hades cabin and collects the last item he has there. The one item he didn’t take back because he still had hope. He picks up the tiny Apollo mythomagic statue and instead of taking it to his cabin, he takes it to the Hephaestus cabin. He asks Harley if he could make it a small, flat metal token and after it’s pressed down, he punches a hole in it and laces it on his necklace of beads. One last reminder of the boy who loved him and lost his mind.

The tide is turning on our chance to turn it 'round

I never thought I'd see my fingernails fall out

Love isn't in the air, love isn't in the air

#solangelo #pjo #sam writes #written listening to the bring me the horizon song by the same name

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mythologyfolklore · 4 years

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Ares and Athena through the years - Ch.19

Chapter Nineteen: Homecoming party

Ares never would have dreamed, that his family would be so happy to see him, that they would throw such a huge party to celebrate his homecoming.

And never would he have dreamed, that he would be so happy to be here with all of his stuck-up relatives, that he would be glad to have them and their oh-so-civilised lifestyle again.

But here he was, among his loved ones after mortal centuries of being so far away.

He was in the arms of his little sisters and brother, surrounded by the sound of his half-siblings' laughter, their music and singing, the sweet and etheric scents of home, the sight of his smiling parents, the beauty of home.

And Aphrodite, his beloved Aphrodite, his life, heart and soul, tamer of his wrath, soother of his inner demons, mother of his dear divine children, and he was holding her in his arms, kissing her, smelling her tantalising scent, looking into her pink eyes, feeling her joyful tears seep through his chiton and thought that, right there and right now, he was the happiest god in the world and oh, how he loved her so!

Of course he had missed them all, but he hadn't known just how much, until now.

The happiness was so overwhelming that he almost started bawling in front of everyone. But his pride kept him from doing so, he had a reputation to uphold after all.

Instead he announced, that he had something to say.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked over to listen.

“I'll make it short”, he spoke. “When I left here, I was really eager to leave and glad to get away from y'all, because in the years before you'd been even more dickish than usual.”

There were a few agitated murmurs here and there and Hera glared at him. Ah, his mother dearest hadn't changed at all).

Ares ignored it and continued: “But you're my family and at the end of the day I love you all more than I hate you sometimes. Bein' away for a few months to cool off is one thing, but after spendin' several centuries away from Olympos, it's really a whole different experience to come home again. It was fun to travel the world, but still, it's good to be back. Guess there really is no place like home. Bottom line is, I missed you all. I'll soon be back to my usual business again, but for now I just wanna be happy to be home and that you're receivin' me so well. Never thought I'd see the day when you're all happy to see me – yeah, even you, Daddy's Owl! Don't think I didn't notice!”, he added playfully and everyone laughed.

Athena huffed and looked away.

Ares laughed, but decided not to tease her further for now.

“That's it!”, he closed his speech and threw his arms up. “Time to let the party commence!”

These words were met with cheers.

It really was the party of millennia, just like Dionysos had promised.

Everyone had fun, there was laughter, the food and drinks were even better than Ares remembered, he was the centre of attention in a positive way and he savoured it all, because today he could pretend that he wasn't one of the most unpopular deities in the pantheon.

Just for this night, they seemed like a normal rich family.

He was laughing, smiling and dancing with Aphrodite, Artemis and his mother, joking with Dionysos and Hermes and playfully bickering with Apollon and Hephaistos.

However, after he had danced with Aphrodite for the third time, he noticed that one goddess was sitting in a corner, moping and looking down.

“'Scuse me, love”, he told the love goddess and danced his way through the crowd to where Athena was sitting.

Athena groaned in frustration, when Ares came over and sat next to her.

“Oi, Daddy's Owl! What's with that's face? C'mon, I know you're not into this, but this is still a party! And you're sulkin' in a corner?”

She glared at him. “Well, maybe I want to sulk! Leave me be and go dance with Aphrodite or Artemis!”

“Aphrodite is dancin' with Dionysos”, Ares replied and pointed to where the goddess of love was dancing with the god of drag queens so wildly, that the other dancers kept a save distance.

“And Artemis with Hermes.” There was the huntress merrily dancing with the messenger.

“And I'm not gonna dance with my little brother, that's gay.”

“Hephaistos is paraplegic”, Athena pointed out.

Ares grinned: “So? That's never stopped Aglaia. Oh look, Dite's dancin' with him now!”

Indeed she was, pushing his wheelchair along to the rhythm, while Hephaistos was laughing and holding on to the arm rests.

“As you see, Daddy's Owl-”

“Stop calling me that!”

“Nah. As you see, everyone's hitched, so you're not gonna get rid of me for now.”

She groaned: “Oh for the love of Khaos, Ares! What part of 'leave me be' do you not understand?!”

Ares only rolled his eyes. “Come on, don't be like that! I just saw you being all depressed and stuff and I want to know what the matter is. Just tell me and I'll leave you alone! Now spill it, because hanging out with you isn't any less dull than it was forty Olympian years ago!”

“I see, you're still a tactless prick.”

“Owl, I haven't changed for many thousand years, so why would I now?”

Athena sighed: “Well, as humans say, hope dies last.”

“Cute. Still not going away.”

“If I tell you, will you really leave me alone?”

“Cross my heart.”

The war goddess rolled her eyes. “Alright, fine. I'm angry at myself. That incident with the Roman gods … I can't believe this happened! How could I have made a diplomatic blunder like that! Our pantheon got into trouble, because of my careless assumption that the Romans are like us and think the same way we do. I didn't even bother to fact check that assumption and with that I endangered us all. This is unforgivable. And the one to resolve the issue was you! You, of all the people! How? How did you, the god of terrible war and bloodshed, ace this situation and appease those foreigners, while I, the goddess of wisdom and good counsel made this fatal mistake?! How?!”

Ares smiled lopsidedly. “Well, what can I say? I can be really diplomatic if I wanna be. Remember what I told y'all forty Olympian years ago, during the Sack of Troy? Since I'm Dad's only legitimate son, that makes me the crown prince. And as such, I bear high responsibilities. I've been doin' his correspondence, ever since I grew to age. Dad would take me to international meetings to meet gods from other places, so I'd get to know them, learn how they roll – ya know, the works. I had to grow into it too, but I've had ten thousands of years to figure it all out. I just have that much practise. How long have you been doin' my paper work?”

Athena scratched the back of her neck. “Since shortly after you left. I offered father to help him with the paper work in exchange for a favour and he was all too happy to oblige.”

Ares chuckled: “Yeah, reckon he was. Bet he has forgotten just how much of his paper stuff I actually do, when I'm not bein' the black sheep of the family an' makin' mortals killin' each other for sports. Did he think you could handle it without so much as a briefing? I mean, don't get me wrong-”

“We both thought so”, Athena admitted quietly.

The older god shook his head. “Yeah, suspected as much. Sorry, Owl, but ya overestimated yerself there. Complaints an' revenge prayers of mortals an' minor gods to Zeus are easy to get rid of. International affairs are a whole different matter. As I told the Roman gods earlier, you're so introverted, ya don't talk to foreigners enough. If ya don't get out and meet people, you'll remain completely clueless about the rest of the world. These people don't think like we do. Trust me, no one knows that better than I. Happens more than often, that I make mistakes when I interact with foreigners people for the first time. I mean, you've read my letters from abroad. Cultural misunderstandings, losses in translation and what not.”

She didn't answer.

She was too busy grappling with the humiliation of getting a lecture on diplomacy from Ares of all gods.

The war god pat her shoulder in sympathy. “Hey now. Don't beat yourself up over it. Shit happens. Besides, how could you predict that the Romans would be offended over such a stupid little thing? It's as I told them, there was no way you could've known. Just give those duties back to me, now that I'm back. And maybe spend your free time hanging out with others more. Make some new friends, especially abroad. You always liked to learn new stuff, didn't ya? Trust me, it'll do ya a world of good. An' you know what? Let's forget, that I just gave you a talk on communication with outsiders too. We'll never speak of it again. Promise.”

Athena gave him a suspicious look. But his expression was genuine and so she nodded.

“Yes, for that I would be quite thankful indeed.”

Ares laughed: “Awesome! Hey, how about a dance?”

She stared at him. “I don't dance, Ares. Also, you promised you would leave me alone, after talking to you about my problem.”

The war god shrugged. “Guess I did. Still a shame though. Dancing is one of those things you gotta try out at least once. Oh well, suit yourself.”

Within a moment's notice he was back on the dance floor and dancing with his sister Hebe.

Athena stayed in her corner, albeit with her mood significantly improved.

#Greek Mythology #ares #athena #aphrodite #dionysos #hera #artemis #hermes #apollon #hephaistos #hebe

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olympivnshq · 5 years

Text

congratulations daisy ! your dedication to HEBE was truly inspiring, it made L & i feel like plebeians and sit up and pay some serious attention, because who are we and what kind of life choices are we making ?? we can’t wait to see what else you do with juliet and how she flourishes as hebe with your first faceclaim choice: ZOEY DEUTCH.

☆ﾟ*・ﾟ OOC INFO.

Daisy, PST, lover of baking and Starbucks

☆ﾟ*・ﾟ DEITY — GENDER. AGE RANGE.

HEBE, goddess of youth - FEMALE. 20-25

☆ﾟ*・ﾟ MORTAL NAME. JOB/OCCUPATION. BOROUGH/NEIGHBORHOOD.

Juliet Young. Make-Up Artist and Waitress. Chelsea, Manhattan

☆ﾟ*・ﾟ AESTHETICS.

mortal form: oversized sweatshirts, different earrings each day, dancing with or without music, “just for fun”, laughter at everything, heart-shaped lollipops, pink make-up brushes, commitment issues, decisions made by impulse, social media addict, one drink too many, lipstick stains on cheeks, crushes that last only a moment, a deep love for life, spots every dog within a 5 mile radius

goddess: forever young, smiles and sunshine, innocent on the outside, knowing her importance, the diligent daughter, always too perfect, ambrosia and nectar, golden goblets, delicate jewels, youthful beauty, patron of young brides, married to a legend (and a legend herself), a secret desire for mortality, the taste of honey, pink eyeshadow and flushed cheeks

“In her grandest form, she was covered in gold, iridescent jewels flowing. In her greatest form, she was barefoot in white cotton, the river-drenched skirts and grass stains her only adornment.”

☆ﾟ*・ PLAYLIST.

i. And I remember all my childhood dreams; I find it hard to get them out of my mind ii. Been 21 since 17, thanks to all the magazines; sometimes I just wanna scream and break my screen iii. When the sky was gold, and I needed no protection; when I was young, whatever happened it would do me no wrong iv. An urge to kiss you and let this secret pleasure out; this youthful slender, hallucinate my woes away

☆ﾟ*・ HOW WOULD YOU PLAY THEM?

Juliet Sinclair has experienced little tragedy in her mortal memories. She was carefully placed within a middle class family, given loving parents and a talented twin sister. They lived comfortable in Long Island for all of her “life”. They were happy - or so the pictures imply. She smiled alongside these people, these strangers who were not strangers at all, and she looked happy. Whatever vengeful beast cast aside the gods, they had shown her mercy with this naive life and innocent memories. Young and beautiful and unbothered - her luck was likely better than the rest. Juliet walks around the city with child-like trust, just as Hebe once walked the roads of Olympus. The connections established in these feeble memories had given her a clear path - one she had not questioned over the course of the past year. She is a waitress (once a cupbearer, always a cupbearer, it seems) at a hip Greek-fusion restaurant, and on her days off she is a fairly successful makeup artist, serving various socialites and the occasional C- or D-list celebrity. Her specialty is covering up wrinkles in order to give her client’s a “youthful glow”, or so her reputation says.

For whatever she has accomplished, Juliet is a severely naive girl. Life is perfect, life is beautiful - “Just smile and everything will work out!” She does not remember the trials of a goddess, but rather the innocence of mortal youth. Those doe-eyes exude hope, something many of her siblings had abandoned long ago. Rather than dwell on the difficult or even notice the bad, she lets a goofy grin spread on her lips as if she’s happy to simply be alive.

Her only trouble comes with something that plagues her entire “generation” - social media has consumed her, even in her memories. Perfect, pretty, poised. Juliet’s account is for business (she says), since many of her clients visit her page for samples of her work and even to judge Juliet herself. Each post is perfectly curated, each caption expertly written; she tracks the likes and despairs over a lost follower. She insists that it’s part of her business, but of course there’s more to it - both the problem and asset of youth is being seen. And she is seen, she’s made sure of it. But they don’t really know her, how could they? She doesn’t even know herself.

answer these questions: 1. are they more likely to stand with the pantheon or against it? Juliet has never considered breaking apart from the gods; she was their dutiful cupbearer (when she was Hebe, that is) and she did as she was told. But her desire to be mortal, her curiosity of what it is to live and die as a human, may create a fissure in her alliance. She would never lift a sword against her brothers and sister of Olympus - she has no reason to. Her life among the gods was idyllic. She was useful, needed; she was - is - an asset to their immortality. Juliet’s only concern is in her curiosity. Perhaps she would rather stay amongst the mortals than return to the mountain; perhaps she would like to grow up. What a shock it would be to see a wrinkle on her brow, with only skillful make-up as a solution and not simply a snap of her fingers to reserve the age.

2. what is their stand on mortals? Curious. That is the best word to describe her strange fascination with them. How can they be so comfortable with aging? Some fight against it, this is true - they cover their skin with liquid to blur their wrinkles, they use computers to enhance their features (or create new ones). Others accept the role of nature. They grow from child to adult and know that one day they will die. Hebe has never considered a death from age, not when she was able to so easily reverse it. She has always wondered what it was like to walk amongst them, to exist in their presence and in their world. The truth is, her youth might be better served in the ground than in the sky.

