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astaroth1357 · 4 years

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Demigod MC Series: Nyx

Nyx is a primordial goddess and the Greek personification of Night - the mother of Hypnos, Thanatos, Nemesis, and many more. She's a mysterious figure in their mythos as there's little surviving info about her cult. What is known, however, is that she was portrayed as beautiful, powerful, and feared by Zeus himself.

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus, Demeter, Athena, Hades Pt. 2, Poseidon, Ares, Hestia, Nyx

Lucifer

What happens when you take a being born from the darkness and place them in a realm of eternal night…?

The answer came when the MC first stepped out of the portal. Everyone in the room was wholly expecting a normal-looking, confused human they could get up to speed, however…

The MC's skin suddenly darkened until it was as black as a shadow, their clothes levitated around them as if they were defying gravity, and glimmering speckles dotted their skin like twinkling stars.

Even their eyes turned a pure, glowing white without irises or pupils… Like two crowning stars locked into a body made from the shimmering night sky...

They weren't human. At the time, Lucifer wasn't even sure he could say what they were... Breathtaking, certainly, but there was something else about them that he couldn't place… something… foreboding...

Diavolo must have had the same unease because Barbatos was put in charge of monitoring them. The butler would send reports to them both and the results would range from benign to nerve-racking...

They kept their distance from his brothers and most people, but their power seemed immense... Barbs would report seeing them making small items float or summoning a meteor shower from their fingertips!

Lucifer ended up actually tasting their powers only once. When they stepped in to protect Beel and Luke and he went to attack them…

The whole House began to shake and the candles of the tomb started going out one by one as the air grew intolerably heavy... He could have sworn he saw a vortex of… something... swirling at their feet...

He backed off immediately and Beel and Luke got off with a warning, mostly because he was trying not to look utterly petrified...

He's never met a more beautiful and dangerous creature in his life… Pact mark or no, this is probably the only person the firstborn will admit he never wants to have to fight because he'd lose, big time.

Mammon

He was expecting to find a human when he walked into the Student Council room, not an alien!!

Mammon was seriously scared of the MC when they first met because he legitimately believed they were an extraterrestrial sent to probe him!!... Or whatever else those scary movies say aliens do, lay eggs in his stomach?

He straight up avoided them like the plague until the Goldie incident more or less bound them together. But even then there was a distance between them he just couldn't place…

Naturally, it bothers a demon a bit if their master doesn't seem to like them, so he eventually cornered them one day to force them to tell him why they'd been running off!

As it turned out, the MC actually knew as little about their new form everybody else! They had been perfectly normal in the human world, but for some reason the Devildom supercharged them! They could tell that they were powerful, but had no idea how to control themselves yet and it scared them...

So Mammon became their first unofficial "coach." Not that he knew how to train them or anything, but he was the first person supportive enough to even try to help them learn their new powers.

It led to some… interesting misadventures. Like when the MC unexpectedly burst every water pipe in the House or when they got a little too frustrated and ripped the kitchen apart with an accidental twister, but hey, Mammon was always there for them at least.

Of course, because he's who he is, he's not above asking the MC to help him with his schemes for "training purposes…" Infiltration is more fun if you're weightless, after all!

Speaking of weightless… His favorite way to float is when the MC gets excited and hugs him. They can't help but levitate them both off the ground when they're that happy and it makes the whole hug that much sweeter.

Leviathan

It's… it's like he's in his very own Magical Girl anime!!! Uh, "I'm a Demon and this is My New Life with a Magic Starchild!!"-or something like that. 🤷‍♀️

He didn't even think their transformation was real when he first saw it! He really thought it was an elaborate body art cosplay but then their "freckles" rearranged themselves when he frightened them, so it had to be real!!

He'll declare that they're probably (literally) the coolest thing on the planet. They have the looks of an epic fantasy character plus insane powers to boot!

…though uh… they may need a training arc or two to learn how to control them… 😅

Since their powers are apparently tied to their emotions, Levi's seen them do a whole bunch of stuff that's not entirely on purpose... Like, they can make things float when they're happy and push everything down when they're sad.

So once he showed them one of those "tragic ending" animes for fun, but they cried so hard that they increased gravity and accidentally sent his bathtub crashing into the basement…

The worst of it is when they're mad, though. He made the mistake of making them play a rage game once and they ended up shattering all the glass in his room! His aquarium wall and Henry's fishtank included!!

They were able to make a zero G sphere of water in order to save Henry's life, but the cleanup was brutal… They were super sorry, but Levi took most of the blame himself anyway.

Honestly, he'd have been more mad but their body is clearly not something they can control just yet. Plus, it's so cool that he can put up with a little destruction anyway, you know?

Satan

Well, isn't that an interesting phenomenon?

Meeting a demigod is exciting enough, but one who reacted to the Devildom like that? It was pretty much unheard of!

Though he'd hate to admit it, Satan stalked the MC just as closely as Barbatos for a little while... But only because he was a little unsure of how to approach them…

They kept to themselves and their powers seemed "a little" unpredictable (see Levi's orphaned bathtub). Thankfully, Mammon ended up recommending the MC to him since Satan's one of the smartest guys around.

Satan made a better coach than Mammon, anyway. He was far more knowledgeable and actually able to hypothesize the strength their powers, which came in handy because uh… well…

Look. The whole realm 'ooohs' and 'ahhhs' over their appearance but they're all fools - no morons - for not noticing what potential the MC actually has. Satan was positive that the MC is the most powerful being in the Devildom, without question.

They had a complete control over gravity, atmospheric pressure, and even astronomical bodies… If they wanted to, they could literally pluck a planet out of orbit and send it careening into who knows what!

Want more terrifying? They could create near-matterless vacuums at the palms of their hands with the potential to suffocate, crush, or rip apart basically anything they wanted with implosive force….

Does he even need to spell out why that's utterly horrifying??

At least the MC seemed to be a genuinely nice person who wanted to control their powers better… Their emotions often got in the way but they tried their best.

He likes the MC a lot, but he'd be lying if he said that they didn’t also terrify him… They may have been pretty normal in the human world, but give them endless night and they may as well be a god...

Asmodeus

Oh… My… Father!!! They're GORGEOUS!!!!

From the moment their transformation completed, Asmo had never seen anything like them! He said that they were like a living droplet of the night sky!

They were magnificent!! They were radiant!!! He was posting pictures of them before they had even said their first sentence!!

So Asmo was pretty much patient zero for any and all rumors and hype about the MC after that... Apparently someone like them only visits the Devildom every one, maybe two, centuries so everybody was bound to get talking.

Thankfully, the MC's habit of ducking out of the House kept them from becoming a full on sideshow. Unfortunately, however, Asmodeus was relentless!

He'd beg them to try modeling or make videos with him because of their unique look! He'd lay on the praises, but it was a little... much. It wasn't until Mammon finally stepped that he backed off a bit.

Asmo sometimes forgets that not everyone puts as much emphasis on looks as he does... Though he meant well, he hadn't realized that the MC maybe wouldn't appreciate him making such a big deal out of their appearance change. Pretty as it was, it was still involuntary to them...

Of course, after they told him this he cooled off and stopped putting them out there so publicly but even still he could hardly keep his eyes off of them... unless he was looking in a mirror, of course. 😘

A fun fact about the MC: when they blush, their skin makes a pink nebula. And thanks to his antics, Asmo has seen their lively pink cheeks many, many times… 🤭

Beelzebub

Belphie would like them, wouldn't he...?

Beel's first reaction upon seeing the MC was genuine sadness, as seeing the stars with his twin brother still gone often brought him…

The sadness didn't last too long at least because Beel tried his best to see the MC more like a person than a work of art or an oddity. Sure, they looked different - like really different - but they still laughed, cried, and ate like everybody else so they couldn't be that different.

Though then again, most people don't end up floating in midair when they laugh… Eh, oh well. It's not like those little details bother him. 🤷‍♀️

He always remained certain that Belphie would like the MC so he told them a lot about him. Since his twin loved stargazing, it'd only be natural that he'd like someone who looked like the stars, right?

Aside from the occasional tangent about his brother, Beel would also help the MC with their training by letting them help him with his training!

Controlling gravity can be pretty nifty for strength/resistance exercises, so there would be days where Beel would just pull a Dragon Ball and walk around at 1.5 or 2 times Earth's gravity thanks to having the MC on his back!

Sure, lifting a glass of milk becane so difficult that he literally broke a sweat from trying, but he felt like he can juggle motorcycles afterwards so who's complaining? Not him!

Belphegor

……

………….

Was it some kind of joke?

The MC was not human. There was no way in heaven or hell that whatever he lured to the attic was supposed to be a human!!

Really, everything about the MC and their situation seemed directly designed to throw a monkey wrench into his plans...

One: They weren't human so how was he supposed to ruin Diavolo's dream? Two: They were clearly some kind of magical being so they could likely defend themselves…

But third ans most embarrassing of all... he honestly, genuinely, has never seen a more amazing person in his life. Blame it on his soft spot for the stars, but the moment the MC step up to his prison bars, he was smitten...

And. He. HATED IT!

Look, as much as he loved the night sky, he wasn't about to let some random non-human derail his anger! He was stronger than that!

He managed to hold onto his bitterness just long enough to make a halfhearted attempt on their life after they got the door open, but uh…

His brothers found Belphie when he fell through a newly-made hole in the ceiling... Said hole was made when his body slammed to the ground hard enough to crash through the attic floor... 😣

If the damage they caused wasn't enough to change his mind (which it was), then their distress when they thought they might have hurt him certainly did. Even their tears looked like stardust...

After far too long, Belphie got over his denial and began to properly love MC. If he liked stargazing before, he adored it now because he never even has to get out of bed! He can just roll over and follow the "stars" on the MC's body!

Unfortunately, that same love means it also takes a lot to ditch him if they get sick of being his personal night's sky… The brothers have found him floated up and sleeping on the ceiling on numerous occasions so the mortal can get some fresh air (clever MC)...

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me demigods

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peggy-sue-reads-a-book · 2 years

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Day 2

This is a question I have had for while. What are your feeling on all the olympians? Like all of them. Thanks if you answer lol(can’t believe I even remembered 2 days)

Oh wow, ok, I’m excited about this question and will do my best. Been thinking about it all day. I’m going with feel as the operative word. I am not a Hellenic polytheist (I am a Christian; anyone can ask me about this☺️) but the gods are real and dear to me as part of humanity, so yes, I have feelings. In a way, your ask is as much about me as it is about the gods. So you’ll get my completely personal take. I will not give you subversive fan theories or analyses on why they are problematic. I’m also a synesthete, so bare with me; my sensory process is what it is.

Zeus — I feel like we’d date. A friend of mine told me that he reads my fanfiction but his powers enable him to watch it like a telenovela. He’s a warm, gregarious energy to me. I live for silly Zeus memes but I think what we all miss is how likeable he is. Large and scary on the outside, but full of wonder at his core. He’s the visionary behind Olympus after all. He’s a swan, a glittering shower, he wants thrones for all his kids, crowns for his brothers and sisters. My favorite myths include just how much he delights in his kids. Like when Artemis and Apollo are born and he’s just like here, have the sun, have the forests. Or when he rescues little Dionysus by putting him in his own body until he’s done growing. I think his presence would feel so alive you wouldn’t really care who he was or what nonsense he’d been up to.

Poseidon - ya know, he’s a mysterious dude. He’s moody, a little weird. Thinking of him makes me imagine my fears of the bottom of the ocean. Of the kraken, of trenches, places with no light and freaky pressure changes. Almost like he’s specifically the lord of the deep. Of any god, I’m most afraid of him. (Feel free to psychoanalyze in the comments) Also I imagine him as a hunky merman. I picture him in deep greens. I think of that folk song full fathom five. Choleric. Hard to please. A sense of weariness.

Hera — I think we oversimplify her rage. I see her in bright golds. Fresh smells, peaches, a crisp essence. She’s glamorous, a leader. But has battled her insecurities hard. There’s a frustration and anxiety close to her surface. And I’m not so sure her issues are really with Zeus. I feel like there’s a deep wound there from the titan war and perhaps Zeus has great compassion for it. Rosalie Hale and Amy March are both strong Heras to me. Daenerys Targaryen is a Hera. Hera is the feminine form of hero, by the way. Somehow it’s been lost as a noun, which is a shame.

Demeter — I picture Demeter as my sister, who, by the way, is lovely. It just fits too well. She’s a gentle, sensual woman. She enjoys food, dancing, comforts. Of any gods, I would want her on my side. A better ending to the Judgement of Paris is that Demeter divided the apple evenly and served it with humus and peanut butter. The koine suffix meter means mother. Demeter is a giver, she’s the full moon, the mom friend, the feeling when your s/o makes your lunch or kisses your head at night.

Hestia — heckin sweet. She and Zeus are the closest of the siblings. You go domestic ace-spec girl. Like I bet she’s just so pretty and kind. See previous headcanon posts.

Ares — everyone who’s been here knows how I feel about Ares. I can’t resist finding one single nugget of lovability and letting it take over. He’s Zeus and Hera’s most difficult traits all in one guy. He’s intense and moody like Zeus but with the anxiety and insecurity of Hera. He’s angsty, kinda tortured. I think he’s often taken for granted as the “strong one.” He holds a lot inside in order to be there for others. I think he supported Hera beyond what he was ready for as a little boy.

Hephaestus — Blacksmiths are cut. Have you met a blacksmith before? Lemme tell you, I’m a huge horse person and I have. They come in with their their truck and their strong arms and they pick up those little horsie feet and it’s everything. And that sad backstory of being raised in a cave? Please. You want Hephaestus.

Athena — She intimidates me. She’s not one I identify with much and sometimes have a hard time with. I have felt in the shadow of “Athena” type women. To me she’s that cousin who’s in med school or law school or literally just passing third grade math. A golden child. Homer calls her “a stately dame … graced with all the noble gifts of womanhood” in song 16 of the Odyssey. Which sounds great and maybe it is. But the irony of perfection is it’s never really what what we find most beautiful is it? We never romanticize precision.

Apollo — oh, buddy. I love you. Somehow the god of order and reason and also the biggest himbo of all. Still in therapy from both his lovers turning into plants. He’s so pretty and so brilliant but he’s the god of song. Apollo is #sadgirl through and through. Somehow a melancholic, a genius, and an innocent all in one. Spencer Reid vibes, definitely. He makes me nostalgic for something I can’t quite reach.

Ya know what, someone ask me about just Apollo sometime. I wrote loads of fiction about him in 8th grade and I had a dog named Apollo. I really miss that dog.

Artemis — There’s a kind of prickly charisma to Artemis. And culturally, she’s beloved. Katniss is Artemis. So is Scout Finch. I love that the Greeks gave us an all girl mashup of Peter Pan x Where the Wild Things Are x Moonrise Kingdom. Yet, she gives me a little sense of melancholy too. Sexuality aside, she made a fascinating choice when she vowed eternal girlhood, celibacy, and to never become a mother. She chose autonomy over intimacy. She chose innocence over heartbreak. I wonder if she ever sorrows for the road not taken. Even an immortal life is only one life. And yet, I want her to be free. I would lose my shit if she ever for one second knew grief or regret or even jealousy. It would crush me for romance to displace her friendships. I hope she’s just perfectly 100% happy. She means a lot to me.

Hermes— what a mysterious dude. Honestly, I’m not sure what even to do with him. He’s … detached. Like just kind of a stinky guy in stinky rafting sandals. Paradoxically he looks the most human, would seem to be v cool towards humans, and yet is just as magical and strange as can be. I’m pretty sure I literally saw him in Asheville. @heljos , he’s special to you, speak of Hermes sometime.

Aphrodite— above all, Aphrodite is hopeful. My favorite epithets for her are “laughter-loving” and “foam-walker.” Even the specific wording of “mother of desire” as opposed to “lust” or “love.” There’s all kinds of things you can desire. Fun, humor, joy, health, self-acceptance, friendship. Aphrodite and Dionysus are the Pippin and Merry of Olympus. But as a Artemis’ opposite, I think there’s a part of her that grieves her freedom. To be the goddess of beauty and love means being defined by perception and relationships. That’s why I give her such a distinct personality when I write about her. I bet more than anything she wants identity. *follow or ask me for more on this.

Things that have the same energy: Dionysus and Tom Haverford.

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fruitcoops · 4 years

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Hey I was wondering if you could write something kinda angsty but with a pretty ending with the cubs, I’m trynna project getting stood up and turning it into something nice and good, even if it’s just in my head. No pressure but I just wanna smile for a bit and your work always makes me do so :)))

Hello lovely! I’m so sorry that you were stood up--that feels awful and whoever did it missed out on a wonderful person. I’ve combined this with some other asks in the same vein (y’all wanted my boys to hurt) so I hope you don’t mind. Sending love and hugs your way! Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove <3

1. Bad mental health day for Finn + pushing himself too hard + passing out (ft. Bee anon!)

2. O’Knutzy boiling over with a fluffy ending

3. Insecure Leo

TW for internalized guilt, vaguely implied self-harm (pushing himself too hard at practice), and relationship arguments

Finn had a few bad habits. He left dirty dishes in the sink, could never remember which setting the laundry was supposed to go on, and barely wiped his shoes on the doormat before entering the house. He wasn’t proud of his flaws, but he acknowledged that everyone had some—as long as they didn’t hurt anybody, it wasn’t the end of the world.

This one…this one was different. Even Finn knew that.

He gritted his teeth for the next set of squats, ignoring the ringing in his ears and the climbing nausea in his gut. The chart only said to do three reps, but he had been beating himself up for slacking a set earlier in the week and decided to do five to make up for it.

That, it seemed, was a poor decision.

His thighs were shaking when he finally put the weight down and he leaned on the wall to stabilize himself. “Fish? You okay?” Logan asked from the yoga mat to his right, staring up at him in concern.

“I’m fine,” Finn lied. “Just straightened up too fast.”

“D’accord.” He could feel Logan’s eyes on his back as he left the gym and headed toward the showers.

Finn’s worst habit was taking care of himself, and it wasn’t something that could be explained away as “oh, silly Harzy” like the washing machine. He made a mental note to take some ibuprofen before driving home so he would be marginally less sore in the morning, but he had the sinking feeling it would be a rough practice the next day.

Remus and Talker were playing some sort of volleyball with an old balloon between their stalls when he entered; he missed getting nailed in the head by a narrow margin and waved off their apologies with a forced smile.

A hand closed around his bicep as he passed, snapping him back to reality as Leo’s bright eyes came into focus. “Hey, lovey, is Lo with you?”

“He’s finishing up.”

A small furrow appeared between Leo’s brows. “Is something wrong?”

“Nope.” Finn faked a yawn and stretched his arm over Leo’s shoulder, dragging him down for a kiss on the cheek. “Cap’s workout just kicked my ass today.”

“That’s what they’re supposed to do,” Sirius said, rolling his eyes playfully as he passed. “You’re not a rookie anymore, O’Hara.”

“Yeah, yeah, alright.”

Logan entered the locker room a few minutes later; Finn closed his eyes and breathed in the thick steam of the shower until the fog in his head cleared a bit and he couldn’t feel the skin on his shoulders. It billowed off him as he dressed again and tossed the keys to Leo, who raised his eyebrows. “Me?”

“You. There’s a little bit of slush left, and you still need to learn how to drive in it.” And I feel like I’m going to pass out at any minute. He swallowed down the last thought and pasted a teasing grin on his face—what Leo and Logan didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. It was his own fault for being lazy in the past.

-----------------------

What Leo and Logan didn’t know apparently did hurt them. In hindsight, Finn should have seen that coming before he passed out in the middle of a scrimmage.

The lights of the coach’s office made his headache even worse. “Care to explain?” Arthur asked in a voice like frost. To his left, Sirius was glowering.

“I already told Hestia—”

“Yeah, I know what you told Hestia,” Arthur interrupted. “I want to hear it directly from you.”

Finn sighed through his nose and picked at a stray thread on his jersey. “I…I pushed myself a little too hard at yesterday’s practice and didn’t say anything when I started feeling bad.”

“Why.” Sirius’ eyes were hard as flint.

“Because I didn’t want to be a pain in the ass! I can handle some aching muscles, it’s not a big deal!”

“Not a—”

Arthur put his hand on Sirius’ shoulder. “That’s enough, Black. O’Hara, I want you to look me in the eyes.” Finn raised his head. “This was a dumbass mistake and all of us expected better from you. Your safety and health come before any workout routine, and it is your responsibility to speak up before you scare the shit out of us by dropping like a rock.”

“I’m sorry, Coach.”

“Apology accepted. I also want you to call Heather when you get home and schedule an appointment with her.” Some of Arthur’s frustration melted into genuine concern and guilt crawled up Finn’s throat. “Doing that to yourself isn’t healthy, Finn. You’re a good man, smart, and I know you know better.”

“Can we talk for a second?” Sirius asked quietly, glancing at Arthur. He nodded and left the room.

“I’m sorry.”

“What the fuck, Finn?” Sirius ran a hand down his face, suddenly pale. “What the fuck was that?”

“It was stupid.”

“Yeah, no, I got that part.”

“I slacked off a set on Monday.”

“Wow, nobody’s ever done that before,” he said sarcastically, sitting down in the chair by the wall as Finn resumed messing with his hem. “You scared the hell out of all of us.”

“I know.”

“You know I’m not mad at you, right? I’m upset that you thought you had to do that at all.”

Tears prickled the backs of Finn’s eyes. “I know.”

“I’m sure as hell not your coach or your dad, but I’m going to say this as your friend, okay?” Sirius leaned over into Finn’s field of view. “Whatever you need, I’m here for you. This team wouldn’t be the same without you. I wouldn’t be the same without you. We need you to take care of yourself, Harzy.”

Finn nodded silently and Sirius gave his hand a quick squeeze, which he returned. “Does everyone know?”

“I told them you were under the weather, nothing more.”

“Classic media answer.” He tried and failed to crack a smile. “Thanks for not telling on me.”

“That’s not my job. My job is herding cats on ice skates for five hours a day.”

Finn’s smile was real that time and he managed a light laugh as he swiped away the dampness on his cheeks. “Love you, man.”

“Love you, too.” Sirius helped him stand up and hugged him tight for a second before letting go. “Speaking as someone who used to do the exact same thing, talking to Heather makes a world of difference.”

“I’ll give her a call.”

The cold feeling returned to Finn’s gut when they stepped out of the office; Leo and Logan were waiting by the opposite wall, looking angrier than Finn had ever seen. Sirius patted his shoulder once before walking off down the hallway toward the locker room, where he would no doubt deflect even more questions.

“Hey,” Finn said, barely above a whisper. Logan continued to stare at the ground.

“You lied to us,” Leo said bluntly. “Several times. Both of us asked if you were alright and you told us you were fine.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I accept your apology, but I don’t understand.” He ran a hand through his hair with a sigh. “Finn, this isn’t how we deal with things. We agreed to be a team.”

Finn bit his lip. I fucked this one up. “We did. I am so sorry for scaring you—”

“We’re not mad that you scared us,” Logan snapped, still looking anywhere but his face. “We’re upset that you refuse to take care of yourself and then lied to us about it.”

Leo nudged Logan’s shoulder before turning back. “Why did you do that, Finn?”

“I didn’t want to fall behind. I was just trying to make up for the set I skipped on Monday.”

“What? Twenty squats and some pushups? That’s not worth your health, honey.” The pet name soothed the terror clutching Finn’s heart and he took a deep breath. They still loved him. This wasn’t the end.

“It was a stupid thing to do and it won’t happen again.”

“Good. Let’s go home.” Logan grabbed his duffel bag off the ground and started walking toward the door; Leo looked like he was going to say something, but Finn gently took his elbow.

“He’s going to need a minute,” he said under his breath. Logan was a hothead about many things, but lying was in the top three. Finn knew he hurt him deep.

“Did you…” Leo trailed off and pressed his lips together as they followed Logan into the parking lot. “Did you feel like you couldn’t tell me?”

Finn shook his head. “No. This was all on me.”

“It’s just that I know I’m younger than both of you and I’m new to the hockey lifestyle, but I never want you to think you can’t trust me—”

“Leo.” Finn stopped walking and tugged on Leo’s hand, turning him around. Worry was painted all over his face and it sliced to Finn’s core. “I trust you and Logan with everything, but I got into my head about this and I wasn’t thinking about how it would hurt you. Please believe that.”

Leo sighed. “I do. I just don’t get it.”

“Neither do I, to be honest.” Logan was already sitting in the car with his headphones on as they crossed the lot. “It’s going to take him a while to talk to me, isn’t it?”

“He was really upset.”

“We’ll figure this out.” He tightened his grip on Leo’s hand. “We’ve made it through worse.”

-----------------------------

The apartment crackled with tension until Finn literally had to stick his head out the open window to get a breath of fresh air. Waves of frustration and hurt rolled off Logan, though he still refused to look Finn in the eyes.

After dinner, Leo slid into the armchair before Logan could get there, leaving only the couch available. They carefully sat on opposite sides—Finn stole glances at Logan out of the corner of his eye for the entire first half of the movie. Ninety minutes of action later, he felt something chilly poking at his calf.

Logan kept his gaze trained on the TV as he scooted his freezing toes under Finn’s legs. Relief flooded Finn’s veins; he felt a little like crying, but instead schooled his expression into a small smile and rested his hand on Logan’s ankle, where it stayed until the movie ended.

Leo had fallen asleep by that time, splayed out sideways on the cushion with his face smushed against the armrest. “Il est mignon,” Logan said softly. There was a beat of silence and he looked over at Finn. “He’s cute.”

“He is.” Finn cleared his throat and met his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Lo. I never meant to hurt you, but I did, and I’m sorry.”

“Promise me you won’t do that again.”

“I won’t.”

Finn had a few bad habits, but backing out on his promises would never be one of them.

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inc0rrectmyths · 3 years

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𝗦𝗖𝗘𝗡𝗔𝗥𝗜𝗢

𝐀 𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐇𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚 -

Chapter 1

𝗔𝗽𝗼𝗹𝗹𝗼: *hits a high note while singing*

𝗛𝘆𝗮𝗰𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗵𝘂𝘀: oh holy shit!!

𝗔𝗽𝗼𝗹𝗹𝗼: *blushes*

𝗔𝗽𝗼𝗹𝗹𝗼: *realizes what Hyacinthus said*

𝗔𝗽𝗼𝗹𝗹𝗼: HYACINTHUS WHY DID YOU SAY THE BAD WORD!! WHO TAUGHT YOU THAT!?

𝗛𝘆𝗮𝗰𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗵𝘂𝘀: *pouts*

𝗔𝗽𝗼𝗹𝗹𝗼: *looks at Ares*

𝗔𝗿𝗲𝘀: *cleaning his sword* *notices Apollo staring* Look I know I curse a lot. But I'm never around so he didn't learn that from me ok!? And also what's his name again? Hiatus?

𝗔𝗽𝗼𝗹𝗹𝗼: *glares* It's Hyacinthus! *huffs*

𝗔𝗽𝗼𝗹𝗹𝗼: *looks at Hermes* It HAS to be you!