☆ﾟ*・ SAMPLE PARA (OPTIONAL)

A lollipop sat between delicate pink lips as Juliet tried to balance a plastic cup of iced coffee, a bulky makeup case, and a tablet (whose screen had already been shattered from a similar situation) in overflowing arms. The items were tipping over, precariously threatening to crash to the floor and embarrass her in the decadent lobby. Her savior came in the form of a stranger, a man she had never met but she was sure she had known intimately in another life. Those eyes - blue, so blue. She would never forget them, yet she also did not remember. He appeared out of nowhere, catching her case and her dripping coffee all in one fell swoop. “Ah, my hero,” she teased, although a smile of gratitude crossed her mouth. And as he replied, his voice deep and strong, that tugging familiarity only grew stronger. Her brow knit as she watched him, as if the longer she looked, the likelihood of her remembering would increase. “Do I know you?” The question appeared to shock him as well - perhaps he was thinking the same thing. “Maybe we knew each other in another life,” he shrugged, and Juliet couldn’t tell if he was serious. That was the answer she accepted, though, and with bright eyes she enticed him into helped her up to her client’s floor. ( She had a feeling he would have trouble saying no to her, as if he couldn’t in their “past life” either. ) “What should I call you, then?” It was a simple question. She was looking for a name, something like James or Charlie or Adam. But when he replied, “Well, if I’m your hero, maybe you should just call me Hercules,” her entire body froze. She had no idea why there was ice in her veins, why her heart was trying to escape her chest to reach him. Ignore it, don’t let it bother you - it’s probably nothing. Just a crush that will fade as soon as he leaves your sight. As she entered the apartment, leaving him behind with a polite thank you, the woman she was faced with was equally familiar. There were rumors about her, as there always are in New York’s high society - they said she was promiscuous, that she had a different lover each night. That the woman was more obsessed with the idea of love than actually loving anyone. Juliet preferred to give everyone the benefit of the doubt, but the feeling of familiarity tugged on her insistently. As she painted the woman’s plump lips red, she remembered watching them sip from a golden goblet; as she ran her brush along the woman’s nose, she remembered peering at its delicate slope from the corner of her eye as they sat side by side. How? How would she know these people without knowing them? And as she left she called her sister, someone she knew to be real and consistent and sensible. “I feel so weird,” she admitted, “like I forgot an entire part of my life. That’s so stupid, right?”

☆ﾟ*・ ANYTHING ELSE?

I went way overboard with pinterest.

#ohq:accepted #lsrpg #literate rp #zoey deutch #mature rp #hebe

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codevassie · 5 years

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hi! a'ight first off i just wanna say your ASFoS fic is quite possibly the dopest shit i've ever read. like. i saved some of the songs from that playlist and i stiLL get emotional when they come up on shuffle so yeaH amazing work!!!

CV: Omg thank you SO MUCH!!! I can’t tell you enough how happy it made me to see this! ASFoS is my baby. That playlist too! I’m curious which songs you liked.Alright, on to the one-shot. I hope you like it! I didn’t know how much I wanted to write this au until I got this request?? Now I have sooo many headcanons. So thank you and enjoy!

Note: Sorry if I got anything to the PJO universe incorrect. I can’t remember every single detail of the books and, I must say, that is one of my greatest downfalls as a human being. I will be working on my other request shortly, but requests are still open, so stop by!Btw, this takes place during Sea of Monsters.

“One,” Keith murmured to himself as he plucked at a strawberry, dropping it into the basket at his feet. “Two, three, four,” he continued counting.

The wind swept past, rustling his bangs across his sweaty forehead. The sun beat down, the weather adjusted for camper comfort, but not the physical labor of hours in the strawberry fields.

“Five… six…” Two more thumps into the basket, filling fuller with the ruby red fruit, delicious where they shined in the bright sunlight. “Seven…”

Keith paused, hand carefully extended to number eight. His fingertips brushed its smooth surface, but he retracted it before it plucked.

He righted himself from his bent posture, directing his line of sight across the field where numerous others were hard at work. The satyrs played their music. The Demeter and Dionysus kids wiggled their fingers, making the vines dance. There were some other kids who had gotten roped into the task too, but mostly it was just them. Satyrs. Demeter and Dionysus kids. And that one kid who hadn’t been claimed yet.

For eight years.

It really had been that long now, hadn’t it? Keith had stumbled his way into camp eight years ago, dirty, scared, orphaned, and only seven years old. Somehow, he had found his way there, in a place he was supposed to belong. Finally.

Except, not even at Camp Half Blood had Keith really belonged. He’d been stuck in the cabin of rejects, of extras, of forgottens. And, whoever his godly parent out there was, they hadn’t cared to get him out.

Hadn’t bothered to send just the tiniest sign. For eight years.

Suddenly, Keith didn’t feel like working in the field anymore. That eighth strawberry could pluck itself.

So he gathered his basket and walked to one of the others, handing it over before making his way out of the fields. He was tired from his work, and nothing sounded better than a bed right now - a bed which had taken years to earn since he wasn’t even an official part of the Hermes cabin and all - but he wouldn’t be going back to the cabin just yet. If there was anything guaranteed about the chaos of the Hermes cabin, it was that there would always be people in it, always a crowd, and Keith didn’t feel like dealing with a crowd right now.

Instead, he went to the arena where only a couple of people had decided to spend their afternoon. Since the border had been poisoned, the weather had become increasingly hotter and its magic was unable to regulate it. Most people were inside, with the air conditioning.

So Keith found himself a corner of the arena and started to hack away at one of the dummies. He was already sweating from his work in the fields and the scorching weather, but he decided he didn’t care much as long as he got to swing his sword, stretch his muscles, and ignore the world.

He didn’t want to think of it all. The border. The monster attacks. That Percy kid off on another quest to save them all. Luke…

“Aren’t you sick of it? How many years has it been now and your mom won’t claim you?”

Eight years…

He swallowed down the sick feeling that rose in his throat, putting extra effort into slashing the dummy. It split, half of it falling to the ground. Shit, now he’d have to replace that.

Keith threw his sword into the dirt, leaving it to stick up like Excalibur in the stone, while he went to drag away the useless dummy. He tried to forget Luke’s voice. He tried to forget how tempting it had been to follow. He’d trusted Luke. He’d looked up to the guy - was even kind of close to him, considering no one survived in the Hermes cabin without having known its cabin leader. He had been a great cabin leader.

But it hadn’t been a shock, really. Keith regretted that - that he had almost seen it coming. Luke had always been so bitter towards their parents. There had always been something off about the way he brushed it off, like he had to force himself to calm down.

It was something achingly familiar, this grudge that Luke held onto. Like a life raft. This resentment towards their parents Keith understood completely. He didn’t think a war was necessary for it, but he understood.

Despite this, a lot of people were wary of him now. More and more unclaimed were disappearing from camp to join Luke. Why would Keith not? Eight years was a long time to wait, after all…

And maybe Keith might have. If not for Shiro.

Shiro was the closest thing Keith had to a brother. Once upon a time, it had made him consider the chances of being a child of Hebe. He’d gotten rid of that idea almost immediately. Children of Hebe were way too good to be anything like him. Not that he had much to go off of. Shiro was the only claimed child of Hebe at camp at the moment, and, even though he was stuck in with all the unclaimed and Hermes kids, he never seemed resentful. He always paid attention too. He helped kids get settled in when they arrived, made sure they had plenty of people they could go to, even kept an eye on them after they’d been claimed and moved cabins. It was just in his nature to care - something Keith couldn’t understand how he did for all the brain cells he put into the notion.

But it had really helped him throughout the years. Shiro had always been there for him, since he’d first arrived three years ago. After so long of being alone, it was nice to have someone like Shiro.

Dragging the dummy out of the way, Keith thought about going to find Shiro. Maybe they could spar together. Or go to the dining pavilion - it was close to lunch anyway. Just then, though, a voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Oh, hi, Keith,” Lotor said, walking up to him with purpose, tailed by the two girls who were always following him around. “Here all alone? I suppose it makes sense an unclaimed doesn’t have any friends.”

“Piss off, Lotor,” Keith spat, pulling out a dummy and carrying it over to one of the empty mounts.

“I guess it makes sense that you have no friends at camp. I heard they’re all with Luke. Only a matter of time until you follow, I suppose,” Lotor said, sighing like he really believed in that inevitable. Keith felt his blood boil.

“I’m not turning on camp,” he said, turning to Lotor suddenly. “And, for your information, I have friends here too.”

“Oh, yes, whatever,” Lotor said, waving his words away like particularly annoying flies. “Anyway, we were going to spar, but we seem to be uneven here. Care to join?”

Keith knew that was a bad idea. Everyone knew that was a bad idea. You see, Lotor was a kid of Tyche, the goddess of luck, and a pretty powerful one at that. Going against Lotor was stupid, dumb; he’d lose for sure.

Which is exactly why he couldn’t back down each time. Lotor had won too many times, and Keith was determined to bring him down. It wasn’t fair, especially when Lotor won on nothing but his own unnatural luck. Keith was brought down time after time from a misplaced foot or the awkward angle of his sword. The fights were never on skill, and that frustrated Keith to Hades.

When he accepted Lotor’s offer this time, he ended up on the ground not two seconds into the spar. But, hot-blooded as Keith was, he kept going back. And back. And back. Any time Lotor challenged him, Keith was there to take up the offer, as many times as he continued to lose.

Keith was good, but luck, luck was better. Luck had never been on Keith’s side.

“Again, Kogane?” Lotor asked from above, but Keith was already exhausted. The adrenaline from Lotor’s initial challenge was already wearing off, especially after he had already been sparring all day, even long before Lance had arrived.

But Keith had never been known to do things for his own good. He rose to his feet, readied his sword. “Again.”

He was taken down time and time again, none of it by skill, all by happenstance. Stupid things. A foot in the wrong place. A wrong sword angle.

It wasn’t long until Ezor and Zethrid were laughing their butts off. Lotor chuckled too as he watched Keith rise once again, wiping sweat from his forehead. “If this is what Luke is looking to recruit, camp should win without problem.”

Keith was exhausted. He knew, logically, he wouldn’t win anything like this, but he couldn’t leave it at this. Lotor would get what was coming to him and Keith would be the one to deliver it. Eventually, his luck had to run out.

“I bet you’re staying at camp to do the recruiting for him,” Lotor laughed. “How pathetic that he would choose someone who has gone years without being claimed.”

Keith brandished his sword before him. Lotor rolled his eyes, but he put his sword up again too.

“I’m not working for Luke,” Keith gritted out through clenched teeth. His voice shook. He knew he was letting Lotor get to him.

Shaking the emotions away, Keith readied himself to lunge again when a voice interrupted them. A familiar voice. A voice Keith did not want to hear right now.

“What’s going on here?” Lance asked, stalking up to them, flanked by two other kids. Keith recognized them. It would have been strange not to, as long as he’d lived at camp. It was Hunk and Pidge, a child of Hephaestus and a wood nymph. Keith wondered what they were doing there.

“Keith, why are you always doing this?” Pidge asked, stalking forward to look up at him with this look in their eyes. He knew exactly what they were referring to. What they all saw, and what they all knew of his record with Lotor.

“Sparring,” he grunted simply, trying to stand tall despite the exhaustion dragging down his limbs. He crossed his arms, trying to appear put together. Pidge, of course, saw straight through him. And so did everyone around.

“Don’t spar with him,” Pidge said, practically growling on the last word as they glared at Lotor. Lotor just looked on, amused and innocent. At this, though, he spoke up.

“Keith here seems just fine sparring with me,” he said, shrugging a shoulder and smirking. “And I’d really like to continue, if you three don’t mind.”

They both turned toward Keith, Lotor with a challenge in his eye that set a fire in him that wanted to lash out, Pidge with a disapproving look. “Keith,” they said in warning.

Keith had never really listened to them when it came to stuff like this. He didn’t even listen to Shiro half the time when it came to Lotor. He turned back toward Lotor, lifting his sword. “Pidge, give us space.”

“Nope! Nope nope, nuh-uh,” Lance suddenly cut in, making Keith look his way. He was walking forward, coming to stand next to Pidge. “You, my friend, are exhausted. Don’t be an idiot.”

“Seriously? You’re calling me an idiot and expecting me to listen to you?” Keith asked, putting down his sword yet again to turn toward him.

“Yep,” Lance said, self-assured. “And you’re going to.”

“And why is that?” Keith couldn’t help but ask.

Suddenly, Lance seemed to get serious. He leaned forward, talking in a low voice and holding Keith’s eyes to his like glue. “Because, if you keep sparring Lotor like this, you’re never going to win. You’re probably the only one at this camp who can do it, but if you go in blindly like this, he’s never going to get what he deserves. And that’s to eat dirt at the tip of your sword.”

Keith paused, letting the words going through his mind, felt them tug on him, felt them tug him toward Lance, to put down the sword. Lance was right. Keith wanted Lotor to get what he deserved so bad, but Lance was right. That wouldn’t happen today. That wouldn’t happen when he didn’t have the strength to do it, or the level head to execute it.

So he clutched at his sword, then sheathed it. He turned toward Lotor. “Another day.”

And, with that, he followed the three out of the arena.

-/-

Lance, Pidge, and Hunk invited him to the mess hall for lunch, but Keith turned them down. Instead, he went to the showers, then back to the Hermes cabin, deciding to call it a day.

“Long day?” another camper asked as she walked by. Keith merely grunted in affirmation and Romelle giggled. She was a new comer there, yet she had already been claimed. Daughter of Iris. Apparently, since Iris was a messenger goddess, Romelle had inherited some strange ability to project thoughts into others’ minds.

Feel better, she whispered into his mind, and he pushed back a Thank you that he hoped she got.

“I’m heading to Athena cabin,” she called as she left, and Keith could hear the excitement in her voice. That was another thing. As the daughter of the goddess of rainbows, she also claimed to it was her god(dess) given right to be as hopelessly gay for cabin six resident Allura as possible.

“Good luck,” Keith called, but she was already gone. He chuckled, then dropped his head back into his pillow. He stayed like that for a while, listening as voices carried in and out of the cabin. No one paid him any mind and no one disturbed him. Eventually, he was able to drift off, sleeping away much of the hot and sticky day as he could in the tolerably okay temperatures of the busiest cabin.

When he awoke, it was with regret. Mid-day naps were never a good idea. He felt groggy, somehow more tired than when he’d gone to sleep, but, as he tried to roll over and drift again, his body kick-started, letting him know that he would not be getting any more sleep any time soon. Great, he pissed his body off.

So, with a groan, he sat up, rubbing at his eyes. When he looked around, he noticed that the cabin was darker, but still relatively empty. Beams of orange sunlight streamed in at odd angles, signalling a sunset over the Big House and time for dinner. Keith wasn’t sure if he was really hungry, but, then again, he’d only had breakfast that day and Shiro would surely come looking for him if he skipped two meals.

He huffed before swinging his legs over the bed, getting ready to stand before he saw another inhabitant of the cabin. Lance, laying in is bunk across the room, book propper up on his pillow where he had been reading on his stomach, was staring over at him. Keith’s wasn’t sure if it was the sunset or what, but his cheeks looked particularly dark.

“Lance?” he asked, causing the boy in question to jump.

“Keith!” he exclaimed, cheeks going even darker. “You’re up!”

“Yeah…” he replied, then stretched a bit, arms overhead. Lance made an odd sound. “Are you not going to dinner?”

Sounding rather strangled, Lance replied, “No, no. I am.”

“Okay…” Keith said, finally catching up to the awkwardness of the situation. He paused. “Well, we should get there?”

“What?” Lance squeaked. “Like, together?”

Keith frowned. “Um, I guess?” Why was Lance being so weird. “Why are you being so weird?” he decided to ask. Lance blinked, then shook his head, sitting up from his position. He cleared his throat.

“Weird? No, not weird. You’re weird,” he accused, jumping down from the bed. “Let’s go get food.”

Keith, confused but amused, chuckled and shook his head. “Alright,” he said as he followed after.

Much of the walk there was spent in silence, and Keith watched the sunset, watched the blue of the Big House and the lonely porch swing out front. He looked up into the pavilion, seeing the commotion of kids getting food, scraping into the offering, talking and laughing and crowding into the Hermes table. But Keith’s thoughts wandered back down to the arena, looking at the desolate area and thinking about earlier in the day.

“Thanks for earlier,” Keith said, startling Lance.

“Huh?” Lance asked, brows furrowing in a cute way. Keith shook the thought from his head, refusing to get stuck on that bullshit again.

“When I was sparring Lotor. I shouldn’t have taken it so far.”

“Oh,” Lance said, then shrugged. “No problem. I know how you get.”

“Do you?” Keith asked, genuinely curious. He hadn’t been aware that anyone paid attention to him. Shiro kept tabs on him. Pidge would beat up anyone who messed with him. Lotor did so only to the extent that he could piss him off. But Lance?

“Well, you’re always fighting Lotor, even though no one has beat him. He’s just got way too much luck for it to be worth it. But you think it’s worth it.”

“It’ll be worth it when he understands he can’t always win,” Keith huffed, frustrated and tired all at once. It was always an uphill battle when it came to Lotor. Or, maybe not even uphill. He was on a cliff and Keith couldn’t scale it. There was never any progress.

“But you always go at it when you’re not ready,” Lance pointed out, and Keith’s attention snapped to him. He frowned, ready to protest, but Lance continued. “Your emotions get everywhere, then you tire yourself out, then you won’t think straight. You’re way too impulsive.”

“That doesn’t matter. One of these days, I’ll beat him.”

“Not like that, you won’t,” Lance shook his head. “Hermes kids are like a Jack of All Trades, you know? So I know what it’s like to spread myself between different things. I’m not great at anything, but I can be alright at a couple.”

“You’re selling yourself short,” Keith said without thinking of it, then went red at the compliment. Lance looked at him a bit incredulously and Keith cleared his throat, determined now that he had said it, to explain. “I mean, you’re good at a lot of things, and it’s not just ‘alright’. Being a Hermes kid means you have the capacity to understand a whole lot, and you do.”

“Oh,” Lance said, and Keith turned towards him. His eyes were wide and staring at him, the tips of his ears red in the setting sun. He averted his gaze almost immediately, but Keith’s heart was already thumping wildly in his chest. There was the smallest of smiles on Lance’s lips as he determinedly stared down at his scuffed up tennis shoes, and it made a smile of his own appear on Keith’s face. “Thanks,” Lance said.

“It’s the truth,” Keith replied simply, turning to look back ahead of them again. They were quickly approaching the mess hall.

“Yeah, well, so, it’s like that,” Lance said, clearing his throat and tapping his fingers to his thigh, looking all around, probably to avoid Keith’s gaze. “Beating Lotor isn’t going to rely on just one of your skills. You have to pay attention to a lot more than that. You have to use your head as well as your instincts to figure it out.”

For a moment, Keith was silent. He watched the pavilion where he could see Shiro at the offering fire talking to Pidge’s brother, eyes soft as Shiro laughed at something Matt said. Lotor’s words filled his head again, the accusations he knows everyone must be thinking.

Shiro was the only one who had known just how close Keith had come at one point to actually following Luke out of there. One night, he had exploded with the frustration of it all and Shiro had been the one to calm him down. He’d told Keith not to cling to resentment, to use his head instead of running head first in with anger. It made sense then and it made sense now.

And, surprisingly, coming from Lance, it calmed him down easier than Shiro’s own go at it had. When Lance said it, it sounded like a plan, it sounded like something, not only logical, but attainable.

“I’ll think about that,” Keith said with a nod. Then, they stepped into the pavilion and were swept up in the hassle of kids all around and the delicious smells of dinner.

“And, Keith?” Lance asked. Keith turned to look at him, surrounded by excited kids and sloshing drinks and the smell of sweet burning. Lance scratched his head, looking sheepish, when he said, “About what Lotor was saying to you…”

“About what?” Keith asked, but he had a bad feeling that he knew what. He swallowed, unable to tear his gaze from Lance’s. His worry must have shown on his face because Lance’s gaze softened.

“I know that you aren’t with Luke, and so do a lot of people here. You’ve been at camp for too long to actually think that we could believe that. Too many here have your back for that. You know that, right?”

Keith felt frozen on the outside, but his insides were alive and a squirming hot mess. Suddenly, there was a lump in his throat and he had to look away in order to swallow it down, nodding his head.

“Yeah,” he said as evenly as he could. “Thanks, Lance.”

“No problem, man.”

-/-

“Keith,” Lotor greeted, walking into the arena and making an immediate detour his way. Keith, who had just been sharpening his sword before practice, turned to him with a scowl, clutching the whetstone tighter. He rubbed the pommel of his sword with a thumb, back and forth.

“What do you want, Lotor?” he asked, already on guard. Lotor didn’t have his lackies today, though, and the arena was considerably full of campers, all training for the day. Lotor wouldn’t try to pull anything.

“Our fight was interrupted the other day. Since we both seem to be in for practice, why don’t we give it another go?” Lotor smiled cruelly down at him, flicking a tiny lock of white hair that had fallen into his face away.

“So, you want someone to beat down for the day?” Keith translated, unable to really care about his pride at the moment, especially when a shocked look crossed Lotor’s face. This guy really needed someone who could counteract his powers if he ever wanted to become a better swordsman. Keith would prove that luck couldn’t always win one day, and then Lotor won’t have a single way to get better for those instances.

“I suppose I will have to go easy on you, then?” Lotor asked, rolling his eyes, but Keith shook his head.

“I won’t need it,” he huffed, feeling frustration bubble up inside him. Then, he remembered Lance’s words.

“You’re way too impulsive.”

Impulsive indeed. Keith paused, collecting his thoughts, letting his emotions settle down. He took the time to consider… was fighting Lotor right now a good idea?

He wasn’t tired from practice. And he had sorted out his emotions. His frustration was a dull murmur in his head, but, overall, he could think clearly. If there was ever a time, Keith decided it was now.

So he walked out into the open space, turning to face Lotor, who had done the same. People around the arena seemed to have taken notice and were hushing and gathering, interested to see how another Keith vs Lotor match would go. There were no exchanges of hands in the audience. They all obviously thought they knew how it would go.

And it probably would. Keith had lost to Lotor enough times to realize that, and could think clearly enough to know that he still wanted to try. He would never give up on trying to teach Lotor this lesson: that he couldn’t always win. Since he wouldn’t give up, he might as well learn from the fight.

So he raised his sword, defensive before him and stance low. Lotor tied back his hair, then mirrored the stance. Keith could hear murmurs in the crowd. He breathed one more deep in and out. He was ready as he’d ever be.

Then, he lunged.

Their swords clanged in a metallic ring, screeched as they broke apart, and repeated its reverberations over and over as they each attempted to disarm the other, and put each other in check-mate. He let his body carry him through on instinct, but maintained a clear head, watching to make sure his feet landed correctly, and his blade didn’t skid horribly. He was on the look-out for blatant uses of Tyche’s luck, but it was hard to divide his attention between his opponent and everything else.

One moment, his foot stepped to the side, far from where he’d meant, and he knew what was at play. Lotor’s sword came down to trip him, but Keith moved at the very last second, breathing heavily as the toll of the fight dragged on his limbs. Lotor was fluid and natural, but even he looked to be feeling the effects.

It showed most especially in the increasing number of Keith’s simple screw-ups, things that would have rarely happened had he not been against such strong luck. Somehow, though, he barely dodged each one.

“You have to use your head as well as your instincts to figure it out,” Lance’s voice in his head reminded him.

Balance. It was something Lotor lacked. There was no balance between his wins and losses. There was no balance between his goods and bads. Luck spun everything around Lotor, and he avoided the natural order of the world with it. Keith had lacked balance too, relying on his instinct and frustration to carry him through his battles. Not anymore.

Keith’s sword skidded at an odd angle along Lotor’s blade, heading straight for the dirt below them, and, after that, Keith would be unforgivably open for take-down. He could feel the power behind the move, the golden luck winding its way around Lotor’s blade, blessing it, and its repercussions, its own way of balancing the world, pushing all the bad luck onto Keith’s blade. Every action has an equal and opposite reaction.

But this action and reaction were twisting the natural order, pushing things around that weren’t meant to happen. And Keith felt his need to right it.

Then, he pushed that need into the power he felt around him, burning away the luck and bad luck and leaving only the way of the world. He felt it all cancel out, his blade swinging with his weight so that, instead of falling into the dirt, it spun around with his body and fell back on the other side of Lotor’s blade. Lotor, for a moment, looked shell-shocked, before he snarled and bat away the blade.

They were back into the throng of it, metal clangs, the audience’s cheers, sweat in their eyes. Keith could feel the luck working around him, working against him, but he could also feel something else. He could feel it canceling with each of his moves. He could feel the luck withering away.

And Lotor could too. His swings became harder, his spurts of luck more and more desperate. They were both tiring, but, somehow, in some way, Lotor’s luck was running out.

Then, in a display of great irony, Lotor’s foot misstepped. Keith reached forward with his own, hooking around the ankle and pulling. Lotor fell right to the ground, wincing as his head hit the dirt. Keith kicked the sword from his hand, then hovered over his pliant body, surprise on his usually impassive face. He pointed his sword at Lotor’s jugular and called for his concession.

Swallowing, Lotor looked around, then down at the blade at his throat. He must have known Keith wouldn’t hurt him, but the sight seemed to scare him all the same. He’d rarely been in this position in his life, now had he? And the sudden appearance of it must have opened up some sort of crisis in his brain.

“I concede,” Lotor said, his voice shaking, then Keith lowered his sword and offered a hand up.

Surprisingly enough, Lotor accepted, though, once standing on his feet, he fled immediately, not looking back. Keith didn’t have time to dwell on that, though, because, almost immediately afterward, he felt someone tackle into his side.

“Oh my gods, Keith! You did it!” Lance practically shouted in his ear. Keith was stunned, momentarily, by the sudden closeness, and it must have shown on his face because, when Lance looked at him, their faces mere centimeters apart, he stopped short, eyes widening and sucking in a breath. Lance backed away very quickly. “Sorry.”

But Keith just laughed. “That’s alright.”

That was when he heard the crowd around him, all cheering and rushing in with congratulations. Pidge and Hunk were there too, whooping and hollering, and Keith felt a smile grow on his face.

Then, everything stopped. The crowd shushed around him, and they all ceased approaching, suddenly looking wide-eyed. Some were excited, some looked confused others pointed somewhere overhead.

Keith glanced toward Lance, but he was frozen too, looking somewhere above.

Keith looked too.

“Oh,” he breathed, the glowing sigil a dull pulsing glow in the midafternoon sun. Around him, campers started to kneel, as was custom. He watched as they all lowered themselves, like a great wave. Hunk and Pidge knelt, the nymph, sending him a thumbs up when they saw his gaze. He saw, towards the back of the crowd, Shiro approach and kneel, holding a fist to his chest as he watched on in pride. Keith saw so many of his friends from the Hermes’ cabin there, including Romelle, and Allura next to her too.

And he saw Lance, at the front and still closest to him, kneel with a reassuring smile and a nod of his head. Chiron wasn’t present, so Lance seemed to take it upon himself to do the honors.

“All Hail,” he said, voice strong and carrying over the throngs of people, “Keith Kogane, son of Nemesis.”

#requests #klance #vld #voltron #chb au

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snghwmylv · 7 years

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A Little Happiness

Genre ; Angst

Word Count ; 515

Summary ; Why was it that only when he left that you realised how much he meant to you? Based off of the lyrics of 'A Little Happniess' by Hebe Tien

A/N ; Our Times is like one of my favvv movies, so I just hAD TO make a scenario from the song which is 👌 Check out the song & movie if you haven't !!

I watch as water droplets fall one by one onto the window. Leaning against the windowsill, I wrapped my blanket against my shivering frame. The rain was getting heavier, and so did my regrets. I observed the couples walking by, how the guy would try his best to cover his girlfriend using his jacket, not wanting her to get wet from the rain.

Wonho used to do that for me , I thought.

I laughed bitterly at the thought of him. It has been over 5 months since we had broken up, and I still could not stop thinking about him.

A few days after our breakup was when I realised that he was the happiness I wanted, to stay, above all.