𝗛𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗲𝘀: Bro I'm a forever pure boy, I don't curse *gets a message from Hecate that she cancelled their date*

𝗛𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗲𝘀: WTF! Why would you cancel our date!?

𝗔𝗽𝗼𝗹𝗹𝗼: *gasps* LOOK! I knew it was you! You taught my sweet innocent Hyacinthus bad words.

𝗗𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘆𝘀𝘂𝘀: *been drunk for hours and was randomly blabbering curse word* Aight! I'mma head out!

𝗛𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗲𝘀: I DIDN'T

𝗔𝗽𝗼𝗹𝗹𝗼: YOU DID

*few thousand years later*

𝗛𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗲𝘀: I DIDN'T

𝗔𝗽𝗼𝗹𝗹𝗼: YOU DID

𝗛𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗮: oh! What's happening kids?

𝗔𝗽𝗼𝗹𝗹𝗼: aunt Hestia, Hermes taught bad words to my sweet innocent Hyacinthus.. *makes a sad face*

𝗛𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗮: Hyacinthus, look child. I know when you are really upset or angry or excited, curse words tend to leave our mouth. But we should never say them cuz they are extremely bad and we should never curse ok? *smiles*

𝗛𝘆𝗮𝗰𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗵𝘂𝘀: *giggles* okie dokie!

𝗛𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗮: Now! Kids! Look at this dress I'm gonna wear to the party Demeter is hosting! *shows her fancy dress*

𝗘𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝗼𝗻𝗲: Wow!!

𝗛𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗲𝘀: *mistakenly drops a glass of wine and few drops get splashed on Hestia's dress*

𝗛𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗮: WTF! HERMES YOU SON OF A BIT-

𝗔𝗽𝗼𝗹𝗹𝗼: *closes Hyacinthus' ears*

𝗛𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗲𝘀: *gasps*

𝗔𝗿𝗲𝘀: *coughs violently*

𝗗𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘆𝘀𝘂𝘀: I have a new found respect for my aunt.. *chugs another glass of wine*

𝗛𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗮: I'm sorry! *sobs and runs away*

𝗛𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗲𝘀: she just cursed..

𝗛𝗲𝗯𝗲: Honestly it's kinda ok. She is the only normal and responsible person in this whole family. She has so much pressure on her.

𝗔𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗻𝗮: I know right. Thats why she always stays calm. But when she is really frustrated she starts baking cookies. And turns it into competitiveness when her and aunt Demeter has bake offs. But just like today, whenever she does something slightly wrong which isn't wrong at all but it is wrong for her, she goes home with a broken heart and bakes twice as many cookies. It's a problem we both are trying to fix.

𝗔𝗽𝗼𝗹𝗹𝗼: *eating the cookies* That explains why she always carries cookies.

𝗔𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗺𝗶𝘀: Guys I think we all should thank Hestia for being the person who brings our family together. *smiles widely*

𝗔𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗻𝗮: YES! Ares and I aren't having any warfare to discuss, so we both can join!

𝗔𝗿𝗲𝘀: Yep! *smiles to himself*

𝗛𝗲𝗽𝗵𝗮𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘂𝘀: *shimmers in front of them* I am done with making weapons. I'mma join y'all too!

𝗔𝗽𝗵𝗿𝗼𝗱𝗶𝘁𝗲: Since I'm done reading all my fairy tales, I have time to chime in.

𝗛𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗲𝘀: I am not having any place to go today, so I'mma join yey!

𝗔𝗽𝗼𝗹𝗹𝗼, 𝗗𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘆𝘀𝘂𝘀, 𝗛𝗲𝗯𝗲: US TOO!

𝗭𝗲𝘂𝘀, 𝗣𝗼𝘀𝗲𝗶𝗱𝗼𝗻, 𝗗𝗲𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿: *shimmer into existence* We heard that y'all have planned something for Hestia? Well we shall join.

𝗛𝗲𝗿𝗮: *sighs with a smile* And I'm ready to put my anger aside for a while and do something good for my sis Hestia!

𝗛𝗮𝗱𝗲𝘀, 𝗣𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗲𝗽𝗵𝗼𝗻𝗲, 𝗛𝗲𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗲: *emerges from the darkness* Don't forget us!

*And that's how the whole Olympus kept aside their differences and got together to do something special for the best Hestia*

𝗔𝗿𝗲𝘀: *knocks on Hestia's door* It's me Ares!

𝗛𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗮: oh hey dear!

𝗔𝗿𝗲𝘀: *grabs Hestia and puts her into a bag and takes her to Apollo and Artemis' room where everything was prepared*

𝗔𝗿𝗲𝘀: *drops the bag and helps Hestia get out*

*Hestia wasn't happy at all*

𝗛𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗮: Ares! What kind of behavior is this!?

𝗔𝗿𝗲𝘀: Look there!

𝗛𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗮: *looks at the way Ares pointed and gasps* This is a huge chocolate chip cookie!

*Everyone jumps from behind the cookie*

𝗘𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝗼𝗻𝗲: SURPRISE!

𝗛𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗮: *emotional* Guys you didn't had to do this..

𝗣𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗲𝗽𝗵𝗼𝗻𝗲: Of course we had too! You tolerate our shit so much, you deserve this aunt!

𝗛𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗮: *hugs everyone dearly*

𝗭𝗲𝘂𝘀: ok enough of chit chat! Let's dig in!

*Everyone ate the giant cookie greedily, it was absolutely delicious! *

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗼𝗻: *watching everything while sitting on his boat* *sobs* See Cerberus. They all are finally getting along.. *sobs again*

𝗖𝗲𝗿𝗯𝗲𝗿𝘂𝘀: *barks* *licks Charon's face out of happiness*

~ The End ~

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ssaltbending · 4 years

Text

Ok, guys, hear me out: Zuko is a Capricorn, Katara is a Cancer —and here’s why (it would be so poetic).

Part 1: Zuko

TW: explicit mentions of child abuse.

I know this statement might seem weird and out of place, but in the last couple weeks I’ve been digging a lot into astrology and, in order not to forget my roots, I thoroughly felt the need to combine both of my most recent obsessions in one post, given that this headcanon hasn’t been able to leave my mind ever since I came up with it: if we applied astrology to the Avatar world, I’m sure Cancer and Capricorn would be Katara and Zuko’s signs, respectively. And I don’t say this in a superficial way, just by looking at zodiac memes and associating Katara with the crybabies Cancers are portrayed as or saying Zuko is a Capricorn buzzkill as people who know astrology on a surface level would assume they are —those are some of the most common stereotypes about the signs. No, I’m saying that they embody those signs on an archetypal leve: in the way their stories, especially Zuko’s, resemble the myths that originate the zodiac signs and their respective traits.

Therefore, without further ado, let me explain.

The Capricorn archetype: the sins of the father...

As any casual astrology enthusiast may probably know, the sign of Capricorn is connected to qualities such as perseverance, integrity, resilience and ambition, typically treated as the CEO or boss of the zodiac. However, the sign itself has a richer and much more complex story as we look at the deities it is associated with as well as the planet that rules it: Saturn, linked to the Roman god of the same name and the greek gods Cronus, Zeus, Hestia and Pan. Some astrologers choose Cronus as Capricorn’s patron god and others prefer his children, but that can be explained very easily.

The myth goes like this: Cronus, a giant and father of what we would know as some of the main greek gods (Hestia, Demeter, Hades, Poseidon, Hera and Zeus), was actually the son of Uranos, who he subverted thanks to the advice of his mother Gaia to use an agricultural tool to kill him. But as time went by and Cronus had started having children with his partner, Rhea, the fear of his descendants becoming stronger than him and doing the same thing he had done to his father took over him, which led to his decision of swallowing them all whole. He started with Hestia all the way back to Zeus, whom he couldn’t swallow right after he was born, unlike his other children, because this time Rhea had hid him in the island of Crete to protect him from his father. To deceive him, Rhea then covered a rock in cloth to make it resemble a baby for Cronus to eat it, thinking that it was a newborn Zeus.

Time passed and Zeus grew stronger until he was ready to confront his father and save his siblings from his womb, and when he finally did it, he managed to force Cronus into disgorge them one by one, in the reverse order they had been swallowed —which left Hestia as the last sibling to be disgorged.

After that, Zeus was left with a prophecy, where he would also be possibly overthrown by a son of his. And after Métis, the woman he was told would bear said child, gave birth he swallowed the newborn whole just like Cronus had done with his brothers and sisters. The child in question, however, started giving him headaches as it grew older and bigger inside of him and would become the goddess we know as Athena. What Zeus did with her was the repetition of a cycle perpetuated by his forefathers, a cycle of abuse and trauma that seems inescapable. What this part of the duality of the Capricorn archetype shows one of the ways in which those ideas of tradition and legacy can be carried on (a very negative one, to be honest), but that’s not the only way they can manifest, which gives the archetype this… almost cinematic quality, in my opinion. (And if we take this into account, I might headcanon Azula as a Capricorn rising due not only to the archetypal coincidences but the overall mastermind outlook she has and how much of a natural, domineering and calculating leader she is, but that’s besides the point.)

Now, let’s talk about the other side of the archetype, which gives it this incredible dual quality: Hestia’s path. Unlike her brother Zeus, Hestia was the one who not only had been devoured by her father, but she had spent the most time inside him as well. This is often associated with the emotional isolation many Capricorns experience in their youth, the lack of warmth and love by one of their parents, along with the desire not to become the abusive parent they were exposed to. Hestia is the other side of the story, the unspoken leader of the Olympians, the one who broke the toxic cycle running in her family for generations, vowing to become an eternal virgin and protector of the earth. Besides, Hestia means “hearth”: the inner fire, the one that is never allowed to go out.

(art by @elisebrave)

That is the soul of the Capricorn archetype: the crossroads of destiny, the moment when the child decides whether to become like their parents, or forge their own path like Hestia did. Do you guys see what I see now? Are the similarities clear enough?

As my dear friend @persephobeee points out in her Capricorn essay (a crucial source for this one): “The Capricorn archetype is a cycle of stuck parents putting stress on their children at such a young age so then their kid ends up making money in retaliation, but then treat their kids the same as well due to the lack of warmth and freedom they had in their own childhood. The intense pressure put onto them as a child [then] leads to isolation and depression. It’s a cycle. ‘I don’t want to be my parent, but also… how they have ruined me’. The chain can continue with Zeus (projecting sorrows and nightmares onto their own children) or it could break with Hestia (the path of love, light and protection).”

This is why Capricorn’s planetary ruler, Saturn, is also associated with ideas found in this myth: restriction, limitation, order, boundaries, leadership, responsibility… pretty much dad vibes, to be honest. Do you guys see what I see or do I have to dig deeper?

“But isn’t zuko a firebender?? Why would he be an earth sign??”, you may ask.

The way that I might be making headcanons about the Gaang’s western zodiac signs isn’t gonna be based on which element they bend, because that would be quite reductive and restrictive for me as an astrology junkie, but their similarities to each sign’s archetype and overall characteristics. And yes, I do see Zuko as an earth sun, but that wouldn’t be his only sign, there is also the moon and the rising sign, which also have an important impact on the individual. In my opinion, Zuko’s personality embodies the qualities of fire signs as well: competitiveness, drive, passion, impulsiveness and loyalty. But to me those qualities are better shown in his character through his moon sign: an Aries moon, to be specific. See those anger outbursts? The “I don’t need any [fucking] calming tea!!”? The “you never think these things through”? Aries moon behavior, right there. But I’m not going to focus on moon signs right now. Let’s get back to the behavior I am the most well-versed at: Capricorn behavior.

So, the sign of Capricorn is also a cardinal sign, a leader, since they are the ones that begin each season. In the Northern Hemisphere, Capricorn season starts right on the winter solstice, and the opposite happens in the South. However, since all the astrology lore comes from the North thanks to the Greeks, Babylonians and more, the seasonal connections are related to the seasons there. As a consequence, Capricorn is the cardinal sign that brings the coldest, darkest season of the year: winter. And incorporating that into Zuko’s character would be incredibly fitting, in my opinion, because of some stuff I’ve read here on Tumblr saying that making him being born during the coldest time of the year would make it a terrible omen for a firebender, worse in this case due to him being born into the royal family, symbols of the power and “supremacy” of the Fire Nation. The fact that he would be born in winter, if we follow this reasoning, would have made him seem as a disappointment to his father ever since birth.

… or maybe I’m just cruel, guys.

Moreover, I think Zuko embodies many of the Capricorn qualities in the way he carries himself (because no, not all Capricorns are confident managers with the world in our hands) and how hard he has to work to earn everything he gets. A key part of what this sign represents is “the path of hardships the goat has to overcome in order to reach the top of the mountain”, which along with the myth I have described before, could easily be applied to Zuko. It describes values of endurance, hard work, discipline and drive in order to achieve your goals, something that can be seen in Zuko all throughout the series, but changes its focus as the seasons go by. Besides, uhm… have you guys seen “The Day of Black Sun, Part 2”? That is literally the positive outcome of the Capricorn myth made into animation: the confrontation between an abusive father figure and his abused child who has decided to part ways with him in order to become a better person.

On another note, I think it is important to highlight how the Capricorn in Zuko could be seen based on how the rest of the Gaang treats him as well when he changes sides and he’s accepted into the group. How?, you may be wondering: as a father figure, but in a positive way. In many scenes it can be noticed how he naturally takes a position of leadership within the group as well as he takes care of the younger members such as Aang and Toph but, especially in Aang’s case, tries to ground them and teach them. As examples, take the following: Zuko reminding Aang that soon he will have to face the fact that he might have to kill Ozai, him trying to get everyone to train when the comet is about to arrive; how when Aang gets lost, it is him the one people look to in order to lead the group, etc.

Another thing that is well-known in Capricorns is our resilience and perseverance and, honestly: do I even need to explain that? When it comes to the guy who would get his ass beaten again and again and again for one season straight in order to get what he wanted which would also give him the approval of his father, what he craved most? It screams earth sign behavior to me, but with a heavy saturnian influence due to Zuko’s background which, to me, can be quite an interesting reflection of the Saturn/Cronus myth with his children. Said tenacity could also be exacerbated by the willpower and energy brought by the possibility of him having a fire moon, I don’t know, think about it. I stick to that headcanon.

That perseverance can also be seen when it comes to Zuko’s firebending, given how much he’s always trying to improve his skills. Although it could be argued that in reality he’s doing so due to the expectations put on him to be a proficient bender just like his sister in order to be accepted by his father, and his constant training to the point of exhaustion is just a manifestation of that toxic behavior. I am sorry to tell you, but that’s textbook Capricorn behavior, associated with the symbolism of the hardworking goat in general: working the hardest in order to get what you want is always on-brand when it comes to important Capricorn placements, and in my opinion Zuko is no exception.

Final thoughts.

Anyway, what I think would be most relevant is what I mentioned before about the Capricorn archetype and how it could tie in nicely to Zuko’s character arc with him as a representation of Hestia, who could grow out of the abuse she experienced and got a chance not to make her father’s mistakes and break that horrendous cycle she had been a victim of. I would go into this more deeply, but I think it has been enough for now. However, I’ll be back soon with a part two, talking about my water queen Katara. What do you think about this headcanon? Do you agree? If not, why?

Thanks for coming to my weird-ass TedTalk at 1am. I needed to vent and I haven’t been able to put the computer down since 9pm, I literally only stopped to eat, lol.

See you soon,

a Capricorn sun.

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antique-ro-man · 3 years

Note

Go off about Hera go off about Hera!!!

Only if you wanna tho

Hera! Thank you for indulging my brainrot!!

So, Hera, right? I think she's usually portrayed as the youngest daughter of Rhea and Kronos. As we've seen this a ton of other Greek myths (Zeus, Kronos), being the youngest child is quite a roleTM.

Now, people often tend to gloss over Demeter, Hestia, and Hera during the titanmachy, but I would like to raise you an opinion. Hera is known to be incredibly powerful and is often known as the only person Zeus fears. My personal headcanon is that she was a powerful and fearsome warrior during the titanmachy.

And then you get to how she became Queen. First of all, I want to make something really clear. Hera is a victim. Zeus r*ped her, then proceeded to lie and cheat for the rest of their marriage, but let's back up for a second.

So, Hera has this really cute affinity for birds that I think a lot of people tend to gloss over. Like?? Zeus was able to gain access to her bedchamber by pretending to be an injured bird because he knew Hera would help one. This is also really ironic, since birds are often associated with freedom and Hera is a really constricted woman.

Also, one of Hera's symbols is the peacock, which is really interesting. Male peacocks are the ones who have all the pretty feathers and colors to impress the females. If that doesn't really capture her personality, I don't know what does.

Now, Hera married her r*pist. Obviously, there's the social pressures because Ancient Greece kind of sucked, but, also, this makes her Queen of the Gods. This is a woman who gave up freedom, love, and dignity for power (put a pin in this).

Also, before Hera, Metis was the Queen of the Gods. Metis, Goddess of the Wisdom. That's going to be a hard act to follow. Now, Hera is the Goddess of Marriage, Childbirth, Women, and Queen of the Gods. But, women weren't invented yet (Pandora came well into the Olympian rule), and Hera wasn't married yet, which means, before she was married to Zeus, she really didn't have any deific domain. And she's expected to replace the Goddess of Logic. That's going to be really stressful. Plus, unlike Metis, she never had to prove herself worthy of the position. Metis started the war against the Titans by freeing them, Hera just got married. She must have so much imposter syndrome.

I crackship Hera and Metis don't judge me.

Hera is the Goddess of Women, and she's also the forger of heroes. Yes, she tortures Zeus' lovers (or, more accurately, victims) and bastards, but those end up being most of Greek Mythology's greatest heroes and Gods (Heracles, Artemis and Apollo, etc.). You cannot tell me she didn't know what she was doing.

Hera didn't have a childhood. Her father ate her when she was born. When she was released from his stomach, she was thrust into a war. Then she became Queen of the Gods. This is a woman who has never known comfort, never known love, never known freedom. But she does understand power and anger. And those beliefs and those feelings and that knowledge is exactly what she projects onto the women and children she punishes. Yes, her anger is misdirected, but she can't hurt Zeus, he's the King of the Gods, and, besides, from her perspective, perhaps she's doing them a favour. Hera is married to Zeus, of all people. Her father is Kronos. She knows precisely what happens when people who don't deserve power are given it. She knows that Zeus' children will be heroes, and she makes sure that they are up to the task.

Yes, this analysis is VERY biased, but this is (one of) my personal takes on Hera's psychology.

#tw rape #hera

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lifeofroos · 4 years

Text

Part 13. Nothing else said.

In short: Nico gets therapy from Dionysus. This chapter, they talk about the grief Nico felt and still feels about Bianca. The rest is here on AO3!

Also, this is a heavy chapter. There is nothing particulairly triggering (except of course that they talk about the grief of losing a loved one), but I still wanted to give a warning ahead.

This Might Be Crazy: Part 13: Minute Maid Grape Juice

A Minute Maid grape juice box appeared right in front of me. I might have been able to ignore it and continue on with talking to the others at the Apollo table, if Dionysus had not made direct eye contact with me. It was a lucky thing that I had already eaten my breakfast, because my appetite was gone.

After everyone was done eating, Will softly stroked my back while the others got up. ‘Just call me when you are done. I’ll be there to comfort you.’

‘Thanks.’ I am going to get you so much Italian food this weekend, just you wait.

When everyone was gone, Dionysus walked over to me. ‘Good morning, Nico. Do you feel like you are in the right mindset to talk about your sister right now?’

I took a deep breath. Not really, but can you ever really be in the right mindset? ‘As good as anytime.’

‘Alright. If it gets too much, you need to tell me.’ As always.

‘Yes.’

He moved his head around. ‘Alright.’ Neither of us said anything for a moment, until I slowly opened my mouth: ‘So… ehm…’ It went through my head that he had probably waited to see if I would start myself. ‘I still miss Bianca,’ I managed to muster out. Then I looked back at the table.

‘That is a start and that is always more than nothing.’

Usually it helped me, but today that comment annoyed me. It felt like I was under pressure.

For about five minutes, I was silent, but it was not like I was doing nothing. I was wrecking my brain trying to find the right way to begin talking about this. I tried breathing exercises, but those did nothing to calm me down. ‘Bianca… she…’ My mouth closed again.

Dionysus slowly shook his head and stood up. He left the juice box on the table. ‘Come back to me when you feel better,’ was all he said before he walked away.

After lunch, I gave Dionysus his juice box back. ‘I am feeling better now.’ He gave me a concerned look, before putting a hand on my shoulder. For a second, I wondered why, until he teleported us to… some other place. I had never been there before and it was black. The walls were black, the floor was black and the ceiling was black. The two chairs that were standing in the room were black and the small table that was standing between them too. I saw it all, but I was too far into my own head to find it weird.

I sat down on one of the chairs before Dionysus told me to. He smiled a sad smile when he saw me do that. ‘This here is the mind zone. It is designed to look like what makes you the most comfortable to talk. I have no idea why that room would be black, but it has decided.’

Interesting. Strangely enough, I did feel compelled to talk. I took a deep breath, while Dionysus sat down on the other chair and handed me the juice box. I pushed the straw into it. ‘Alright. When…’ another deep breath, ‘When we were younger, my sister took care of me a lot. It was not like my mother wasn’t there at all, but more often than not, my sister would look after me. I… that is probably also because my mother… She had to work. Single mom, you know, and… and that in Fascist Italy… I mean, I think Hades might have given her resources to live off of too, but…’ Already, my head was feeling heavy. I was veering off topic. Usually, I would go with what came to me, but today I was determined to talk about Bianca. I would talk about my mother some other time, but I did notice that I missed her even more than I thought I did.

‘And… that responsible feeling… I think… grew when mom…’ I shruggedand held up my hands. A few tears rolled down my cheeks. My mind told me to take a sip of grape juice, so I did. It made me calm down a little. ‘She used to stick by my side in the Lotus Hotel, and even more so while we were in military school. She would listen to my ramblings, sit with me during most breaks, comfort me… She… she wanted to take care of me. Because it felt like it was us against the world.’ You destroyed your sister, Nico. Did you ever love her back? I tried to ignore the voice. More tears came. ‘Then… we were found. But… before we were taken to camp half-blood…’ I sobbed a few times. It felt like an arrow pierced through my heart. ‘...We… Artemis,’ I peeped. Well, now you know how hurt your sister felt all the time. I noticed that I was putting too much pressure on the carton with grape juice. Some of it was spilling over my hand. I quickly took a sip and I could feel my shoulders relax.

‘Shall I take it from here for a moment?’ I nodded, while I wiped my hands on the chair. It was black anyway.

‘Your sister used to take care of you, probably because your mother often couldn’t. Then suddenly, she joined the hunters of Artemis. Did that make you feel abandoned?’

I stared at my hands. ‘I… I guess. Yes, it did, even if it was more of a growing feeling than a big wave of loneliness, because she was still in camp, and, well, I think I thought…’ I stopped. I didn’t know what I thought all those years ago. But I did know what I was thinking now. ‘But… I feel like I cannot blame her.’ It was nothing more than a whisper, combined with my sight growing blurry with tears. The room was too black, too black… and then it became white. I was so confused that my stress dropped. ‘What…’

‘Yes well, as I said, the mind room is built so that it always looks like what is best for your mind. You needed the black before, but now what you need is this. Or you just needed to be suprised.’

Not gonna lie, that is kind of neat. I took a deep breath, and another sip of grape juice. ‘I feel like I… cannot blame her. She was not supposed to be taking care of a younger brother and to sacrifice her entire life and childhood to that. She… she made sure I was in good hands, made sure she could still see me sometimes… I think…’ I began to cry again. The room got a little darker.

‘Yes, Bianca should not have to take care of a younger brother for her entire teenagehood. Yet, that does not mean that you are not allowed to feel like she left you on your own. Those feelings are more than justified.’

‘I… I know she felt guilty about it.’ I almost choked on the lump in my throat. I held a hand in front of my mouth while I sobbed and cried. I took a very shaky breath. ‘I… she…’

‘Take another sip.’ Don’t, don’t, you don’t deserve it after what you said. I took a sip and felt calmer again, or at least the lump in my throat went down. ‘She… she died because she stole a mythomagic figure for me. From…’ I sobbed a few times. ‘From Hephaestus’ trashdump. There… Ta-talos…’

‘You can stop. It is alright.’ I closed my mouth. ‘Take another moment to put your thoughts in order.’ I put the juice box on the table and closed my eyes. Alright, I had already said a lot. A lot of difficult stuff, and I… I felt guilty about some of it. I still needed to say that part, yes, it might be smart to tell him about that part.

‘One of… one of the things that still haunts me…’ I shrugged. ‘I feel guilty about it. That… I felt abandoned. I… that feeling is just about me and not about how she must have felt taking care of her younger brother. And… and then she died… because she felt guilty about joining the hunters and she tried to do something for me to make up for it.’ I looked at the ground. Dionysus was quiet for a moment.

‘It is very natural that you feel guilty about that, but you should not. You are not a bad person for feeling left behind, but Bianca is also not a bad person for choosing for her own life after she made sure you were safe.’

I shrug-nodded. It sounded reasonable.

‘I just have one more thing to ask, and then we have done enough for today: Where is Bianca now?’

I wrung my hands into each other. ‘She chose rebirth,’ I whispered. A few more tears rolled down my cheeks. ‘But perhaps… perhaps that is for the better. It hurts a… a fuckton, but it might be for the better. It means I have to put it behind me and cannot be tempted to linger in the past anymore than I already am.’

‘How much did it hurt?’

‘...eh… I think I said it hurt a fuckton.’

‘That. You are allowed to feel devastated about this. You just said something very mature and very true, but you don’t have to always act like that. Sometimes, you are allowed to just let things be horrible, as long as you don’t stay in that feeling of horribleness forever. I would say that it is a part of overcoming grief and you need to go through that. Nico, you never properly let all your emotions about it get out, until now.’

I did not know what to say about that. ‘I mean, but...

‘Or did you already tell you boyfriend about it, or miss Levesque?’

Not really, now that I thought about it. I guess I pushed it away. ‘No.’

He did not reply. I sighed. ‘Maybe you are right.’

‘I tend to be.’ That was something that I in my turn did not reply to.

‘Perhaps… we should not stop. There is so much else, like stuff about my mother, and Hazel, and Jason, that all tie into my feelings about Bianca…’

‘Yes, but that is all about someone else. This session was meant to be exclusively about Bianca, so that you could let everything you felt about her out. Now, you need to process what happened. It is good for today.’ I picked up my juicebox and drank it empty. A wave of relief washed over me and I sighed. ‘Then it’s… it is done.’

‘Yes. You get to pick what you want to talk about next.’

‘I am going to think about that. And… talk to a few others.’ He saw there was a plan forming in my head, but he did not comment on it. ‘Alright, Nico. I trust that you know what to do next.’

A/N: Headcanon that Dionysus learned how to do therapy from Hestia, who talked to him when he was a demigod. Oh wait, I am the author. It’s canon now. (Wait should I write a bonus chapter about that?)