Back then when I fell in love with you, I still didn’t understand those feelings

He first confessed to me during our High School graduation. I was confused, since barely anyone talked to me, or even cared about me.

I stood there, dumbfounded. Wonho stared at my confused look, “So it’s a no?” He asked disappointedly.

I didn’t want to reject him, because he did geniunely seem like a nice person, it was just, I needed time to get to know him better.

And when I did, I fell for him. Hard

He was the first to say that he loved me, but I found it hard to understand what I felt towards him. So I didn’t end up saying it.

Only after we parted did I feel that you were unforgettable.

Because of that, we fought often, and blurted things out that we didn’t mean.

“You know, if we were to break up, I could easily forget you in a matter of minutes!” I shouted but immediately regretted when I saw the tears that had built up in his eyes.

“Then forget me,” he said, walking out of my life. Forever.

A week passed after that day and I was on the brink of death. I had barely eaten, slept, or even did anything for that matter.

It was because everything that I looked at, or did, reminded me of him.

Oh how wrong I was.

But I have already lost my rights to shed tears for you.

I was still close to his six other friends, and they would tell me everything that was going on in his and their lives. Once, they told me that he was having a meltdown, after not getting into his first choice of university.

As much as I wanted to go and comfort him, I couldn’t.

You opened up your wings, and met your destiny.

I was walking down the street that was near to his home, and saw him holding hands with another girl. My heart broke seeing how happy he was without me.

She was everything that I wasn’t. Pretty, skinny, fair-skinned. No wonder he chose her over me.

Jooheon told me that Wonho was head over heels for his new girlfriend, and said that he had waited his entire life to meet someone like her.

I sighed,

She would be so fortunate.

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dc-md-va-cultus · 7 years

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Hellenic Polytheism Local Cultus Challenge 1

As this is a local cultus blog, I thought it would be interesting to have some challenges for my fellow Hellenic Polytheists! And even if you aren’t, these challenges can be used to jump start any local cultus practice.

Here’s how it’s going to work;

I publish ancient texts, bold important things related to local cultus, and based on those, I present challenges related to the texts. There will be several, so you get to choose! The challenge can either be you go out and work on your local cultus OR if you already have an answer, reblog this and let us know!

Without further ado, let’s begin.

HESIOD’S THEOGONY

From the Heliconian Muses let us begin to sing, who hold the great and holy mount of Helicon, and dance on soft feet about the deep-blue spring and the altar of the almighty son of Cronos, and, when they have washed their tender bodies in Permessus or in the Horse's Spring or Olmeius, make their fair, lovely dances upon highest Helicon and move with vigorous feet. Thence they arise and go abroad by night, veiled in thick mist, and utter their song with lovely voice, praising Zeus the aegis- holder and queenly Hera of Argos who walks on golden sandals and the daughter of Zeus the aegis-holder bright-eyed Athene, and Phoebus Apollo, and Artemis who delights in arrows, and Poseidon the earth-holder who shakes the earth, and reverend Themis and quick-glancing (1) Aphrodite, and Hebe with the crown of gold, and fair Dione, Leto, Iapetus, and Cronos the crafty counsellor, Eos and great Helius and bright Selene, Earth too, and great Oceanus, and dark Night, and the holy race of all the other deathless ones that are for ever. And one day they taught Hesiod glorious song while he was shepherding his lambs under holy Helicon, and this word first the goddesses said to me -- the Muses of Olympus, daughters of Zeus who holds the aegis:

Shepherds of the wilderness, wretched things of shame, mere bellies, we know how to speak many false things as though they were true; but we know, when we will, to utter true things.'

So said the ready-voiced daughters of great Zeus, and they plucked and gave me a rod, a shoot of sturdy** laurel**, a marvellous thing, and breathed into me a divine voice to celebrate things that shall be and things there were aforetime; and they bade me sing of the race of the blessed gods that are eternally, but ever to sing of themselves both first and last. But why all this about oak or stone?

Come thou, let us begin with the Muses who gladden the great spirit of their father Zeus in Olympus with their songs, telling of things that are and that shall be and that were aforetime with consenting voice. Unwearying flows the sweet sound from their lips, and the house of their father Zeus the loud-thunderer is glad at the lily-like voice of the goddesses as it spread abroad, and the peaks of snowy Olympus resound, and the homes of the immortals. And they uttering their immortal voice, celebrate in song first of all the reverend race of the gods from the beginning, those whom Earth and wide Heaven begot, and the gods sprung of these, givers of good things. Then, next, the goddesses sing of Zeus, the father of gods and men, as they begin and end their strain, how much he is the most excellent among the gods and supreme in power. And again, they chant the race of men and strong giants, and gladden the heart of Zeus within Olympus, -- the Olympian Muses, daughters of Zeus the aegis-holder.

Them in Pieria did Mnemosyne (Memory), who reigns over the hills of Eleuther, bear of union with the father, the son of Cronos, a forgetting of ills and a rest from sorrow. For nine nights did wise Zeus lie with her, entering her holy bed remote from the immortals. And when a year was passed and the seasons came round as the months waned, and many days were accomplished, she bare nine daughters, all of one mind, whose hearts are set upon song and their spirit free from care, a little way from the topmost peak of snowy Olympus. There are their bright dancing-places and beautiful homes, and beside them the Graces and Himerus (Desire) live in delight. And they, uttering through their lips a lovely voice, sing the laws of all and the goodly ways of the immortals, uttering their lovely voice. Then went they to Olympus, delighting in their sweet voice, with heavenly song, and the dark earth resounded about them as they chanted, and a lovely sound rose up beneath their feet as they went to their father. And he was reigning in heaven, himself holding the lightning and glowing thunderbolt, when he had overcome by might his father Cronos; and he distributed fairly to the immortals their portions and declared their privileges.

These things, then, the Muses sang who dwell on Olympus, nine daughters begotten by great Zeus, Cleio and Euterpe, Thaleia, Melpomene and Terpsichore, and Erato and Polyhymnia and Urania and Calliope (3), who is the chiefest of them all, for she attends on worshipful princes: whomsoever of heaven-nourished princes the daughters of great Zeus honour, and behold him at his birth, they pour sweet dew upon his tongue, and from his lips flow gracious words. All the people look towards him while he settles causes with true judgements: and he, speaking surely, would soon make wise end even of a great quarrel; for therefore are there princes wise in heart, because when the people are being misguided in their assembly, they set right the matter again with ease, persuading them with gentle words. And when he passes through a gathering, they greet him as a god with gentle reverence, and he is conspicuous amongst the assembled: such is the holy gift of the Muses to men. For it is through the Muses and far-shooting Apollo that there are singers and harpers upon the earth; but princes are of Zeus, and happy is he whom the Muses love: sweet flows speech from his mouth. For though a man have sorrow and grief in his newly-troubled soul and live in dread because his heart is distressed, yet, when a singer, the servant of the Muses, chants the glorious deeds of men of old and the blessed gods who inhabit Olympus, at once he forgets his heaviness and remembers not his sorrows at all; but the gifts of the goddesses soon turn him away from these.

Hail, children of Zeus! Grant lovely song and celebrate the holy race of the deathless gods who are for ever, those that were born of Earth and starry Heaven and gloomy Night and them that briny Sea did rear. Tell how at the first gods and earth came to be, and rivers, and the boundless sea with its raging swell, and the gleaming stars, and the wide heaven above, and the gods who were born of them, givers of good things, and how they divided their wealth, and how they shared their honours amongst them, and also how at the first they took many-folded Olympus. These things declare to me from the beginning, ye Muses who dwell in the house of Olympus, and tell me which of them first came to be

CHALLENGE TIME

1)Mount Helicon

According to Wikipedia, springs sacred to the Muses were located on this mountain and the place was attributed to sacred poetic inspiration.

This also attributes the place to the Muses.

The mountain itself is

1,749 meters/

5,738 ft high in altitude, and is situated between bodies of water.

QUESTION: What places do you attribute to the Muses? What places do you often associate with inspiration?

CHALLENGE: Find somewhere you associate with the Muses, or even one of them. It doesn’t have to be a mountain or spring! Where do you feel their presence?

2) Laurel

_Laurus nobilis _is native to the Mediterranean, and is commonly used in food, medicine and aromatherapy. And it is pretty wide spread in Greek mythology, most notably in the myth of Daphne and Apollo, where Daphne is turned into a laurel tree.

QUESTION: Is laurel native to your area? If not, what other plant do you associate with the gods? OR how important is it to you to use native plants?

CHALLENGE: Find a plant native to your area that is sacred to you and your practice.

3) Mount Olympus

The home of the gods is actually a real mountain, the tallest mountain in Greece actually. Its highest point has an altitude of 2,918 meters/9,573 ft.

QUESTION: What is the highest altitude in your area? Do you think the gods have a one set “home” or are they more spread out?

CHALLENGE: If you can, try and scope out the highest altitude in your area (you don’t have to hike it or get on it if it is unsafe, not open to the public, if there are health concerns or any other reason). If that doesn’t interest you, identify where you feel the most in touch with the gods.

#hellenic polytheism #local cultus #paganism #the muses*#mousai*

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lovehebe330 · 7 years

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Scenario 1: Aaron and Hebe reveal their relationship [FICTION]

Author's Note: This scenario/oneshot is not affiliated with ANY of the characters. This is just a work of fanfiction writing.

After Hebe's IF PLUS tour ended, she walked down from the platform and saw that Aaron was waiting for her backstage. "Eh? What is it?" "What? I can't come to see my wife?" he said to her and hugged her, "You've done it today, and 63dB? Haha, how do you know what that sounds like?" "I love you" she kissed him on his cheeks, ignoring his comment about her onstage talking sections. "What do you want to eat tonight?" he asked her and stroked her hair. He took her to the changing room. "Hmm, drink tonight?" she smirked. "So you did see my flowers, not until the last day. Hang in there" he laughed. She let out a cute laugh, "Fine then, we can eat at home"

What did you all just read here? Yep, Aaron and Hebe are actually married for the past 6 years and the previous year before that, they dated. To Aaron, Hebe was the best person to ever come into his life. He definitely didn't mind keeping the relationship a secret. All the lies he had told the public was worth it. Initially, Hebe wanted to tell the world in 2013 that she was married to Aaron but after his career hit its peak, she backed away. " Aaron" Hebe called her husband into the kitchen. "Yes?" he said after coming home from filming. He was tired and sweaty. She sat down beside him on the couch and kissed him first. He looked at her and smiled, "You make me smile" Hebe looked at him with a serious face which startled him. "Hebe?" he raised his eyebrow. "Do you remember what we discussed about our marriage?" "Ah, yes. Is there something wrong with it?" Aaron became worried. "I'm scared that... it would be revealed and that... you know, people would find out and considering some of your fans are rough, I don't want it to-" Hebe stuttered as she spoke. Aaron could tell that she was scared to let it out. He grabbed her hand gently, "Don't be scared. I understand everything. Some of my fans can be rough and you don't want to be criticized since you can't take it, right?" Hebe nodded. "There's nothing wrong with you telling me that" he played with her hair, "All I want is for us to stay together" She laid on his lap, "Selina and Ella don't even know"

How did Selina and Ella not know this? Hebe knew they respected her but she was afraid that eventually their mouth would run and then, the whole world might know. Just recently one time, Selina showed up at Hebe's apartment without notice. Ding dong! The door bell ranged. Hebe told Aaron to hide in the laundry room or the closet while she goes to open the door. It was like a scene from a movie. "Oh, hey! Lao po!" Hebe greeted Selina, "What brings you here today?" Hebe was happy to see Selina but with Aaron hiding whereever he might be, makes her uncomfortable. Normally, Aaron would not be at home or Selina and Ella would tell her that they'll show up at her house. This time round, Aaron was on a long hiatus so he was home almost all the time. "I just wanted to tell you, I don't think I can make it to your concert until the last day, is that fine?" Hebe listened to Selina's little confession. "Aww, you can come any day, I see you're going to spend sometimes overseas" "I'm not too far from Taipei, you see Ryan Gosling has an event that I want to go to" Selina squealed. Hebe felt sweat coming down her back when Selina walked over to Hebe's closet, "I was thinking if I can borrow that -" Selina's eyes widened, "What's that?" "What's what?" Hebe was sweating hard now. "Is that someone's boxers?" she gasped. There was a grey boxers on the floor. "Dammit Aaron, now she's gonna think that I've been using the bed for something else" Hebe thought. "I guess so?" Hebe shrugged. "You're not gonna tell me whose this is?" Selina pouted. "It's mine" Hebe lied. "Girl, you think these would fit your tiny waist?" she laughed, "Tell me later" If Aaron's not in the closet where is he? Selina went into the laundry room and more was revealed again. Hebe was doing the laundry for Aaron at the time that Selina came. "Guy clothes? I haven't been at your place in a while and you have guy clothes in your laundry room?" She saw one of the shirts that she had seen Aaron wear before. "Doesn't Aaron have this shirt too?" Selina asked Hebe. "You're weird, how did you come up with that?" "Is he living in your place?!" Selina's scream was so loud that Aaron heard it from the bathroom. The next place that Selina's probably going open is the bathroom. Aaron tried to make his way out of the bathroom. Since Selina was facing Hebe, Aaron quietly opened the door from the bathroom. Hebe saw him and motioned for him to run out. Aaron was quick to notice and as he started to run, Selina turned around. "Hebe, who are you motioning to?" She faced Hebe again and Aaron ran from the couch and out the door. "What?" "Hebe!" Selina went into the bathroom. She saw that the toilet seat was up, "Okay, I got it. You're living with a man in the house. BUT WHO!?!" "... I will tell you later. I have to discuss with him first" "Wait, does he know you're a singer?" "Yes he does" "But he doesn't want your best wifeys to know?" "Selina.." Hebe looked down in disappointment, "I will tell when the time is right" "Okay, Lao Po, don't forget to tell me" she hugged Hebe and took away Hebe's scarf. Finally she left the apartment and Hebe sighed. Aaron was so going to get into trouble.