Something I am trying to write into the story is that Dionysus is not exactly… the most moral god. He might do something that can be considered a bit off (like giving Nico grape juice that calms him down) because it will help with having good sessions. I mean... he is a god.

You know how I said that this might take a while? Yes that was before my body decided to overtire itself and I was stuck on the couch for a couple of days. Next chapter is almost done as well (But maybe that I’ll save that for a few days, so I don’t burn through all my content at once) and what it will be is a surprise. Enjoy, I would say.

#Nico di angelo #Dionysus #bianca di angelo #pjo #trials of apollo #percy jackson and the olympians #tw therapy #cw therapy #tw grief #cw grief #tw death #cw death #fanfic #fanfiction #percy jackson #therapy #hurt/comfort #writing #writeblr

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mythologyfolklore · 4 years

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Ares and Athena through the years - Ch. 07

(A/N: trigger warning for mention of extreme torture and gore, plus mention of rape and child rape. Don't read further, if this is too much for you. Oh, and excessive use of the f-word. Also, Eris speaking with a weird accent, because she does what she wants.)

Chapter Seven: Captured and broken

Ares had gone missing.

At first no one had really minded, it had been wonderfully quiet without that noisy maniac.

In fact, had it not been for the circumstances, they would have used this opportunity to relax, but there was no reason for relaxation.

Olympos was besieged by two adolescent Gigantes, the Aloiadai. They were attempting to pile up a mountain, so they could take over the home of the gods. They threatened the Olympians and on top of that were harassing Hera and Artemis.

Ares had had enough of their nonsense and had gone to face them – despite having a bad cough, that idiot. But he still hadn't returned.

Which was bad, because now they had a gap in their defence, should the twins succeed in reaching up to the heavens.

And it was slowly, but surely getting too quiet.

Hermes and Apollon had admitted to missing their older half-brother's constant teasing.

Athena was growing more and more tense. She could have kicked herself for not knowing how badly she needed the annoying idiot. She missed the constant fighting. With Ares things never got boring, he was her adversary, someone to let steam off with. The blue-eyed goddess was getting seriously bored, restless and (not that she would ever admit it) worried for her half-brother.

Where was he?

Hephaistos suggested that something must have happened to him, because why would he go off, fight two Gigantes and then stay away for a year, not letting his family hear anything from him?

Aphrodite had turned into a nervous wreck and was constantly fearing the worst, which made her spiral into panic attacks every thirty minutes.

Eileithyia and Hebe were concerned too.

Even Zeus and Hera seemed to be worried.

The King of the Gods was constantly wandering to and fro in his office and the Queen was ruffling her hair in stress.

Since she and Artemis both were being harassed by those overgrown brats, they even had put aside their quarrels and could sometimes be seen sitting together at Hestia's hearth, talking and bonding over the ridiculousness of the entire situation.

To everyone's surprise Hera also turned out to be a stress baker.

So it came, that one evening the Olympians sat together in the assembly hall in a low mood, munching cake.

Finally Dionysos spoke up: “Who wants to get shitfaced?”

But before anyone could take the invitation, Zeus shook his head. “This is no time to get drunk”, he chided the youngest god and poor Dionysos lowered his head in shame. “If my son returns home in good health, that will be a reason to celebrate.”

Athena really didn't like the way her father specified “if he returns in good health”.

Zeus knew the future; Apollon had got that from him.

And whatever Zeus was seeing, it had to be bad.

Even though he appeared calm on the outside, the weather gave away, that he wasn't; his anxiety had manifested in a never-ending rainstorm, that had flooded all the lower areas of Olympos (the gods couldn't leave their palaces to walk on the pavements, without being knee-deep in the water).

After Zeus' statement, no one spoke another word.

Aside from the heavy rain and howling wind, there was just icy silence.

Finally, it was Apollon, who couldn't take it anymore.

“Father, how much longer do you want us to sit here?!”, he snapped, “It's been more than a year already and he's still missing! We have to do something! Ares may be a stupid jerk, but he is still one of us! They must have captured and imprisoned him somewhere, that's the only logical explanation for why he is still gone! What if those gigantic brats overwhelmed him and are torturing him in their evil lair?! What if they chained him up and are now doing unspeakable-”

“SHUT UP!!!”, Aphrodite shrieked all of the sudden and burst into distressed sobbing.

Hera went to pat her shoulder comfortingly and then proceeded to glare at her step-son.

“Way to elevate everyone's morals, Latôios¹! If you were as tactful as-”

“Enough!”, Zeus barked and everyone fell silent. “We will find him and until then-”

Right in that moment Iris burst in and announced a visitor.

Athena blinked in confusion.

Who could possibly have shown up here, on Olympos, in this weather?!

Eriboia was at loss as to what the Erebos that abnormally large bronze jar was doing in their cellar, why her step-sons wouldn't let her near it and what the heck they were doing in the cellar so often to begin with, when they weren't piling mountains on top of each other.

The overgrown youths were constantly bugged with these questions: “What is that ugly, huge bronze jar doing downstairs?”, “Why won't you let me go near that thing?” and “What the Hades are you two doing so much down there?”

After months of prying, it was Ephialtes who finally caved: “Alright, alright, shut up, I'll tell you! We caught the son of Zeus!”

“Which one?”, Eriboia deadpanned, “Zeus must have fathered at least ten percent of the population of Hellas. Be more specific.”

“Well, Ares! The god of war! You know, the only legitimate son?”

Oh no.

“Anyway, we caught him and wanted to use him as hostage, but Zeus hasn't reacted so far, and now that damn war god won't stop struggling, screaming and trying to free himself. But he can scream and struggle all he wants, because we bound him with extra strong chains! They're magical, you see, they grow tighter every time the captive moves. If we keep that loser down there long enough, they'll crush him! And until then he's a fun toy to play with, when we're frustrated or bored!”

Holy goat!

“Ha! It's like he wanted to be played with! He seriously took on us both and thought he could beat us all on his own! Now no one can bring us down! Soon we will conquer Olympos and all the gods and then-”

A piercing scream came from the cellar, cutting Ephialtes' boasting off.

As they looked into the room, they could see the ugly giant jar was quaking.

Eriboia was just a normal human – maybe that was why she felt the uncanny vibes coming from the jar so intensely. And it would have put her off, but the screams of agony appealed to her conscience way too much.

The teenage giant only smirked, before turning back to his step-mother. “Right then, we're off. Gotta pile up more mountains, so we can reach Olympos! Don't let him out, mother!”

With that he was gone.

Now Eriboia was entirely different in character from her step-sons, nor did she share their way of thinking. She had nothing against the gods and definitely didn't condone hubris – that and the way Ephialtes had just called the god of war a toy was beyond creepy.

Gingerly she approached the jar and pressed her ear against the bronze.

Now that she was close enough, she could hear the war god's faint voice whimper in agony.

“Help …”, it rasped, “Help … please … let me out … let me out …”

Her heart twisted painfully and she really wanted to help. But she wasn't strong enough to topple over that huge metal jar and maybe it would have hurt the captive too. So she knocked against the jar to show him, that she had heard.

“Hey”, she spoke, “Don't worry, I don't want to hurt you. I'm a mortal human, who wants to help. I'm not strong enough to get you out of there, but I will get help as soon as I can, okay?”

For a moment, there was silence.

Then a strained voice answered: “Thank you … please hurry … please.”

She frowned; it sounded so fragile, broken and weak.

Can the Deathless Ones die after all?, she wondered.

There was no time for long pondering, though.

She disguised herself and took off to Olympos to tell Zeus, where his son was.

Alone, there was a problem: how would she, a mortal, ever reach the Heavens?

Ares had never been so glad to hear a mortal's voice.

That woman – he just assumed it was one, judging by the voice – was his only hope.

The chains were cutting deep into his flesh and many of his bones had already broken under the pressure. He sank onto the side. The movement caused the chains to tighten even more, which caused him to cry out in mortal agony.

Ares was dying and he knew it; not only was he being crushed, he was also starving, dehydrating … and the Aloiadai had inflicted the worst kinds of torture upon him. He couldn't breathe. If someone didn't get him out of here soon, he would perish.

As much as he had always wanted to believe, that his immortality was absolute and that nothing could truly destroy him, he knew that Ephialtes was right. It would happen, if-

“Ares?”

The oh-so-familiar voice of the Messenger of the Gods nearly made him cry, but he had no tears left.

“Ares! Ares, where are you? Answer!”

He could only cough weakly.

Looking up, he saw Hermes' face come into view and peek into the jar.

“Oh, finally, I found y-HOLY FUCKING SHIT, IS THAT YOU???”

Ares let out a laboured chuckle: “Took you long enough, squirt.”

“Holy shit, what the Tartaros, what the fuck-”

“Just get me outta here!”, the war god croaked, “But careful, these chains are-”

The rest of the sentence died in the coughing of Ikhor.

Hermes shook his head and pulled his half-brother out of the accursed jar as carefully as possible. Then he picked him up bridal style and carried him back to Olympos as fast as his winged sandals could carry him.

He was flying at the speed of the wind, but the flight still seemed endless. Especially when the Messenger noticed, that Ares was starting to pass out.

If he passes out, he might never wake up!

“Ares, you have to stay awake! Do you hear me?!”

“Dunn' think I can – ngh!”

The war god grunted in pain and spewed more Ikhor, as his chains grew even tighter.

Hermes felt sick at the sight, but he had to keep him awake.

“You can do it, man! We're almost there! Here, we just passed through the gates!”

“… What's with the weather?”

The messenger cringed. “It's been shitty ever since you disappeared. Dad has anxiety.”

Ares grinned weakly. “Hey, the wind 'n' rain … feel good … nice 'n' cool …”

Oh no, he's falling asleep!

“Hey, Ares, look! There's Hephaistos' forge! Remember the incident?”

The response was a weak glare.

“Okay, sorry, sorry! Remember the Gigantomakhia? We all kicked arse and you killed Ekhidnades and Mimas?”

“U-huh.”

“And how father clapped your shoulder and said 'Well done, son'?”

A rattling laugh: “How could I … forget? Best day of … my shitty life …”

The older god's ribs and sternum broke with a nasty crack and he spat more Ikhor.

Hermes cringed at the sight more disturbing than anything he had ever encountered in Hades' domain.

“Okay, Ares, hang in there! There is Athena's olive garden! And there are Hera's apple trees and pomegranates!”

It didn't help; the other's red eyes were closing.

“Hey, Ares, don't pass out! You've gotta stay awake! Think of your family! Your kids!”

Ares smiled faintly. “My kids …”

“Yes, yes! They need you!”

“M-hm. Hey … how long was I …?”

“Thirteen months. Today it's the 3rd day of the Gamelion²”, Hermes supplied.

Ares groaned in despair: “I missed everyone's birthdays!”

Hermes was surprised, but also felt compelled to make the older feel better.

“When I visited Harmonia in Elysion last year, I wished her a happy birthday from you.”

“Good. Can you do it … tomorrow night too? Today … it's her birthday. And … bring her roses … I promised her … flowers from here …”

Hermes smiled: “Doing it still today.”

Ares forced a smile. “Thank you …” And promptly passed out in his half-brother's arms.

“No problem and-ARES?! OH NO, BY KHAOS, PLEASE, NO! WAKE UP! YOU HAVE TO WAKE UP! ASKLEPIOS! APOLLON! ATHENA! HEPHAISTOS! FATHER! ANYONE! HEEEELP!!!”

The chains were even darker than the gods had feared at first.

They couldn't even be removed normally, someone needed to neutralise the dark magic. Only one goddess was capable of this and thus Zeus sent for Night-Wandering Hekatê. And indeed, with powerful ancient spells the ever-shifting Titanis made the chains release their hold on their captive.

Now the healing deities could finally take the war god to the sickbay, where he was laid into the Pool of Paiôn³. Apollon himself, Asklepios and his wife and daughters had all come together and poured their entire healing powers into the water non-stop for three days.

But his injuries (both external and internal) were so grave, that he would be in the Healing Coma for at least another year.

Later that night, the Olympians held council and listened to the reports of the divine doctors and of Hekatê.

“The number and kinds of injuries we found on him is truly disturbing”, Asklepios stated, “His inner organs all crushed, not a single bone unbroken and … and …”

He hesitated.

“Go on”, Zeus urged.

Only, the son of Apollon was obviously unsure of how to put into words, what he really wanted to say – it took him a while to find a way to put it into words.

“Well, my wise king, it seems like the Aloiadai … uhm, used him to elevate their boredom.”

Zeus tensed up and the air suddenly became extremely heavy and charged.

“What?”, he asked slowly.

Asklepios swallowed, before he continued: “Apart from the wounds and bruises inflicted by the chains, we also found scratch marks and hand imprints all over his body and … injuries between the thighs.”

The meaning of that was obvious.

For a moment everything was quiet … too quiet.

Then, all at once, the wrath of Zeus was unleashed in a thunderstorm of mythological proportions.

Deep down in the underworld, a loud rumble was heard and the inhabitants trembled in fear.

Persephone looked up from her work. “What the here is going on up there?”

Hades shrugged: “Probably your father throwing a hissy fit or something.”

Finally Zeus calmed down enough to dial it back with the lightning and thunder and cleared his throat: “Ahem. My apologies. What were you saying?”

Poor Asklepios (who wasn't remotely as used to Zeus' temper tantrums as everyone else) stuttered the rest of his report: “Uh-uhm … h-his injuries a-are nothing my ch-children and I c-can't fix, b-b-but his soul … he-he'll be traumatised.”

Zeus took a deep breath, before he could unleash another European hurricane, and nodded. “Thank you, grandson. You may go.”

Asklepios left the hall as quickly as was appropriate, obviously relieved to no longer have to be in the enraged sky god's presence.

Zeus sighed and rubbed the back of his head.

Then he turned to Hekatê and asked for her report (ignoring the eyes floating in the air around her head and upper body as far as possible).

“I have wandered the earth ever since I could walk”, she lisped. “But never have I seen anything so sinister. More so I'm puzzled, that the Aloiadai even got their hands on these. If you would come closer, so I can show you what I mean?”

The Olympians all came closer and surrounded Zeus and Hekatê.

She placed her hands onto the metal and eldritch symbols began to show.

“As you can see, ancient and powerful magic has been woven into them. This”, she pointed at a certain line of symbols, “Is a tightening spell. It detects the slightest movement and causes the chains to constrict in response. Of course Ares would have tried to free himself and inadvertently made it worse.”

She pointed at another row of symbols.

“This is the curse of mortality. Every divine being's essence is encompassed by a thick shell and that's our divinity. But these chains infiltrate the protective shell and pump the impurity of mortality into your very essence.”

Hera gasped: “Does that mean my son is now a mortal?”

“No. Fortunately, Hermes found him just in time. But one more day and it would have been too late. You have seen how faint his divine aura was.”

The Titanis sighed and went on: “This spell here is the worst. It drains the life out of the victim and transfers its life force onto the person holding power over the chains. In other words, while Ares was their prisoner, the Aloiadai grew stronger at his expense. They fed off his very life force, like parasites. Although I don't think they were aware of it, considering their age.”

Now it was Athena, who cried out: “So, even if he hadn't succumbed to his physical injuries, he would have wasted away, until finally all of him was drained, leaving him a lifeless husk?!”

“Yes.”

“But this is awful! This is evil! How- they're only Kouroi⁴!

“Indeed”, the Titanis agreed. “But watch, it gets worse – step back, everyone!”

They did and Hekatê sang another ancient incantation. The eerie glow of the shackles intensified, grew darker and darker. Then Hekatê suddenly leapt back and not a moment too soon; a substance began to ooze out of the metal like wafts of black mist.

There was a collective gasp and several of the attenders fainted.

Poseidon's and Zeus' faces turned ashen and their black eyes widened with horror.

“No!”, Zeus whispered, “It can't be … this is impossible!”

“But … but how???”, Poseidon screamed, “We sealed them away, they shouldn't have-”

“Father, uncle”, Athena spoke up, “I beg you, do not withhold this from us – what is this?”

Zeus squeezed his eyes shut and took a breath to compose himself.

Finally, he revealed, that those were the chains that once bound the Elder Kyklopes and the Hekatonkheires⁵, who were first imprisoned by their father Ouranos and then by Kronos.

“They were forged from the pure darkness of Erebos and the baleful essence of Tartaros. For the Titanes, we used different bonds, as we didn't want to use the terrible old ones. My siblings and I collectively decided, that something so appalling must never be used again. So we hid the chains, where no one would ever find them – or so we thought.”

He turned back to Hekatê. To his dismay, she was weeping from her floating eyes.

“Do forgive me”, she apologised. “The horror of this whole situation just breaks my heart.”

Zeus nodded. As king he couldn't weep, but the awful weather on Olympos spoke volumes.

“We all feel the same way. Anyhow, now that this has been done to my son and heir, I decree, that we must make sure something like this can never happen again. Sealing these chains away obviously wasn't enough. Hekatê, can you destroy them?”

“No, I'm afraid that's not within my power. I could break them, but destroying them completely would require the power of one of the Protogenoi.”

The Olympians exchanged uncomfortable glances.

The Protogenoi. The Firstborn Ones.

Which of them could they summon?

Athena addressed the problem: “We have to make a choice. On one hand it would be wise to call upon Nyx, Erebos and/or Tartaros, as their essence is the main component of these chains. On the other, it would make sense to summon the Protogenos, who made them.”

“That was my father.”

Everyone stared at Aphrodite, who had just woken up and was standing up.

“I was born from the essence – hold your tongue, Poseidon – of Ouranos, the Sky. He is the one who made them, as Zeus already said.”

“Can you summon him?”, Athena enquired.

“I can try”, Aphrodite replied, “I can speak to him, but I'm not sure, if he will actually help us.”

“Do try”, Zeus requested. “You are the most beautiful of his children. If anyone can convince him to destroy these disgusting things, it's you.”

Aphrodite consented, but declared crossly: “Mind you, everyone: I'm only doing this for Ares! This is my father's fucking fault! These fucking chains did this to my love and I will not fucking rest, before they've been fucking obliterated!!!”

Then she stomped out into the rain.

It seemed like an eternity, until Athena noticed, that her father was growing uneasy.

“He's coming”, he informed everyone. “I can sense a supernatural shift in the atmosphere.”

And sure enough, Aphrodite returned with a majestic looking man of lofty stature, clad in a long robe covering his entire body.

His skin was the night sky, his hair and coat resembled the thunderclouds outside (in fact, his hair seemed to be composed of the clouds outside). He radiated the sheer primordial power and very essence of the holy heavens.

So this is Ouranos?

There was something about him, that made Athena's very flesh crawl. His face was void of all emotion, his silvery eyes were cold.

Psychopath, was the first word that came to her mind.

“Welcome to my home, venerated forefather”, Zeus greeted the old god with ostensible calm.

“Thank you”, the Sky replied coolly. “Now, why have you dared to summon me? My daughter here told me, that it is important, otherwise I would not have come.”

“Yes, indeed it is. I reckon you remember these?”

He pointed at the broken shackles, still lying on the floor and oozing darkness and bale.

The Sky stepped closer to examine them. “Ah, yes. It was I who made them.”

“We know that. Now, if you could-”

“Why did you free the Kyklopes and the Hekatonkheires?”, Ouranos demanded to know. “I sent them to Tartaros for a reason.”

Suddenly Athena felt a surge of rage. And she wasn't the only one.

Zeus' coal black eyes grew hard. “You imprisoned your children, because they weren't graceful and fair-faced, like the Titanes. My siblings and I liberated our uncles, because they were talented and useful and never hurt anyone, unless we asked them to.”

His passive-aggressive outrage caused more lightning and thunder outside the hall and in Ouranos' cloudy hair. As response it waved in what was probably irritation.

“You're the son of Kronos and Rheia indeed”, Ouranos remarked scathingly.

Athena intervened: “Do forgive us, Dome of Heaven. Surely you must know, what these chains have done to a god, who despite all differences is one of us. So you need to understand, that we're quite … on edge.”

Understatement of the millennium, but whatever.

Ouranos turned and looked the bright-eyed goddess up and down.

“You're the granddaughter of Okeanos, the only honourable one of my sons. Yes, I see him and your mother in you. Well then, for your sake and that of my daughter Aphrodite, I will forget this argument ever happened.”

“Thank you, honoured forefather”, Athena said politely. “Anyway, us gods are in agreement, that such dangerous means of confinement should never be used again. We couldn't possibly imagine anyone more capable of preventing another such tragedy, than you.”

“I understand”, the Sky nodded, “You want them to be destroyed completely. Hmm …”

He picked the adamantine chains of darkness up effortlessly, but frowned, before continuing: “Something has been done to them, that wasn't my work. I remember each component that I used to create these. The parasite spell and the mortality spell were not among them. These two must have been added by the Titanes, I can't think of another explanation. The only other Primordials, who could have done this, wouldn't have.”

Ouranos grimaced. “I agree with you, these things are really disgusting. Something so hideous must not be allowed to exist.”

His hands began to glow as bright as the sun, countering the dark essence of the chains … until eventually the chains just faded into thin air. He informed the gods, that whatever of this evil had remained would be erased by the holy essence of Great Khaos itself, then proceeded to strut out of the palace to become one with the Dome Above again.

A few moments later Zeus groaned: “Oh thank the Moirai, he and the grisly chains are finally gone!”

Upon hearing this, the other gods returned to their seats and allowed themselves a moment to let the tension seep out of them.

For the first time that night the (still heavy) rain and howling wind actually felt … relaxing.

After an uncertain amount of time, Hekatê asked: “May I go home?”

Her vibrant violet hair had greyed and she had rapidly aged throughout the night; she had arrived a little girl and was now a crone. A sign, that it was almost dawn.

Zeus allowed her to go and thanked her.

She smiled: “Don't mention it. I like to help.”

With that, Hekatê took her twin torches back from Hestia, said goodbye and vanished into the dead of night.

Once she was gone, Apollon sighed and rubbed his temples. “Shit … is it really morning already? Man, I haven't slept in days, putting my healing energy into the Akesian Sleep⁶ has completely drained me and there is still so much to do! This will be a long day …”

“Don't worry”, Hera muttered, “I'll make a few calls for today, so you should have less duties to attend to. Consider this a sign of gratitude for helping my eldest son.”

“Much appreciated”, the younger god thanked her. “And you're welcome.”

Zeus stood up. “I think we all need sleep. It will do no good to any of us to have no rest.”

“Wait, father! We're not done yet!”, Athena claimed and everyone sunk back into their seats with a groan.

The King of the Gods frowned. “What's the matter, my daughter? What did we forget?”

“Getting rid of the chains was only one part of the problem”, she pointed out, “We still need to take care of the other part: the Aloiadai, who did this to Ares.”

“Yes, but what shall we do? What if another of us goes to face them and is captured as well? You've seen, what they've done to Ares. What if they have more of those chains?”, Hephaistos worried.

“I don't think they do”, Athena replied, “I don't think they even knew what the chains were. Anyway, we need to dispose of them, before they can kill us all and force Hera and Artemis to-”

“I say we vaporise them!”, Aphrodite hissed, “Reduce them to ashes, like my father did with the chains!”

“And how exactly do you plan to do that?”, Athena questioned. “Remember how Ares' immense power didn't impress them at all? We need to-”

“I DON'T FUCKING CARE!!!”, the goddess of love shrieked and began to glow red with rage, “I DO NOT FUCKING CARE, PALLAS ATHENA!!! LOSING MY DAUGHTER WAS BAD ENOUGH, NOW I NEARLY FUCKING LOST MY LOVE AND THE FATHER OF MY DIVINE CHILDREN! WHAT DO YOU FUCKING EXPECT ME TO DO??? SIT IDLY BY, AS THEY GET AWAY WITH ALMOST FUCKING TORTURING HIM TO DEATH?! I DO NOT FUCKING FORGIVE AND FORGET! EVERY FIBRE OF MY BEING CRIES OUT FOR REVENGE! I WANT THEM TO FUCKING SUFFER, LIKE THEY MADE ARES SUFFER, IF IT'S THE LAST FUCKING THING I DO!”

“SHUT THE TARTAROS UP!!!”, Athena roared, losing her last shred of composure. “WHAT MAKES YOU BELIEVE WE'LL LET THEM GET AWAY WITH IT?! WE ALL! WANT! REVENGE! THEY HARASSED HERA, EVEN THOUGH SHE IS OUR QUEEN AND ARTEMIS, EVEN THOUGH SHE'S A VIRGIN GODDESS LIKE ME! WE ALL WANT THEM TO SUFFER AND BY STYX, THEY WILL!!!”

“Ahem … excuse me, ladies?”

The furious goddesses blinked and turned to Zeus, who was looking slightly unsettled.

He sighed: “Calm down, both of you. You're scaring everyone.” And gestured towards the table with his thumb.

Athena and Aphrodite sweatdropped, as they spied the other Olympians hiding under it, huddling together, whimpering and shivering in fear. The two disputants stuttered an awkward apology and helped their fellow Olympians to come out.

Hera, first to recover, addressed Aphrodite: “Next time you get angry, please tone it down with the F-word. It's unbecoming for a member of the Dodekatheoi⁷.”

“I'm sorry for that”, the older goddess apologised, “I don't know what came over me.”

“Anyway”, Athena groaned, “We need a plan. Raw violence didn't help Ares and it won't help us. We have to be more cunning than this. Besides, his state is partly our fault, as we failed to rescue him for more than a year. We're all upset and out for blood, so does anyone beside myself have an idea how to get rid of them?”

Artemis raised her hand. “I do. And I'm confident, that it'll work. It involves you and me and the help of discord-sowing Eris.”

Ares remained in the Akesian Sleep for longer than Asklepios had predicted.

During that time, everyone who cared came to check on the unconscious god.

Athena was surprised by how many people that were, and even more surprised that she was among them.

One day she saw Hera crouched against the glass of the healing tank, weeping bitterly.

“My son, my little boy, my champion, my little whirlwind …”

It had been many thousand years, since Athena had last heard Hera use those nicknames for her son. It reminded her that, deep down under all her cold and queenly exterior, Hera loved her children, even though she had the worst ways of showing it sometimes.

Sometime later Athena saw her father Zeus and Hera stand in front of the healing tank together. He was holding her in his arms and she was crying into his chest. It was a rare moment of harmony between the two and Athena couldn't help, but smile.

Of course Aphrodite came a lot too. Day after day she lingered by the tank and prayed to Khaos, that Ares would get better and back to his old self. But other than that, she never wept. Like Hera, she stayed strong for her children, which was quite admirable in Athena's eyes.

Ares' children too came every day.

One evening, Athena found the twins Phobos and Deimos snoozing against the glass, apparently they had fallen asleep waiting for their father to get better. Instead of waking them up, she had just carefully scooped them up and carried them back to Aphrodite's house. Their mother had smiled at the sight of Athena carrying two pre-teenage boys in her arms, but had allowed the younger goddess to help her tuck them in.

Hephaistos too came to check on his older brother.

The sight was painful.

Ares was floating in the Pool of Paiôn unconsciously, just skin and bones, paler than Hades and covered in wounds that were healing way too slowly.