Aaron waited as Hebe came out from the changing room, "How are you going to tell your sisters?" Hebe sighed, "I don't know if I'm ready for it" "Think about how much the rating might go down if you say that I'm dating you" "What rating?" "Your JJ and Hebe Couple Pairing might go on a strike" "Don't say that!" Hebe pouted, "Oh tomorrow is International Human Rights day" "I know!" he picked her up and spun her around, "Do well tomorrow and I'll give you a gift okay?" "Aaron, I'm scared" Hebe suddenly broke down. He was shocked and put her down immediately. It was the criticism that she was most scared of. "Hebe, we both have a lot to explain. It's not everyone we're telling. We're telling Selina and Ella. I trust them" "... " Hebe was silent. "Hebe, your eyes cannot be swollen tomorrow, stop crying" he wiped her tears. She listened to him, "We're already together for 9 years, I don't know why I'm keeping it silent" And so Selina and Ella both showed up at the concert. It was not until after the concert until the three of them got to meet each other in person. "So?" Selina started. "What?" "Don't you remember what happened that day?" "Selina, I've been crying over this"

It was true. Aaron and Hebe always sleep together but that night, he heard sniffles. "Hebe, I told you, please" he begged her. "It's not about our relationship. It's about how long I've kept this from them. It's going to make them feel like they aren't important to me" "You care about that? All they want was an answer to one simple question" "Okay.." she stopped complaining.

"Hebe, there's no need to. I don't want to make you uncomfortable" Selina patted her back. "I am... living with someone that we've known for ten years" "Someone that we all know?" "Yes" Hebe nodded. "Hint, please" "He's supposed to be studying" Hebe blurted. "Aaron" Ella and Selina said at the same time. "Yes, him" Hebe sighed a sigh of relief. Selina wasn't shocked, "And why were you afraid to tell?" "I don't want the relationship to go sour because of me. I can't take criticism and it hurts when people hurt him" "What?" "She's afraid that you guys will not be able to hold it in that she's married to me" Aaron's voice appeared. "Married?!" Ella looked for a ring. "We don't have a ring, I love her from here not from a thing" Aaron pointed to his heart. The two girls smiled while Hebe looked at Aaron. "They're your sisters, baby. Don't be afraid to let them know. And if it gets out there, we are both facing it together, not just you. Believe in the two of us" he hugged Hebe from the back. "H-h-how long have you two been married?" Selina asked. "6 years" "I didn't expect that!!!" Ella blurted. "He's mostly busy so sometimes we live together but recently he's been at my place" Hebe smiled. by lovehebe330 Please do not publish elsewhere without proper credit. (state username and link to original post)

#Selina Ren #Ella Chen #Hebe Tien #Hebe Tian #S.H.E #Aaron Yan #Fanfiction #One Shots #Stories #Scenario #Bebu #OTP

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agent-7-at-your-service · 7 years

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Future Plot: Project Titanomachy - Chapter 30

(( Camille, Lee, Janine, Pac-man, and Depiction of Callie belongs to @inklingleesquidly

Nebula belongs to @myzzy and @agenttwo

Blueshift belongs to @myzzy

Depiction of Agent 2 / Marie belongs to @agenttwo

Celeste and Willow belong to @alpinesquid

Agent 0 and Suzy belong to @son-of-joy

Nebulous and Arsenic belong to @a-demo-of-a-hero

The Galaxa Gems belong to @splat-tendency and @eiden-squid

The Frosted Gems belong to @askvincent / @asktheseastars and @evora-flux

Nexus Corp and Neo Nexus Crop belong to @alphadeathsquad

Agent 7, Agent M, Agent C, Kitzeh, Justinian, Telemachus, and others belong to me

Those not mentioned belong to @twelvetailedkitsune and @petit-blu-inkling and others.))

Parthenon, Athens, Greece - Sunset

Camille quickly woke up in a bed in the Parthenon, Athena’s home. She gets out of the bed and fixes her green tunic. There was the sound of a flute playing, and Camille followed the sound. It was coming from the garden.

When she reached the garden, Athena can be seen in her gazebo, playing the flute to a normal-sized owl.

“Athena?” Camille stepped closer.

Athena stops playing the flute. “Hello, Camille...” She puts down the flute and gets out of the hammock. “You did it.”

Camille could’ve sworn Athena called her by her real name. “Don’t you mean Camilla?”

“....No.” Athena got nervous

“Then how do you know my name?” Camille questioned.

“I think this should need some explaining.” Athena sounded guilty.

((Background Music (BGM): Athena’s Confession https://youtu.be/afkngRhuZkg ))

Athena took Camille to the ledge where they sat and ate meals when she personified as Princess Camilla. Athena confesses that she and Morpheus needed to find a way for her and her family to communicate with their Champions, so reliving memories before, during, and after the Trojan War was the only way she can think of.

Camille was kind of upset that Athena did that to her and her friends.

“So all this time, those dream of me and my friends as your friends is just an illusion made by Morpheus?” Camille questioned.

“Yes.....” Athena looked down.

A servant walks up to them and each of them a pastry and a cup of grape juice. Camille thanked the servants.

“That’s really mean of you, Athena,” Camille commented.

“What was I supposed to do?” Athena looked at her.

Camille looked away, wanting to ignore the spirit of the wise goddess. “Hmph. Some wise-ass goddess you are.”

Athena was not offended. “I know, I know, it’s cruel for me to the that....... but please forgive me!” She grabs her hands. “I never met a friend like you since I meet Camille... And I might not see one like that again...... and I should’ve just simply approached you face-to-face in your dreams! And my greatest sin...... my greatest sin... it’s that I made you relive my best friend’s memories!”

“.....Athena.....” Camille soon embraced her. “Apology accepted... I can’t stay mad at you.....and it was fun hanging out with you.”

Soon they sat closer, eating pastries and grape juice.

“.....This might be the last time we’ll be together, huh?” Camille wondered.

“It is going to be the last time,” Athena answered.

Camille was now reconsidering to not forget this adventure. “But at least we had a blast, right?”

“I can agree with that, Camille.” Princess Camilla sighs. “What about you Athena?”

As the sunsets, Camille began to glow; she’s fading away and leaving her dream.

“There’s one more thing I need to tell...” Athena then got closer to whisper in Camille’s ear. “There’s still an Olympian that has to be stopped.”

Camille thought her adventure was over but kept that in mind as she knew what to do. “....Goodbye, Athena...”

“I miss you very much,” Athena replied.

“I’ll miss you too...,” Camille soon closes her eyes. She shed one tear.

((End of BGM))

Point of No Return, The Titan Fortress - Moon’s Orbit- 1:30 PM

Camille comes to her senses and wakes up for real. She pushed away a wine cup that was placed at her lips. She was panting and coughing out water. Hera puts Hebe’s Wine Cup aside and calms Camille.

“Don’t worry... you’re still here,” Hera began.

Camille and her friends were back on the Point of No Return. There was no longer an arboreal bridge nor is there a corpse of Cronus. Everything was peaceful.

“.....I-it’s over, right?” Camille asked.

“Well we sent Typhon flying into a black hole that closed up minutes ago, I bet he returned to Tartarus to be fed to the beasts dwelling there.” Telemachus still stood where he was, staring at the blackness of space.

“And look at us! We saved Inkopolis, the world, and the whole universe!” Celeste couldn’t wait to get some reward and recognition.

“Calm down, Celeste,” Nebula giggled.

Camille still remembered she freed an inkling that was stuck to Typhon’s body. She quickly got up and walked over to the inkling that was lying on the ground.

It was a maiden with a tattered up dress made from a sail, beads and threads of gold, and sheep’s cotton. The Typhonian crown was no longer on her head. There was a snake ring on her ring finger; a small Greek inscription on it that’s translated as “Ophion” Her inkling hair is completely black, but the roots showed her ink was original a very white periwinkle. She carefully opened her eyes which were the colors green and blue, the colors of water-meadows.

“Who are you?” Camille asked.

“Eurynome... Mother Goddess.....,” The maiden replied, “You... you save me..... Typhon was really my husband, Ophion....... Oh, how our conflict almost brought chaos back....” She was close to dying.

Nebula, Telemachus, Celeste, Justinian, and Hera got a bit closer to look at Eurynome.

“Why did your husband do this, and how did he become that monster?” Nebula asked.

“We fought because he wanted more credit for creating the world..... I had to banish him to Tartarus... I had no choice... but his envy and hate turned him into the monster you fought. He consumed me when I tried to destroy him.” Eurynome paused a few times to breathe. “If he can’t be respected for the world we created together, he would destroy it instead of watch it thrive.”

“And those bound to his influence?” Celeste asked.

“....They were all just his pawns spreading the word of his coming. The Titans were the last sign made by a certain Olympian....” Eurynome smiles a bit when she gazed upon the Earth. “But that Olympian doesn’t matter for now..... All I want is to see the world thrive.....” She looked at Camille. “Thank you....” She then closed her eyes and turns into gray ink which quickly evaporated.

Camille sighed and gets up. “Rest in peace...”

After a moment of silence, the six inkling need to return home.

“We still have to return back to earth,” Justinian reminded, “No idea how we’re going to get back.”

“I..... I think I know a way.” Athena spear was beside Camille, and she picks it up and pointed it directly at Inkopolis. “Guys hold on.”

Everyone gather and place their hand on Camille’s spear. Lightning strikes the spear and in a flash, they’re back in Inkopolis.

Streets of Inkopolis to Alexandria District - 1:50 PM

(( Background Music - Victory! : https://youtu.be/aAs7Wxvc1_o ))

Trumpets sounded, drums were beats, and Amazons chanted tunes. The Greek Mythos Force were marching into Inkopolis and to along with Agents and Heroes. Calypso and Leviathan, Nexus Corp, Neo Nexus Corp, and Inkopolis Defense followed as well.

Agent M and Agent C were carrying Camille on their shoulders while Nebula, Celeste, Telemachus, Justinian, and Hera were being carried by Amazons on their shoulders. Willow, Nebulous, Arsenic, and Kitzeh were behind the six champions. Hephaestus was behind them with Hermes and Anteros, Suzy was behind helping a patched up Agent 0 in the parade, and behind them were the Minor Olympians.

As this victory parade passed by the safety zone, everyone was cheered for them. The Galaxa Gems, The Frosted Stars, Janine, Myzzy, Pac-man, and much more were applauding.

When the victory parade reached Alexandria District, Camille, Nebula, Celeste, Telemachus, Justinian, and Hera walks up the steps to meet with Agent 7 who had Lee, Callie, Agent Blueshift, and Agent 2 by his side.

Camille and her Party salute; Agent 7 salutes back. Camille’s parent run up to Camille to give her a hug. Callie is about to cry tears of joy, Lee is glad his daughter came back in one piece. Blueshift and Agent 2 did the same with Nebula. Agent 7 walks up to Telemachus, Justinian, and Hera and he nods in approval.

Camille lets her parents let go for a moment so that she can look at everyone and raise Athena’s spear in the air. Everyone was applauding.

((End of BGM))

The Titanomachy is over.

One day later...

Earth and several planets started to recover from the Titans’ wrath and the coming of Typhon. All the forces that defended Inkopolis were returning to their normal lives. Camille and the Olympians had to return Mount Olympus to do one more thing.

The Olympian Vault - Hephaestus's Forge, Mount Olympus, Greece - 7:00 PM

Hephaestus has made notified those with Olympian artifacts to return them back to the vault. Hermes and Anteros were an exception since Hermes is still alive while Anteros was inheriting his brother's artifacts.

(( Musical Number: https://youtu.be/ehLVcUJj6ME ))

When the Olympic Champions returned one more time to Mt. Olympus, Hephaestus actually has a gift for them: a play. Hephaestus’s story tell was praising Agent 7 more, but the Muses appeared out of nowhere and decided to tell the story their way.

Living Murals retold how Camille and her friends are fighting the Titans with a bit of over exaggeration. And it was quite entertaining with it music and singing.

((End of Musical Number))

When it was time to return the Olympian Artifacts, Hephaestus took the Champions to the vault.

Arsenic returns the hammer and tongs to Hephaestus. “It was nice using these to make weapons.”

“My blessing onto you, Arsenic.” Hephaestus pats Arsenic’s shoulder. “May my blessings help ya.”

“Aww... I really liked to keep these, they’re awesome,” Celeste complained, putting Hestia’s heart back in its rightful pedestal.

Willow puts Asclepius’s Staff on its pedestal. “Cheer up, Celeste, at least this war against the titans is over.”

“Same here,” Justinian agreed, returning Demeter’s shoulder bag and Persephone’s Staff back on their pedestals.

“We all have to return these, we can’t keep them forever.” Hera places the goddess Hera’s Scepter and Hebe’s Wine Cup back on their pedestals.

“At least my daughters are avenged.” Agent 0 places Ares’ weapons and armor back on the pedestal. Camille gave him the honor to place Apollo’s Bow and Artemis’s Antler on their rightful pedestals. “There’s no point in possessing such powerful items.”

Kitzeh drank one more canteen of Dionysus’s wine before placing the wine god’s belongings back on its pedestal. “Yup.... gonna miss that.”

Camille rolls her eyes and looked at Athena’s spear. She sighed and placed the Spear on its pedestal, but she stopped as the pedestal of Athena and the pedestal of Zeus have a barrier of black apple tree roots formed over them.

The pedestal of Hades, the pedestal of Heracles, and the pedestal of Poseidon have the same barrier.

Hephaestus is alarmed. “This can’t be.....”

“What’s the meaning of this?” Agent 7 questioned Hephaestus.

Camille soon realized what Athena meant when she said there’s an Olympian that still needed to be stopped.

“OH COME ON!!!” Camille shouted.

Meanwhile...

Underworld(?) - Time Unknown

In the darkness, a young boy stood silent. Before him, a silhouette of a woman was looking down at him.

“They may have won... but my true intentions are from the stone,” The woman stated.

The boy showed her the Omphalos Stone.

The woman takes it and giggles. “Perfect~” Her yellow ominous eyes can be seen. “Soon my son, we’ll rebuild Olympus... with me as the ruler, and no one can stop me.”