“Dammit, Ares”, he grumbled, “What were you thinking? Taking on two Gigantes by yourself! You fucking idiot.”

He pushed his wheelchair next to the glass.

“You know, if someone had told me fifty years ago, that one day I would be visiting you in sickbay, I would've called them mad. I'm just glad that you and I got to reconcile, before this shit happened. One regret less I would've had, if you had actually died.”

He couldn't help but wonder, if the Akesian Sleep was dreamless or not. He hoped it was, because if not, Ares would certainly be trapped in unending nightmares about what he had gone through.

“You probably can't hear me, but … we're missing you. Hard to believe, huh? But it feels kinda too quiet and empty without you. Maybe you won't believe it, but we care about you, deep down, even though you're a prick.”

He chuckled bitterly: “I know exactly, what you would say now: 'If you care, then why did it take you over a year to find me?' Well, and you're right. I guess it took this crap for us to realise. Don't get me wrong, we still don't like you. And as soon as you recover, you'll probably still be a huge prick, albeit one with major issues and traumata. So that'll be a thing.”

With a last sigh, he turned his wheelchair to leave.

“Get well soon, okay?”

In a rare fit of generosity Zeus even allowed Ares' best friend Eris to visit, on the condition that she and her kin wouldn't wreak havoc.

Eris was sour about the condition, but agreed.

So she, her children and the Keres were uncharacteristically quiet, as Asklepios allowed them in one by one.

Eris was the last in line, letting her children and sisters go first.

They left Olympos right after making their sickbed visits, knowing better than to overstay their welcome.

But Eris lingered. She couldn't just leave a postcard and go, not with Ares.

It was almost nightfall, when Athena found the Mother of Woes still stand in front of the healing tank.

The abhorred daughter of Nyx looked oddly subdued. Her mane of tousled black and white hair and her black wings were drooping.

As Athena was about to make herself known, Eris spoke: “He was me charge, back when he was a wee kid.”

“I know. Hera told me, that you were his nurse first and then his guardian”, Athena answered softly.

“Did she also tell ya, why I became his guardian later on?”

The younger goddess had to admit, that Hera had left that detail out.

“He an' the Horai were born still durin' the Titanomakhia. Everyone says it lasted ten years, but that's Olympian Years. An' despite all the commotion, Zeus still had time ta fall for and marry first yer mother, then Themis, then Hera, who is now his queen. Mortals an' younger gods think it 'appened later, but they're wrong.”

One Olympian Year was a mortal decade, Athena knew. So the war had actually lasted a hundred years? And why was Eris telling her this?

The personification of strife chuckled: “Neanderthals and mammoths an' such were still around. Ares loved playin' with 'em. Ye know, when I first met 'im, he was such a wee laddie, he didn't even reach up to me hip.”

That was hard to imagine; Ares was a quite tall man and had been lanky even when Athena had met him as a preteen. Eris was rather slight and dwarfish in comparison.

“He was, like, seven. I found it a bit weird, 'cuz I already had been his nurse before. Bu' when Hera told me the situation, of course I said aye.”

“Why did Hera make you his guardian?”, Athena finally asked.

The Daimona scowled: “She tol' me he'd been kidnapped by Kronos an' his cronies. They did sum' really sick shite ta him, if ye know what I mean.”

Suddenly the goddess of wisdom felt like she was going to puke.

Eris sighed: “'Course he was traumatised. An' ya know yer father's attitude about that shite.”

“Yes, I do”, Athena nodded soberly. Zeus was the biggest arsehole in that regard (and a lot of others, but that was irrelevant right now).

“Anyway, Hera could nae 'andle him, so she gave 'im back into me care. She knew he'd be safe wi' me. No one likes me, so they would nae come ta me lookin' fer him. Turned out he still remembered me; always had a really good memory, he had. Leapt right into me arms. I took care o' him fer three years, then Eileithyia was born an' he wanted to go back. I helped him cope wi' the trauma an' taught him how ta fly an' deal wi' the voice in his head.”

So she knows about it too.

Eris finally turned to face Athena.

Her ghostly white face was grim and her gleaming red eyes were hard. Her spidery claws balled into fists.

“Listen ta me, Daughter o' Metis. Ares is like a son ta me. When ye asked me help to put down the Aloiadai, I asked fer nothin' in return. Tartaros, if I was as strong as ye, I would've ripped them apart with me bare hands.”

Athena nodded, knowing what Eris was going to ask of her.

“Ye know exactly what I want from ye. Don't evah go easier on 'im than ye did before and don't evah mention, what I just told ye. But promise me this: whether ye hate him or nae, whether ye two are allies or adversaries, I wan' ye to prevent this from e'er happenin' again. Keep an eye on 'im, lassie, aye?”

Athena nodded solemnly.

“By the waters that drip from the river Styx, you have my word.”

---

1) Latôios: "Son of Leto", one of Apollon's epithets 2) Gamelion: the first winter month in the Attic calendar (Januar/February), dedicated to Hera. At the end of this month, the Hieros Gamos was celebrated, in honour of Zeus' and Hera's marriage. 3) Paiôn: "The Healer", an epithet of Apollon and Asklepios. 4) Kouros: an early to mid teenage boy. 5) Hekatonkheires: the "Hundred-Handed Ones", three giants with a hundred hands and fifty heads each. They were imprisoned in Tartaros by their father Ouranos after birth, much to the outrage of their mother Gaia. Kronos later freed them, but re-imprisoned them, after finding them no longer useful. Eventually they were freed permanently by Zeus and in return helped him defeat the Titanes. 6) The Akesian Sleep, or sleep of healing, is my invention. It's a reference to the Stygian Sleep, but a healing sleep instead of a sleep of death. 7) Dodekatheoi: Twelve Gods, another name for the twelve Olympians.

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theoi-crow · 5 years

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Hello! I'm new to Hellenic paganism. Can you please tell me more about altars? how to make it and ESPECIALLY how to hide it from my Christian family? thank you!

Hi!

I grew up not having the privacy or space to have an altar due to my own Christian household so I understand.

I wasnt able to access a "traditional" physical altar until I moved out of my parent's house so I wanted to share my methods and how they work for closet devotees.

Before I dive into the various options and suggestions I just want to mention that altars come in all forms. Some are physical, some are digital, some are in the spiritual plane and some are even 2D, it really depends on what you can access and what you are comfortable with.

No altar is better than another. Altars are designed to give the gods space in your life. This space does not have to be physical, 3D or obvious.

Warning: Many blogs will pressure you into feeling like you NEED your altar/s to be or look a certain way. But your gods KNOW you don't have the freedom to safely give them this kind of altar.

Believe me when I say:

The gods would rather you be discreet and SAFE about making them an altar because they care about you.

They have had many followers get creative about their altars during the dark ages where the penalty was death. So rest assure they want to make sure you are as comfortable as you want them to be.

1. Physical altars:

Are great for physical reminders of your gods (but a necklace, a picture, a quote can be a great reminder as well.) You can place your offerings here. They don't have a set design unless you are following a certain religion like Wicca.

Your physical altar can be counter space, a box, a garden, a room, a wall, etc. Decorate it with what you feel your gods would want. Feel out what makes the most sense for you or the aesthetic you sense they would want.

Hiding them:

Physical altars are the riskiest ones because they can be easily found.

If you are planning to make this kind of altar, I suggest you decorate it in a more inconspicuous way. Make it look more like a personal aesthetic/decoration and less like an altar.

Instead of having actual god statues or god pictures, I recommend pictures of animals, plants, things associated with that god but can be good for anyone like a wolf or crows for Apollo, a dove for Aphrodite, a picture of thunder for Zeus, etc.

And instead of using candles and inscence (dead giveaways for Christian parents) if you can get away with a scented candle under the guise of it smells nice, if not, use a lamp and perfume or spray the gods like (for example: Aphrodite loves a special perfume I've dedicated to her).

You can also use things that remind you of that god but don't give off that pagan look for example; adding hearts and seashells with a quote that says "beauty is in the eye of the beholder," or an image of a wolf or flowers that look pretty but are associated with a god.

You can even get pictures of celebrities whose energy reminds you of the gods. Your parents will just assume you're into that band or actor, etc.

You can also have a travel altar. It's a tiny altar that has your personal essentials. If you Google: "travel altar" you'll find a lot of examples of what I mean. I suggest you only put what you are okay with your family finding, in case you accidently leave it or it gets lost. I recommend avoiding candles and anything that looks witchy. Should they ever find it, you can tell them it's a self-care box.

2. Digital altars:

I consider my blog to be a digital altar.

Gods evolve with time. Hephaestus creates computers, Hermes takes care of packages, Hestia watches over stoves and heaters, Zeus has control over the electricity we need and Apollo helps us create this electricity with solar panels.

The gods have modernized and like to be around their devotees which means the internet is also a good place for an altar. You can use Tumblr, Facebook, Pinterest, etc. To create a safe space for sharing your devotion to the gods.

The internet is also ideal because it's the place where you meet other followers and inspire eachother over how much you all love the gods. People give offerings in the form of poems/songs/written pieces/art/ etc they've made.

Hiding them:

KEEP YOUR FAMILY OUT OF THIS SPACE!!!

This is your space to do and be open about how you feel. This is the space where you meet like minded people so be careful with opening this side of the internet around your parents.

And if they do find it, make it seem like it's a Percy Jackson thing or the gods are metaphorical. If you are still in school, you can say it's a school project.

I know many would be upset having to lie about their gods but the gods understand you are not in the kind of environment where you can be open about these things.

Be cautious about who you open your digital altar in front of but I recommend a digital altar because some of the images and pieces you will come across and reblogg will take your breath away and make you feel like you are in the presence of the gods. Digital altars can be absolutely amazing.

3. 2D altars:

My first physical altar was in a sketchbook I would never let my parents look at.

Many would say this would be more appropriate for a book of shadows but it works for an altar as well.

I would draw or cut out magazine images that reminded me of Ares and he would declare it to be his home.

Sometimes I would open the sketchbook to my altar and lay my head on it just to feel Ares' energy on days where my family was being very difficult. (I was a little kid)

Some days I would feel so alone that I would bring out my altar sketchbook and have a mental conversation with Ares while I looked at the collage/scrapbooking images I made with all the things I knew he liked.

I would always feel like he was hugging me and looking over my shoulder to see the 2D altar I had made for him along with all the inspirational quotes he would tell me. I often wrote down our conversations and drew doodles too.

Hiding them:

Do not let your parents find this book but in case they do make this altar look more like an inspirational page filled with drawn or cut out images.

You can also make your whole sketchbook into a kind of altar scrapbook where you use Different materials to fill different pages. They can each represent different things.

Many will insist this is a book of shadows/grimoire and it can be but it is also an altar.

I didn't have an actual altar until I moved out of my parent's house so this was my kind of altar until I was able to do my own thing.

The best part about this altar is that it not only helps you get creative but you can take it anywhere with you! You can put poems, images, fabric, feathers, flowers, etc. But avoid making it look too witchy in case you lose it!!!

It really is one of my favorite altar forms.

4. Spiritual plane altars:

This altar is not physical and can be reached through visualization. This altar can be as big or as small as you want it to be. Mine are often massive cathedral-like castles with the gods in them. Sometimes the god will be away but other times they will be there.

Hiding them:

The best part is that no one can ever know about your altar because they can't access your thoughts. The downside is not being able to focus but the beauty of this is it'll encourage you to practice meditation which will also sharpen your godphone skills as well.

This is my favorite altar method and it's the one I use the most. I have a physical altar that I only use for special occasions like gift giving. Aside from that, I rarely go to my altar (which is currently blocked off for spring cleaning).

Sometimes I'll go about my day when I suddenly get a mental image of my spiritual altar and the god whose altar it belongs to will say something or point at something.

Having this kind of altar does not mean your gods will be upset you didn't give them a physical altar. You did. You are giving them a spiritual home where they can easily reach you, and by meditating, this kind of altar will help you develop your spiritual abilities in different ways.

Altars can come in other forms as well like on a garden, wall, as well as other locations so know that these are just the four I'm most familiar with.

I hope this helps!!!

May the Gods help you find the altar that brings you the most comfort and joy as you continue to deepen this beautiful relationship.

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the-depressed-shiny-buneary · 4 years

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Pokemon Next Gen (Ranch Helpers): Arche Akagi

Arche is the son of Cyrus and Jupiter. Sometime before Cyrus would put his plan into action, he called Saturn, Mars, and Jupiter to his office and wanted Mars and Jupiter to carry his children so that in case his plan fails his offspring would carry out his plan. What they didn’t count on was the fact that all three kids didn’t seem to be interested in carrying out Cyrus’ vision of a perfect world and would rather spend their time as normal kids. It wasn’t until the three of them met Chetari and Hestia and they also became part of Chetari’s ranch. Arche is the middle child of the Galactic siblings, so he often feels like he has to stand out from Janus who’s the leader, and Helia who’s the infiltrator. Arche is often the one who looks up information about their enemies and will let Janus know if he finds any weaknesses, Arche also helps train with the recovering Pokemon to help them get ready to be released into the wild. Much like his mother, Arche is quick to act in any situation which is helpful for when there are attacks on the ranch, it’s a trait that everyone is thankful for. Arche also knows hand to hand combat and is the one who taught his half-siblings as well as Chusi because she wished to get stronger.