[Continues in the 3 Part Epilogue]

#Futue #Plot #Project Titanomachy

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hellenic-culture-blog · 7 years

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Theogonia - Hesiod (Pt 1)

(ll. 1-25) From the Heliconian Muses let us begin to sing, who hold the great and holy mount of Helicon, and dance on soft feet about the deep-blue spring and the altar of the almighty son of Cronos, and, when they have washed their tender bodies in Permessus or in the Horse's Spring or Olmeius, make their fair, lovely dances upon highest Helicon and move with vigorous feet. Thence they arise and go abroad by night, veiled in thick mist, and utter their song with lovely voice, praising Zeus the aegis- holder and queenly Hera of Argos who walks on golden sandals and the daughter of Zeus the aegis-holder bright-eyed Athene, and Phoebus Apollo, and Artemis who delights in arrows, and Poseidon the earth-holder who shakes the earth, and reverend Themis and quick-glancing (1) Aphrodite, and Hebe with the crown of gold, and fair Dione, Leto, Iapetus, and Cronos the crafty counsellor, Eos and great Helius and bright Selene, Earth too, and great Oceanus, and dark Night, and the holy race of all the other deathless ones that are for ever. And one day they taught Hesiod glorious song while he was shepherding his lambs under holy Helicon, and this word first the goddesses said to me -- the Muses of Olympus, daughters of Zeus who holds the aegis:

(ll. 26-28) `Shepherds of the wilderness, wretched things of shame, mere bellies, we know how to speak many false things as though they were true; but we know, when we will, to utter true things.'

(ll. 29-35) So said the ready-voiced daughters of great Zeus, and they plucked and gave me a rod, a shoot of sturdy laurel, a marvellous thing, and breathed into me a divine voice to celebrate things that shall be and things there were aforetime; and they bade me sing of the race of the blessed gods that are eternally, but ever to sing of themselves both first and last. But why all this about oak or stone? (2)

(ll. 36-52) Come thou, let us begin with the Muses who gladden the great spirit of their father Zeus in Olympus with their songs, telling of things that are and that shall be and that were aforetime with consenting voice. Unwearying flows the sweet sound from their lips, and the house of their father Zeus the loud-thunderer is glad at the lily-like voice of the goddesses as it spread abroad, and the peaks of snowy Olympus resound, and the homes of the immortals. And they uttering their immortal voice, celebrate in song first of all the reverend race of the gods from the beginning, those whom Earth and wide Heaven begot, and the gods sprung of these, givers of good things. Then, next, the goddesses sing of Zeus, the father of gods and men, as they begin and end their strain, how much he is the most excellent among the gods and supreme in power. And again, they chant the race of men and strong giants, and gladden the heart of Zeus within Olympus, -- the Olympian Muses, daughters of Zeus the aegis-holder.

(ll. 53-74) Them in Pieria did Mnemosyne (Memory), who reigns over the hills of Eleuther, bear of union with the father, the son of Cronos, a forgetting of ills and a rest from sorrow. For nine nights did wise Zeus lie with her, entering her holy bed remote from the immortals. And when a year was passed and the seasons came round as the months waned, and many days were accomplished, she bare nine daughters, all of one mind, whose hearts are set upon song and their spirit free from care, a little way from the topmost peak of snowy Olympus. There are their bright dancing-places and beautiful homes, and beside them the Graces and Himerus (Desire) live in delight. And they, uttering through their lips a lovely voice, sing the laws of all and the goodly ways of the immortals, uttering their lovely voice. Then went they to Olympus, delighting in their sweet voice, with heavenly song, and the dark earth resounded about them as they chanted, and a lovely sound rose up beneath their feet as they went to their father. And he was reigning in heaven, himself holding the lightning and glowing thunderbolt, when he had overcome by might his father Cronos; and he distributed fairly to the immortals their portions and declared their privileges.

Earth = Gaia (The Goddess Earth)

Heaven = Ouranos (The God Sky)

Learn More Here

#greek mythology #hellenic polytheism #hellenic deities #theogonia #hesiod #gods #goddessses

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mythologyfolklore · 4 years

Text

Ares and Athena through the years - Ch. 08

Chapter 8: Sickbed visits

Three years.

That was how long Ares remained in the Akesian Sleep.

Since he was unconscious, he was fed nectar and ambrosia through infusions.

He was so weak and his divine aura so diminished, that the healing deities had to pour additional healing essence into the water twice a week for over a year.

It wasn't uncommon, that one of them, mostly Apollon and Asklepios, collapsed from exhaustion.

Even after Ares' state had improved enough to end the regular supply of extra healing magic, Apollon was completely drained (Asklepios was more used to working hard as a healer, thus took it better).

“It'll take years for my healing energy to regenerate, but I'll be fine”, he assured his worried twin sister, although Artemis wasn't convinced at all.

“You'll definitely be more fine than Ares, when he wakes up and realises that he'll need decades of rehab to get back in shape”, Asklepios commented.

The three chuckled at the thought; the war god would be so pissed, but he'd have to suck it up.

One morning Asklepios' daughter Panakeia (All-Cure) came to check on the patient and found, that the Sleep was coming to an end: Ares would wake up soon.

She beamed and went to inform the other gods.

A few hours later he was out of the pool, had been salved and dressed into a hospital gown and was sleeping in the recovery room.

It was another two days, until he actually woke up; the Akesian Sleep always took a while to seep out and he had been in it for so long.

Apollon was the one, who witnessed his older half-brother waking up.

First it was a slight twitch of the eyelids. They slowly opened and soon Ares was blinking and glancing around disorientated.

Apollon waited until the other's red eyes focussed on him, before he spoke: “Good morning, Ares. Welcome back in the land of the living.”

“Where am I …?”

“You're in sickbay. In the recovery room to be exact. We pulled you out of the Akesian Sleep a few days ago.”

The war god seemed to need a bit to let it sink in.

“How long was I asleep?”, he finally breathed out, his voice too hoarse from disuse.

“Three years”, Apollon answered with a frown.

“Holy shit.”

“Yup.”

There were a few minutes of awkward silence, before Apollon finally asked: “How are you feeling now?”

“Kinda hungover.”

The younger god chuckled: “Yes, the Akesian Sleep does that to you.”

“An' really weak.”

“That's no wonder, after what you have gone through. Do you want something to drink or eat?”

“M-hm. Some water …”

Apollon handed him a jug of water from the night stand.

But when Ares took it, he frowned. “Why is it so heavy?”

The god of light hesitated, but answered: “That's probably your lack of muscle mass. You haven't been training in more than four years, so of course they deteriorated. Take a look at your hands and arms.”

Ares did and his face twisted with disgust at how frail and skinny he was.

“Lemme guess: I'll need years of rehab?”

“You'll need years of rehab.”

“Shit.”

Apollon tried to conceal his pity, knowing the other didn't want it. “Just drink your water. I'll let the others know, that you're awake.”

Ares was surprised at how many people came to visit him.

Just a few minutes after Apollon had left, the war god heard a commotion outside.

But then Apollon's voice called out: “Not so fast! He's just woken up, is still in a fragile state and he needs quiet! I will not let you all pester him at once! Only two at a time and that's final!”

I'll show you fragile!, Ares thought sourly, but he still was grateful. He really was in no condition to deal with everyone's chattering, questions … and their pity.

Then Apollon let the first pair in.

Aphrodite pushed Hephaistos' chair next to her lover's bed.

“Hey there”, the latter greeted his older brother. “How are you feeling?”

“Eh”, Ares muttered, “Kinda shitty. How 'bout you two?”

“We've been better”, Aphrodite told him. “We … we've been worried sick about you. Three years in a coma, damn the Fates!”

Ares took a closer look at her and saw that her eyes were a bit puffy. She was wearing make-up and something told him, that it was to conceal wrinkles of sorrow.

Hephaistos too looked a bit drained, and … was that a strand of grey hair?

“You have aged.”

“We know”, Hephaistos replied, “But that's nothing Hebe can't fix. We just didn't want to go to her, before you'd wake up.”

Ares grinned wryly: “Well, I'm sure you two look better than I do. Be real with me, guys; how nasty do I look?”

“You look horrid”, Aphrodite said honestly.

“Not much better than I did, when I got thrown off Olympos, I reckon”, Hephaistos commented.

Ares snorted: “Probably not. Anyway, how are the kids?”

“They're fine”, Aphrodite assured him. “But they miss you. And Eros is sad, because you couldn't be there on his birthday last week.”

Ares smiled fondly. “Tell the kids I love them, hm?”

Aphrodite reciprocated the smile. “I will. And they love you too. You know that, right?”

He chuckled hoarsely: “Sure do.”

I'm a lucky bastard in that regard, I really am.

Suddenly Hephaistos bent forward and took his brother's hand.

“How is the voice in your head?”, he asked earnestly.

Ares closed his eyes and allowed himself to dive into his mind.

Hey! Are you there?

No, Ares, I'm on a field trip to the Garden of the Hesperides!, came the sarcastic response.

The corner of his mouth twitched upward. “He's fine. Back to being an old bitch already.”

Who are you calling an old bitch?!

Aphrodite and Hephaistos chuckled in amusement and both squeezed his hands.

The rest of the sickbed visit was spent in a silent serenity, that less than a century earlier would have been impossible.

Hermes and Dionysos came together (unsurprisingly).

Their visit wasn't as tranquil, but a lot more entertaining in that these two had a lot of funny stories to share with their older brother.

Sadly Apollon soon kicked them out, saying that they were too loud.

Uncle Poseidon and aunt Demeter kept their visits short, but that was fine, because Ares wasn't particularly close to either.

“What time of the year is it anyway?”, he asked.

Demeter told him, that it was winter. “But Sephy and Hades called, they're coming for a visit too.”

“Neat”, the war god replied, “I kinda miss them.”

“They miss you too”, his aunt replied.

A moment of silence followed.

Then Poseidon spoke: “You know, we were really terrified, when we saw you in that state – and even more so, when we took a look at the chains.”

“How cursed were they?”, the war god inquired.

“Pure evil”, the sea god answered sombrely. “And your parents and us recognised them – the chains that once bound the Kyklopes and Hekatonkheires.”

Ares' eyes widened.

Of course he had heard of them; Zeus had told him all about the beginning of the Titanomakhia, when he was small – when they had still been half-way on speaking terms, of course. Zeus had mentioned the chains, but Ares had assumed it was to make the Titanes look more evil. So they had been real?!

“We don't know, how the Aloiadai got hold of them”, Poseidon continued, “But don't worry, the chains are no more. One of the Protogenoi obliterated them.”

Ares nodded. “Good.”

“The Aloiadai are gone too. Athena and Artemis took them out.”

“Even better.”

Artemis came alone.

“'Sup, psycho”, she greeted him.

Ares grinned. “'Sup, spoiled brat.”

She laughed, but quickly settled down and cleared her throat.

“Ahem, fun aside. How are you feeling, considering the circumstances?”

He shrugged weakly. “Could be better.”

“You nearly died.”

“I know.”

She refilled his jug with water and he took it gratefully.

After taking a few swigs, he set it down on the night table.

“I heard you and Daddy's Owl took them out?”

“Yes, but stop calling Athena Daddy's Owl.”

“Not in a million years.”

Artemis rolled her eyes. “You know what, forget about that. If it's any comfort to you, their death was slow and painful. And Eris helped us too, sowed strife and that junk.”

Ares grinned: “It is a comfort. Thank you, Basileis¹.”

Her eyes widened, as he used that epithet.

He had never called her that before – normally, if he didn't call her by her name, he called her “Lêtôis”² or, if he felt spiteful, “bastard child” to rub her illegitimate birth into her face.

For some reason she couldn't help but shrug and grin broadly.

“No problem, Andreiphontês³.”

When Athena came to see her half-brother, she had in mind, what she wanted to say.

But she was also aware, that Ares would probably ruin her plans, like the chaotic neutral he was. Artemis had already warned her, that he was back at calling her “Daddy's Owl” again, so she didn't expect any good conduct from the brutish god.

The sight caused her a light nausea.

Lying in bed, still skin and bones and deathly pale, he looked disgustingly frail.

But he seemed as perceptive as ever; he took one look at her face and his red eyes narrowed.

“Spare me your pity, Daddy's Owl”, he growled throatily.

“I would, but it's hard not to pity you; you look truly wretched”, she retorted coolly.

He snorted: “So I've been told. Then again, more than a year in captivity and torture and three in a coma don't exactly make one prettier.”

She took a deep breath to remain calm.

“I heard that I'm obliged to you”, he went on, “I can't claim that this pleases me.”

“I know.”

He sighed frustratedly: “Thanking Artemis was much easier. Then again, I don't hate her as much as I hate you.”

“The feeling is mutual. And frankly, I hope I will never be obliged to you. The last thing I want is for you to help me out of a precarious situation, when I can't do it myself for some reason.”

The response was a faltering, wheezing laugh – eerily similar to a death rattle.

She frowned: “You sound like you're dying from pneumonia. Are you sure your lungs are completely healed?”

“Well, with my luck, they might still be damaged. Or my voice and throat are just that hoarse from disuse. Anyway, Daddy's Owl-”

“Will you ever stop calling me that?!”

He grinned lopsidedly: “Sure, on the day you're not Zeus' 'little Owl-Eye' anymore.”

“… You know, a simple 'No' would have sufficed, you fucking arsehole.”

He mock-gasped: “What is this I hear? Is Zeus' favourite losing her composure?”

Refusing to dignify that, she turned away and spoke icily: “You better recover quickly, because I can't wait to kick your sorry behind again.”

Ares laughed again: “Actually, I might just train harder and one day I'll be better than-”

Suddenly he stopped short.

“Wait … wait, are you – Owl, are you crying?!”

“Bullshit”, she muttered and blinked furiously, before turning back to him.

Ares was sitting up – albeit with some effort – and looking completely bewildered.

“Hey, come on, don't cry. I'm sorry! I didn't think you were that upset about-”

“I'm not crying, you twit!”

“Yes, you are! Ya know, there are paper tissues on the night table-”

Ares gasped in surprise, as she grabbed his face. Her eyes were blazing with fury.

“What the Tartaros were you thinking?!”, she hissed, “Taking on two opponents twice your size, while you were still having that cough, you … you stupid fuck! You dumbass!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know”, he muttered, “But next time I'll be better prepared …”

“Shut the Tartaros up, you moron!”

She slapped him, only to hug him immediately afterwards.

Ares tensed up at first, but then she felt his hand gingerly pat her back.

“Shhhh. Hey, come on. I'll be fine. Give it a few years of rehab and we'll be back at each other's throat.”

Athena chuckled wryly: “Good. I have a lot of pent-up aggression.”

“Ditto! An' just you wait, Daddy's Owl! I'll train harder than before and one day I will surpass you!”

She snorted: “Keep dreaming, Thêritas⁴. I will always be the better one.”

“You keep telling yourself that, you arrogant owl!”, Ares cackled. “I will get you off that crazy high pedestal of yours, you'll see!”

But all of the sudden he stopped laughing and his face grew suspicious. “Wait … look at me.”

One piercing gaze later, Ares' red eyes darkened with realisation.

“Eris has told you everything.”

Athena, knowing what he meant, nodded. “She has.”

“You haven't told anyone.”

“No. I promised her not to.”

“Good. Hey, lemme propose a deal to ya.”

Athena's interest was piqued. “Oh? What is it?”

“You'll continue keeping quiet about it. I won't tell anyone about your breakdown.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You're driving a hard bargain, brother.”

He smirked: “That I do.”

“… Alright. It's a deal.”

“And this better not change anything between us.”

“Absolutely not. You're the last person I'd give special treatment to, Ares.”

“Good. Let's shake on it.”

With faces like thunder they shook on it.

A few visits later, he was feeling incredibly tired and really just wanted to sleep.

So he couldn't help but groan, when Apollon told him that another couple was waiting.

“Yes, I know you're tired and I told them you need rest, but they insist and I can hardly turn them away”, the blond explained awkwardly.

“Never mind”, the war god muttered. “Let's get this over with.”

“Right”, Apollon nodded and went into the other room.

Ares was … actually caught by surprise, when his half-brother returned with his parents.

They sat down by his bedside.

Awkward silence settled in, none of the three knowing what to say.

Until eventually Ares said: “Hey.”

To his dismay Hera broke down and cried into his covered stomach.

Zeus sighed and stroked her back.

Hating to see his mother cry, Ares placed his hand onto hers.

“You idiot!”, Hera sobbed, “You complete and utter dumbass! Taking on two Gigantes by yourself, while you had a cold no less! What were you thinking?!”

“That's a good question”, Zeus agreed sternly, “Ares, what were you thinking?”

Ares almost laughed, but held it in. “I was just sick of it. Those two bastards harassing everyone. And no one was doing anything.”

Then he frowned at them reproachfully. “Why did it take you so long to go and look for me? Would you even have done something, if the mortal who found me hadn't told you where I was? I know we're estranged, but this is bullshit.”

“You're doing us wrong”, Zeus replied, “It's true, it took us four months to realise, that you had been kidnapped – but we never stopped looking for you once we did.”

Ares lifted a brow. “Where did you think I was? Didn't you notice it was suddenly much quieter?”

Zeus chuckled: “It's never quiet here. But to answer your question, we thought you were in Thrace. It wasn't until Helios told us what had happened, that we learned the truth. But he couldn't say where you were, because the Aloiadai took you to some place the sunlight doesn't touch.”

“… Why would I go to Thrace in such a situation?”

Hera looked up and glared tearfully. “How should we know? It's not like you ever let us know, what really goes on inside your head!”

That was true. Ares always said, what was on his mind right now, but he never let anyone see, what was beneath. His bluntness and honesty were superficial.

The war god closed his eyes and heaved another sigh.

“I'm sorry”, he murmured. “I … I didn't mean to make you all worry. I didn't even think you actually care.”

“Well, you're wrong!”, Zeus and Hera snapped in unison – blinked, stared at each other and snickered like the old couple they were.

Ares was so happy about this rare moment of harmony between his parents, that he bit back his “Would've been nice to hear that as a kid”-comment.

Zeus cleared his throat and his face grew stern. “My son, promise us to never do this again. We very nearly lost you. Had you died, we never would have forgiven ourselves.”

After what he had been through, that was an easy promise to make.

“I promise and … can you say that again?”

The King of the Gods tilted his head. “'Had you died, we never would have forgiven ourselves'?”

“No, the first thing.”

Catching on, Zeus smiled.

“My son.”

---

1) Basileis: Princess, Royal (one of Artemis' epithets, since she's the daughter of Zeus - Ares is basically acknowledging, that his half-sister is not another one of his father's "love children") 2) Lêtois: Daughter of Leto 3) Andreiphontês: Men-Destroyer (one of Ares' epithets) 4) Thêritas: Brutish/Beastly One

#Greek Mythology #apollon #asklepios #artemis #aphrodite #hephaistos #dionysos #hermes #demeter #poseidon #athena #hera #zeus

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mythologyfolklore · 4 years

Text

Ares and Athena through the years - Ch. 11

Chapter Eleven: The Trojan War, pt. 03

(A/N: The end of the Iliad with some comic relief and lots of heartbreak at the end, because that's how the Iliad works. This isn't the last chapter about the Trojan War, but the next one will be. This is just the last part of the Iliad.)

Book Nineteen:

The next morning saw Thetis giving her son a freshly forged armour of such splendour, that Akhilleus was the only one who could even look at it directly.

As he marched the camp up and down, the other leaders came to the assembly, even though Agamemnon, Diomedes and Odysseus were severely injured and could hardly walk.

Akhilleus announced the end of his strike, much to the delight of the Achaean army.

He and Agamemnon finally talked things out and buried their old grudges.

“Right!”, Akhilleus exclaimed, “Enough talking! Let's go into battle already!”

“Not so fast!”, Odysseus (the resident braincell-owner) objected. “Our troops are exhausted and many of us are wounded. We need all the energy we can get. So there is one more thing we have to do first!”

“And what would that be?”, Akhilleus snarled impatiently.

“Have breakfast”, Odysseus deadpanned.

“OH COME ON!!!”

“No.”

Book Twenty:

On Olympos Zeus had made his ex-wife Thémis gather all the gods (literally all of them – even the Naiades and Dryades¹). Tiredly they dragged themselves out of bed and into the assembly hall.

Poseidon was the first to speak.

“Sooooo”, he drawled, “What are you plotting now, Astrapaios²?”

Zeus was lounging on his throne like a boss.

“Oh, you know what I want, Ennosigaios³! I won't wish for Akhilleus to conquer the city just yet, but he will, if we're not careful. And this is why I hereby decree, that the prohibition is lifted! You may interfere with the battle as much as you please!”

Suddenly everyone was wide awake and those who had taken a side in the war went to ready themselves for a battle royal – uh, I mean battle divine.

Of the Olympians, Dionysos (one of the few gods who had refused to get involved at all) was the last to leave the room. He used the opportunity to question his father.

“Dad, if you don't mind …”

“Ask away!”

“Why exactly did you change your mind again?”

Zeus chuckled at his son's perceptiveness.

“For the reason I stated earlier of course. Well, that and because I want to amuse myself by sitting here in my neutrality and watching this divine spectacle.”

“… Can I sit with you?”

“Sure, my son! Bring wine, this is going to be good!”

The gods joined the war and wasted no time in making things more interesting … for them!

Eris was having a blast with this spectacle.

Zeus was setting the mood above with thunder and rain.

Poseidon struck the ground with his trident and the queen of earthquakes happened.

“WHAT THE FUCK???”, he heard Hades' voice shriek from below, “POSEIDON, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING??? IF THE GROUND BREAKS OPEN AND FALLS DOWN IT WILL REVEAL THE UNDERWORLD AND BURY EVERYTHING BENEATH!!!”

Poseidon laughed sheepishly and yelled back down: “SORRY, BRO!”

Maybe I overdid it with that earthquake …

Some distance away, Apollon had convinced Aineías, that fighting Akhilleus would be a brilliant idea.

Poseidon didn't notice until Hera pat his shoulder and said to him and Athena: “Uh, we have a little problem back there” - and pointed to where Aineías and Akhilleus were about to duke it out.

“Don't worry, sister”, he replied, “We're stronger than them. If any of Troy's gods comes close to Akhilleus, that's nothing we can't take care of.”

Still, the gods of the Achaeans didn't want to engage in a bloodbath, before agreeing on a strategy.

On the battlefield, Aineías and Akhilleus ran into each other and started with a verbal duel, before lunging at each other. Poseidon quickly assessed, that the son of Thetis was outclassing the son of Aphrodite.

“Alright, here I come!”, he sighed, “Apollon won't save him, but the youngster is fated to live.”

Then he threw himself into the maddening throng and momentarily blinded Akhilleus, before he could decapitate the disarmed Trojan. Grabbing the mortal by the arms, Poseidon took to flight and carried him away to safety.

“Okay!”, he snapped at him, once they were back on the ground, “First off: Are you fucking insane?! Trying to take on Akhilleus, who is favoured by the gods and far stronger than you? He will send you to Hades, before your time is up! Secondly: as long as he is alive, you stay away from battle, you dumbass son of an even more dumbass goddess!”

With that, the Lord of the Sea left Aineías behind to wonder what the heck had just happened.

Akhilleus on the other hand just shrugged it off and went back to slaughtering Trojans en masse.

Apollon had warned Hektor not to go against the deranged demigod, but when the Trojan prince saw one of his brothers get killed by that very man, he forgot the warning and attacked him.

Akhilleus immediately recognised the slayer of his dear soulmate and charged with a battle cry.

But Apollon, always having the best timing, stepped in and saved the Trojan.

Again.

This is getting old.

Book Twenty-One:

The Trojans were fleeing in panic from the deranged and bloodthirsty demigod.

But Hera conjured a thick fog, making it impossible for them to see.

Those who didn't get lost in the fog where cornered and driven into the holy waters of the river Xanthos (or Skamandros, as the mortals called him). They jumped or fell into the quick waters, struggling and screaming for help. Akhilleus in his blood rush jumped after them and slaughtered the Trojans, who were already drowning, dyeing the waters red with blood.

That pissed off the river god, because no one liked having their waters defiled with gore and corpses. Politely requesting Akhilleus to stop dumping corpses into his river didn't help, so Xanthos lost his temper and promptly left his riverbed to make the demigod stop.

Only when this colossal mass of water rose before him, was Akhilleus seized by fear and he made a run for it across the field. But the river always caught up to him, because he was still just a demigod and Xanthos a full god and gods just were stronger than mortals (unless you were Herakles).

Athena and Poseidon came to his rescue, before he could die a most unheroic death by drowning. They warned him to go back to the battlefield, kill Hektor and return to the Achaean camp, then they left to mind their own business.

But the river wasn't done yet; it joined forces with another river, both hell-bent on drowning Akhilleus.

This was seen by Hera, who turned to Hephaistos. “My son, I thought you would take care of the river god? What are you waiting for? Show him your destructive flames. I will release the winds to fuel them. Do not stop, until I ask you to.”

Hephaistos, powerful fire god that he was, raised his arms and unleashed his divine fire above the river (never mind, that it was still raining). Hera released the north and south wind.

The unearthly fire storm, hotter than the surface of the sun⁴, spread across the heath, consumed the bodies of the dead and made the rivers writhe in agony from being boiled alive.

Xanthos soon begged for mercy, but Hephaistos was only following his mother's orders, so the river turned to Hera and begged her to control her son.

Now the Queen of the Skies finally showed the mercy asked of her and told her son to stop.

Hephaistos rolled his eyes, but called his fire back.

Xanthos returned to his river bed, recovered from the torment and he stuck his head out of the water to glare at the fire god. “And here I thought you were not an arsehole!”

The divine blacksmith laughed: “Oh, you're wrong! I'm less of an arsehole than the other Olympians, but I still can be a prick!”

Hera chuckled in amusement.

On his throne on Olympos, Zeus was having the time of his life, because now the gods were charging at each other at last.

“Ohhh, now they're getting started! This is going to be priceless! Where are the wine, cookies and my camera?”

Hebe and Dionysos brought him both and then sat with him to enjoy the show.

In the meantime, Athena had finally turned to Ares.

“'Sup, arsehole”, she greeted him.

“'Sup, fellow arsehole”, he retorted. Then he had his sword out. “Don't think I have forgot how you let that fucker Diomedes pierce with a spear! Now it's time for payback!”

I thought he already had- oh, never mind.

He attacked first and they duked it out for a while, before he threw his spear at the impenetrable Aigis she was wearing on her chest. Athena leapt back, grabbed a stone and hit her opponent at the back of his neck with it.

Knocked out, he collapsed.

“Hah!”, she yelled in triumph. “I'm the one who gets the payback! That's for abandoning your mother and me in favour of supporting the Trojans! Well, that and the fucking prohibition you put into our father's head. What's that with you always forgetting what everyone has realised a long time ago: that I am stronger than you and always will be!”

“Ares!”

Athena whirled around to see the goddess of love running to her lover's aid.

Aphrodite grabbed Ares' arm and began to drag him to safety.

“Are you just letting her do that?”, Hera spat at Athena.

The goddess of wisdom rolled her eyes. “Alright, I'm on it!”

Strode up to Aphrodite, who was struggling under Ares' weight and hit her on the chest, knocking her out as well. There they lay, with the bright-eyed goddess standing above them.

“This is what happens to the allies of Troy and everyone who gets in my way!”, she snarled.

Aphrodite came to herself and glared up. “You're full of shit, Athena.”

The war goddess shrugged. “Look around, Aphrodite. Everyone here is full of shit. Especially you.”

At the same time, Poseidon was facing Apollon.

The sea god taunted his nephew: “What is stopping you, Sunny Boy, now that the others are at each other's throats?”

Apollon sighed: “Can you please not call me 'Sunny Boy'? That's Ares' shtick. Also-”

“Whatever, Sunny Boy. Where is the fun in going home without a single scratch? Let's duke it out! But first tell me: why are you supporting the Trojans? Don't you remember how they treated us? When Zeus stripped us of our immortality for a year, we had to serve Laomedon for a pittance! I built this mighty wall around Troy, while you herded his cattle. And when the year was finally over, he denied us pay and threatened to bind us, cut our ears off and sell us off as slaves! And you're helping the Trojans, after all of this? Explain!”

But Apollon remained calm.

“Does it really matter? Let's leave the mortals to their devices. I don't want to fight you over them, uncle. You're way out of my league, it would be madness.”

But Artemis grabbed him by the shoulder, outraged. “So you're chickening out?! You just give up and let him win?! If so, then don't ever let us hear you brag, that you could take on Poseidon!”

But Apollon just arched an eyebrow. “I'm not 'chickening out'. I just know, when to quit – unlike someone I know.”

As if on cue, Hera confronted Artemis: “You little brat! If you have the spine to make me or Poseidon your enemy, you're dumber than I thought! I will show you, just how outclassed you really are!”

Then she seized the goddess of the hunt by both wrists with one hand, tore her quiver and arrows off her shoulder with the other and smacked the shit out of her with it. When Hera was done with her, Artemis was running back to Olympos crying, leaving her bow and arrows on the battlefield.

Hermes saw this and let his opponent Leto take the win. The Titanis of motherhood gratefully gathered up the weapons of her daughter from the floor and returned to Olympos to console her.

Apollon blinked after them. “What the Tartaros did just happen?”

Poseidon laughed heartily: “Just because my sister is the goddess of marriage doesn't mean she can't kick arse! Or where do you think Ares got his temper from?”

The Earthshaker looked to the sky and knew that Zeus was shaking with laughter.

On the battlefield Akhilleus was still massacring Trojans left and right.

The king Priamos saw this from the top of the wall and ordered for the gates to be opened, so his people could save themselves.

Apollon came onto the field through the gates and held his hand over them, while they scrambled to the sweet safety of their city. He took the shape of a Trojan Akhilleus had been about to kill and allowed to chase him across the field, away from the gates of Troy. That bought the Trojans the time they needed to escape the wrath of Thetis' son.

All of them, except for Hektor; he didn't make it in time, before the gates closed.

The greatest warrior of the Trojans was shut outside.

Book Twenty-Two:

Apollon led Akhilleus away from Troy, before finally turning around.

“Hey, arsehole! Guess who!” And dropped his disguise.

Then he proceeded to mock the raging demigod, who was out of breath after chasing him for kilometres: “While you ran after me like a moron, thinking that you stand a chance against me, the Trojans have barricaded themselves inside their city! They are out of your reach and you will never defeat me, Apollon!”

“You … you deceived me!”, Akhilleus gasped, “So is … the most lethal of the gods … the protector of Troy … otherwise I would have killed them all! But damn you! If it was in my power, I would give you payback!”

Apollon gritted his teeth: “But you can't, mortal.”

Akhilleus screamed in fury and dashed back to Troy with swift feet.

Hektor was waiting in front of the walls of Troy to challenge vengeful Akhilleus and face his imminent demise.

On top of the walls, his aged father was weeping over the cruelty of fate: that he would have to see his sons and many of his people die, his city sacked, his daughters ravaged, his grandchildren and himself murdered, his daughters-in-law sold into slavery.

But no matter how much Priamos beseeched him, Hektor didn't yield and stayed where he was, even though he was terrified. Yet as soon as he saw Akhilleus clearly, bloodthirsty and deranged like Ares himself, his flight instinct kicked in and he ran for his life. Only Apollon's assistance prevented the son of Thetis from catching up to Hektor.

While Akhilleus chased the slayer of Patroklos around the city walls three times in a row, the gods were watching from above.

Zeus shook his head. “I don't like seeing him being chased around his own city like that. And it's really a shame, that he should die already. He always honoured us gods beyond measure. Should I save this noble man or-”

“No!”, Athena protested at once, “His time is up, he must die! We can't randomly spare mortals, just because we favour them. Do whatever you want, but none of us will approve.”

“… Do what you must, but do it quickly.”

On Olympos, in the Room of Fate, the Scales of Fate weighed the lot of Hektor against Akhilleus.

That of Hektor sank, that of Akhilleus rose up.

Apollon, as the god of prophecy, sensed the shift and reluctantly left Hektor to face his doom.

Athena on the other hand joined the angry Akhilleus.

“Today the Achaeans will gain a most glorious victory! We shall slay Hektor! He is destined to die by our hands and not even Apollon's pleas to Zeus will save him now. Now hold up and catch your breath, while I persuade him to face you in battle.”

She caught up to Hektor in the shape of one of his brothers and did exactly that.

So the Trojan prince whirled around to face the son of Peleus.

They had a short dispute. Hektor entreated his opponent to agree, that the loser be returned to his people to receive a proper burial.

But Akhilleus refused: “FUCK YOUR PROPOSAL! YOU WILL PAY FOR THE DEATH OF PATROKLOS AND ALL OF MY FRIENDS WHOM YOU KILLED!!!”

“OH SHUT UP, ARSEHOLE! YOU AND YOUR COMRADES KILLED MOST OF MY FAMILY AND FRIENDS TOO! AND ONCE YOU TAKE OVER OUR CITY, YOU WILL RAVAGE IT, MASSACRE THE CIVILIANS, VIOLATE AND ENSLAVE OUR WOMEN AND KILL OUR CHILDREN!!! I AM DOING WHATEVER I CAN TO PROTECT THEM!!! YOU DON'T GET TO JUDGE ME!!!”, Hektor roared in outrage.⁵

Then they threw their spears at each other.

Hektor dodged that of Akhilleus, but his own weapon flew far off, guided by Athena's hand. When he turned to whom he had thought to be his dear brother to ask for a new spear, but found him gone.

The Trojan prince realised, that he had been tricked by Athena and that the gods had decided his doom a long time ago.

“Well, fuck this shit”, he muttered, pulled his sword to face his last battle.

Their fight was short and brutal.

At long last, Akhilleus managed to stab him in the throat.

But he had narrowly missed the windpipe and so Hektor was able to rattle a few last words.

“If you have … an ounce of honour … return my corpse … to my parents … so I can be buried.”

“No.”

“Thought as much … but know this … you're – ugh! – angering the gods … you will die … by Apollon's and Paris' arrows …”

Then the greatest defender of Troy died.

For a while Akhilleus stood silently above him.

Then he finally replied to the dead man: “I know. And I don't care.”

And proceeded to outrage his vanquished enemy's corpse by tying it to his chariot and dragging it around his city several times.

While on the walls above, his grieving parents, his sorrow-stricken wife Andromákhe and the people of Troy were weeping to the Heavens.

Book Twenty-Three:

Akhilleus held funeral games for Patroklos and, after much more mourning, finally delivered him to the pyre.

Hektor's dishonoured corpse on the other hand he left to the dogs.

The dogs that would not go near it; the presence of the goddess Aphrodite, who guarded it night and day, kept them away. She and Apollon preserved his corpse, so that neither the scorching sun, nor being hauled around by Akhilleus could damage it.

The burned remains of Patroklos were put to rest in a golden urn – one that his ghost had asked Akhilleus to put them in and mix them with his own, once the son of Thetis would die.

Book Twenty-Four:

All the while Apollon had protected Hektor's corpse from being mutilated, while Akhilleus didn't stop treating it like that of a common criminal.

Day after day he and the other gods who were supporting Troy begged Zeus to send Hermes to steal away the body. And every time Poseidon, Hera and Athena had been against it, unyielding in their old grudges.

After a week, the god of light finally had enough.

“How much longer”, he confronted the other gods, “do you want to allow Akhilleus to abuse the body of Hektor in such a foul manner?! Does none of you have a heart?! Has he ever failed to give you the best possible sacrifices?! Instead of returned his body to his people to receive the funeral he deserves, you choose being butt-hurt about the stupidity of that wuss Paris and that's why you help that sociopath Akhilleus, who doesn't have an ounce of propriety, shame or even respect in his chest! Many others are mourning their loved ones and he acts like he's the only one! As honourable as his parents are, they failed to raise a decent human being!“

Hera jumped up and pointed a finger at him: “Stop going on about Hektor, like he has ever been Akhilleus' equal! One was only a full mortal, while the other is the son of Thetis, whom I raised and married to Peleus, who we all were fond of!”

“That doesn't change the fact, that Akhilleus is a fucking arsehole!”, Apollon snapped.

“Or that he wouldn't know honour, if it spat in his face!”, Artemis agreed.

“Or that he's a whiny mother's boy”, Ares added.

Hera flushed with rage. “How dare you!”, she exclaimed, “All of you have been at the wedding of his parents! You ate, drank, danced and made music-”

“So?”, Ares said coldly, “Akhilleus is not his parents. We are not obliged to him, nor to Thetis and Peleus and definitely not to you. Hektor respected us gods and other humans more than he does.”

Hera's eyes narrowed. “That's it! I will-”

“ENOUGH!!!”, Zeus thundered and everyone fell silent.

Angrily he turned to Hera: “I've had enough of your attitude! No one here is putting Hektor and Akhilleus on the same level! And all things considered, Hektor was beloved by us. He always knew what kind of sacrifices I and all of you wished for, never failed to honour us and only gave us the best of the best. Still, stealing the body is not an option either. Bring me Thetis. She shall persuade her son to give Hektor's body up to his father.”

After Thetis had been welcomed by the gods, Zeus cut to the chase: “Let your son know, that we're angered by his behaviour. He is to return the body of Hektor to the Trojans for ransom – this is my will. He knows what happens to mortals, who do not follow it.”

Thetis nodded and returned to her son to inform him of Zeus' decree.

Later that evening Iris descended to the earth again, this time to tell Priamos, that Zeus was doing him one last favour: the returning of his son's body.

So Priamos packed rich gifts as ransom and went, but not before making a sacrifice of Zeus and venting his bitterness about how the cruelty of Ares had robbed and would keep robbing him of his loved ones.

As Zeus saw the elderly man and his aged herald cross the bloodstained plain in the darkness, he was overcome by pity. He waved Hermes over and fondly ruffled the messenger's hair.

The second youngest Olympian endured it, as always.

“My beloved son, who holds mankind dearest, guides them and listens to them. Go and escort Priamos to the Achaean ships, but make sure that no one sees him, before he stands in front of the son of Peleus.”

Hermes put on his winged sandals and staff and landed on the coast near the ships in the guise of a young soldier from Akhilleus' troops. With his staff, he lulled the Achaeans to sleep, before going to find Priamos.

As he came into the king's field of view, he could tell that the old man was frightened.

But Hermes gently took the old man's hands and asked kindly: “Who are you, sir? What are you and your companion there doing out here in the middle of the night and with so much treasure? Don't you know how dangerous that is?”

“You're right, young man”, Priamos replied, “But one god must have at least some mercy with me. It must be a good omen, that we meet you here; I can see your wisdom as well as your beauty – you must have blessed parents.”

That I do, Hermes thought fondly, but kept his focus.

“That's true. But do answer my question. Are you trying to hide them, or are you all fleeing your city in panic, because you lost your best fighter – your son Hektor, the greatest of your warriors?”

Priamos tilted his head. “How do you know about my son? Who are you?”

“One of the soldiers of Akhilleus”, Hermes fibbed, “I often saw your son on the field of glory, even when we weren't allowed to fight, because our lord wouldn't let us.”

“Really!”, the king cried hopefully, “Tell me, what happened to my son's body? Is it still intact at the ships? Akhilleus didn't … he didn't … did he …?”

“It's still intact”, the Messenger soothed him. “Nothing of the outrage it suffered by Akhilleus could damage it – if it wasn't for the wounds, one could think he's sleeping! The gods care for him even in death.”

He couldn't help but feel horrible for the sorrow-stricken old man, who nearly burst into tears at these news and who really deserved better than all this woe.

Deciding to make it quick, before the mortal's suffering could get to him, Hermes guided Priamos to Akhilleus' tent.

Once there, he revealed himself: “Now I can tell you, that I am the god Hermes. My father sent me to guide and protect you. I must stay outside, because I don't want the trouble of being seen. But listen to me: when you go in there, clasp the knees of Peleus' son and beseech him in the name of his own dear parents, if you want him to hear you.”

Akhilleus gaped in amazement, as none other than Priamos came before him.

The long-suffering king of Troy fell onto his knees in front of his greatest enemy, clasping the knees and kissing the hands of the man, who had slain his children.

After reminding him of his father Peleus, who was waiting for his son to come home, Priamos ended his plea: “Fifty sons I had, before you Achaeans came and I got to keep none of them! Most were felled by cruel Ares. And the one son I could count on, the defender of my city and its inhabitants – oh Hektor, my child! – fell by your hand. I'm here to ransom him with rich gifts. Respect the gods and think of your father. Even more than him I have a right to your mercy, because I did what no other father in the world could ever bring himself to do: I kissed the hand of the man who murdered my son.”

The sight of this old man's infinite grief and the memory of his own father, who too would never see him again, did something to Akhilleus.

There was no more wrath in him, only sadness and grief.

That and something new.

Something he had never felt before: Compassion.

Hektor's body was ransomed and returned to his people.

Even on Olympos the gods could hear the crying of the Trojans for their prince.

The people, who mourned their greatest hero.

His parents, who lost their dearest son.

His remaining siblings, who lost the brother they had looked up to.

His widow, who hadn't been able to be at her husband's side, while he was dying.

Helena, who had been taken here against her will and was now mourning the only man besides Priamos, who had treated her with kindness, the only friend she'd had here.

The Trojans keened and bewailed Hektor for ten days.

On the eleventh day he was brought to the pyre.

The smoke rose high and with it carried prayers and weeping.

---

1) Naiades: river nymphs; Dryades: tree nymphs.

2) Astrapaios: "Lord of Lightning", one of Zeus' epithets.

3) Ennosigaios: "Shaker of the Earth", one of Poseidon's epithets.

4) The surface of the sun is appr. 5000°C hot.

5) In the Iliad Hektor doesn't actually respond to Akhilleus' refusal like that, but I thought that this was important to point out.

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