His Pokemon:

Stunky- Stunky is the daughter of Jupiter’s Skuntank. Like her father, Stunky is very loyal to Arche, and just like her trainer, she’s quick to act in a situation such as if a baby Pokemon is falling, she’ll quickly catch them before they hit the ground. Stunky is also very close to other Pokemon on the ranch, especially the Pokemon who hatch from eggs and he often acts as the babysitter for them, she also is the main protector of the baby Pokemon thanks to her natural ability to spray a foul-smelling fluid at the attacker to make them run away or faint. Stunky is also laid back, often sleeping when she isn’t needed or when the Pokemon in the nursery are having their nap but if she hears the slightest bit of danger or if Arche calls for her, she will wake up immediately and rush to her trainer’s side. She has a sibling-like bond with Janus’ Croagunk and Helia’s Glameow, the three of them always hang out together and they work perfectly together if they happen to be battling against someone. She wears a white bandanna around her neck and is often seen outside of her Pokeball.

Caught in a Pokeball.

Ability is Aftermath.

Moves are Poison Gas, Night Slash, Explosion, Sucker Punch, Shadow Claw, Sludge Bomb, Flamethrower, Foul Play, Crunch, and Venoshock.

Amoonguss- Arche caught Amoonguss while he was on a walk to Stunky, he thought that an Amoonguss would be perfect for the ranch’s defense so he quickly caught him. Amoonguss is rather easy-going, preferring to just lay back and relax instead of actually doing anything that requires him to move. However, when there is a time to attack he’ll often use his spores to either stun, poison or put his enemies to sleep, depending on what he wants to do or what Arche tells him to do. Amoonguss is basically the distraction and will hinder his opponents in any way possible, he also is great at working with his allies to help them by healing them.

Caught in an Ultra Ball.

Ability is Effect Spore.

Moves are Stun Spore, Spore, Poison Powder, Solar Beam, Synthesis, Giga Drain, Nature Power, Pollen Puff, Sludge Bomb, and Grassy Terrain.

Weavile- Arche caught Weavile after having a tough battle against him and his pack of Sneasel. After Weavile was caught, the pack scattered and Weavile was very upset that he had lost his pack. However, he took the leadership role after getting a good look at the ranch and seeing the potential with all of the Pokemon in the ranch. Weavile is a natural-born leader, he also knows all kinds of tactics that he’ll go over with the other Pokemon on the ranch when they’re under attack by someone. Weavile also looks out for everyone on the ranch, acting as a leader and an older brother figure to others, he shows a bit of tough love to the others but he will also be comforting to them, giving them encouragement when they need it. He sees the Pokemon on the ranch as his new pack and is quick to protect and help them out. Aside from protecting them, Weavile will also use his attacks to make it so that no one can get to the ranch, mostly by making the ground slippery.

Caught in an Ultra Ball.

Ability is Pressure.

Moves are Ice Beam, Quick Attack, Agility, Night Slash, Ice Punch, Metal Claw, Triple Axel, Icicle Crash, Foul Play, and Avalanche.

#Pokemon #Next Gen #Pokemon Next Gen #TBHShipping #Arche Akagi #My OCs #Ranch Helpers

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annoyedfanfiction · 6 years

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Aquaman x Kryptonian!Amazon!reader (1)

This wasn’t right. You stared at the two side-by-side graves, both torn in half by the pressure of an emerging body. Clark wasn’t meant to die. And you weren’t meant to be back. “We bring you back, and already you question us.” The voice behind you almost burned as he even spoke, but you turned to him anyway. “Lord Apollo.” You had never been great at honouring the gods, as you met his glowing eyes. “This is the end of worlds. Use your place in it wisely.” He vanished before you in a blinding blast of yellow light, leaving you muttering about show-off assholes.

“Honestly... I think we're gonna be dead way before that. And you know what? I don't mind. It's an honorable end. But we've gotta shut Steppenwolf down.” You recognised the voice before you saw him. Queen Atlanna’s beloved first born. The man so precious he formed an alliance between an Amazon and an Atlantean just to stop you from ‘corrupting’ him. And look where he ended up, right next to the other golden child. “Superman's a no-show. You've got no powers. No offense. This guy might be working for the enemy. We don't know. You're tripping over your feet, and mine... You're gorgeous. And fierce... And strong–” You tuned his monologue out, as you pulled the mechanical door of the jet open, interrupting the revelation that Arthur had been sitting on Diana’s lasso of Hestia.

“I hate to interrupt the Atlantean so pure he formed a bond between Atlanta and Themyscira, but I’m really not sorry,” you informed them, pulling it shut behind you. “Any fucker care to explain what shit you brought down so hard that the only entities who hate my guts more than his mother just resurrected me?” “(Y/N)!” Diana leapt up to wrap you in her embrace. “You were resurrected by the gods?” “Apollo himself blinded me with his presence,” you answered, carefully avoiding Arthur’s eyes as you looked around the ship, meeting Bruce’s eye. You flicked two fingers between your eyes and his, glaring. “Don’t think you’re off the hook just because I died, Batboy.” “Oof, what did you do?” Barry murmured to the stiffening billionaire. “Who are you?” you asked, curiously, and the boy shrank, mumbling his name. “Sorry, I did not mean to scare you, Barry Allen. I am–” “(Y/N)! I know, you’re amazing.” He slapped a hand over his mouth. “I mean, I mean, you've saved so many lives you probably don’t remember, but I was nine and–” “And almost killed by the same man who killed your mother.” You nodded, solemnly. “I am sorry my testimony did not help your father, Barry.” “It’s not your fault,” he answered, softly. “Thank you.” You smiled, and turned back to Diana. “Hippolyta sends her love,” you offered her, easily. “And the gods, of course, are proud.”

“As touching as all this is,” Arthur piped up, as you finished, bitterness lacing his voice. “Am I not worthy of even a greeting, Ethereum?” You sighed, dropping your head, and turning to him. “Arthur, you must know by now that I did not want to–” He cut you off, roughly, leaping to his feet, even as Diana moved between the two of you, confusion written across her face. “Didn't want to what? Hurt me?” he demanded, angrily. “You did that pretty well when you left! You didn’t even say goodbye!” “She didn’t tell you?” Your voice dropped with your heart. “Who didn’t tell me what?” The tone faded a little, but anger and hurt still radiated off him. “I never wanted to leave you,” you murmured, holding his gaze, evenly. “Atlanna and Hippolyta, they...Atlanna loved you too much to let me ‘corrupt’ you, put you in danger. Only someone truly special can form a bond between two warring women, Arthur Curry.” “What are you saying, (Y/N)?” Diana questioned, lowering her defensive stance, as the two of you lapped into silence, never looking away from one another.

You sank onto one of the seats, with a sigh. “Arthur and I... have history.” “I loved her,” Arthur admitted, still standing, but turning away from them all. “And I him,” you continued, “But Atlanna and Hippolyta disapproved. For entirely different reasons, of course, yet their goal was enough to bring them together. Atlanna told me he didn’t want to see me, and that if I went near him, on land or sea, I would begin another war between the Amazons and Atlanta. Hippolyta insisted I had betrayed the gods by loving him, and forbade me to leave Themyscira. Eris’ reappearance almost seemed like a blessing until she stabbed me in the fucking ribs. Both of us hated it, but I was the one Apollo destined to kill her.” “You killed Eris?” Barry questioned, awed, “As in, literal goddess of strife?” “She is, as far as creation, a daughter of Persephone,” Diana informed him. “What do you mean ‘creation’?” Bruce grimaced, looking between the two. “I was crafted, well, re-crafted, I suppose, from clay,” you responded, scrunching up your nose. “None of your messy human shenanigans.” “We’re here,” the Cyborg at the helm announced. “Stick to the plan!” Bruce called, before diving out of the jet in the Batmobile. “What’s the plan?” you asked, immediately, before shaking your head. “Never mind. Diana, who’s saving his ungrateful ass?” “Barry and I,” she answered, peering out at the Batmobile, now entirely encompassed in Parademons. “You and Arthur help Victor get to the Mother Boxes.” You nodded, turning to the Cyborg. “I assume you’re Victor? Hi, I’m (Y/N), I’ll try to keep you alive.”

“I wish I was dead,” you complained, kicking away Parademons as you and Victor pulled at the Mother Boxes. “Any blow-back?” Clark’s familiar voice asked, as his hand grasped the third side of the Mother Boxes. “Big time,” Victor nodded, grimly, “But I think we can take it.” “Good, because I really like being alive,” Clark smiled, as he pulled the boxes apart. “Speak for yourself,” you moaned, as you slammed into a wall, hovering back to the bridge, where Victor and Clark still lay. You collapsed between them, limbs pulsing with dissipating energy and increasing numbness. “I take it back... I wanna die,” Clark agreed, rolling up to a sitting position. “Man, my toes hurt,” Victor answered, still lying flat on his back. “I don't even understand the physics of how my toes hurt.” All three of you chuckled, dully, as Diana grumbled about your immaturity below. “Welcome back, baby brother.” You stood, holding your hand out to Clark to help him up. “And you,” he smiled back, just as Barry raced back into the room. “Have you guys seen what’s going on outside?” he asked, and you leapt forward, pouncing on Steppenwolf’s huge form before he could strike the small human backwards. “I am the end of worlds!” he howled, scooping you up by the scruff of your neck. “Who are you to defy me?” “Half bred clay monster,” you snapped back, your Kryptonian red eyes burning him until he dropped you, unceremoniously, directly onto Arthur. “This world–” He staggered, Clark and Diana both hitting him at once, as Arthur and you disentangled yourselves from the pile he’d slapped you into. “Is my right!” “My right was to a peaceful death, but you screwed that up for me royally,” you snarled, plunging your sword into his side at the same time Arthur embedded his trident in his chest. “You will never...” he trailed off, as the Parademons swarmed closer. “Smell that?” Bruce queried, smugly, even as he held the consequences of Steppenwolf’s blows. “Fear,” you smirked back, watching Steppenwolf be engulfed by his own creatures, before he vanished back to where he had come from. “Fuck, I only woke up from the dead five hours ago and I am ready for that eternal nap.”

#aquaman x reader #justice league #arthur curry x reader

157 notes · View notes

hurt-care · 6 years

Note

Could you pretty pretty please do wolfstar w sneezekink!Sirius- they’ve been together for awhile but Remus doesn’t know about it yet, and something sets him off on an epic allergy attack and Sirius is losing his mind

Oh man, anon. I hope you’re prepared cause I went for it. I apologize in advance for this filth lol. 18+, if that wasn’t blatantly obvious....

-----

The Order meeting, as usual, was late to start. Hestia Jones' cottage was abuzz with several small groups chattering and sharing the latest intel and catching up after long stretches apart on missions. Sirius, sitting in the corner with James, Lily, and Peter, was looking around distractedly for a familiar face.

“Where's he coming from?” James asked knowingly. “He's not the late type.”

“I don't know,” Sirius growled, scratching at the stubble on his face. “He said he had some business up north and he'd be back by the meeting. He wasn't home by the time I had to leave to get here.”

“He'll be here soon, I'm sure,” Lily said confidently. “Remus would send word if he wasn't going to make it. Besides, isn't the moon tomorrow night? He'll want to be home.”

Almost on cue the front door creaked open and Remus stepped inside.

“Alright, folks,” a voice shouted and the chatter quieted. “Let's get this started.”

Gideon Prewett was standing on a chair, speaking to the assembled crowd. Sirius didn't have time to pull Remus aside as the group all rushed to find seats around the large dining room table. Remus sat down diagonally across the table from Sirius and they met eyes. Remus smiled a small, tired smile and mouthed “hi”. Sirius felt his body flush with heat and he grinned back.

The meeting began but Sirius could not pay attention. Instead, he was watching Remus who was rubbing unconciously at his left eye, turning it pink and bloodshot.

“Stop rubbing” he wanted to say. “You're making it worse.”

Remus looked exhausted and wan from whatever mission that Dumbledore had set him out on. And this close to the moon, he was usually already feeling ill.

There was a soft sniffle from Remus' direction and Sirius caught him wriggling his nose with the back of his wrist. A warm tingling rose up Sirius neck as he thought about taking the man in his arms and holding him close, soothing away all his ills.

And then, it happened. Remus was fumbling in his coat pocket for a familiar blue plaid handkerchief and he raised it to his nose, covering his face.

Ngh-TSCH!

He stifled a sneeze into it and then snapped forward twice more.

Tsh-GXHT! Ghx-TGH!

Sirius' skin burned red-hot and he squirmed in his seat. There had always been something about this gorgeous loss of control that excited him. There was no explanation for how aroused a simple sneeze could make him, especially when it came from Remus. The last time that Remus had been sick, Sirius had spent at least four sessions in their flat's small shower with a silencing charm and his own hand, touching away the intense desire that coursed through him at the very sight of Remus' chapped nose.

Nghh-GHXT!

Sirius squeezed his thighs together, breathing shallowly.

“Bless you!” Lily whispered sweetly from her spot two seats down from Remus. Remus nodded in thanks and pinched the handkerchief aggressively around his nose, wriggling it. Sirius felt his own hips pulse involuntarily. He was going to have to excuse himself if this kept up.

He turned away, wrenching his gaze from Remus and trying to focus on the latest report given by Diggle. A small, congested snort nearly made him turn back but he kept his focus.

The meeting was, thankfully, rather short. Sirius glanced down at his lap, giving himself silent instruction to behave. The last thing he needed was a boner in the middle of an Order meeting. James, for one, would neverlet him live it down.

Still, he thought as Remus headed his way, it might be impossible. The taller man drew nearer and Sirius could tell how red and swollen his eyes were.

“Hey,” he said softly. “What's wrong?”

Remus tucked himself into Sirius' embrace and sighed with a slightly-wheezy exhale.

“I'm allergic to something,” he said hoarsely. “I haven't quite figured out what but it's been setting me off all day.”

Sirius bit his lip and took a deep breath.

“We should get you home then,” he said. Home so they could be alone and so that Sirius could deal with what was again becoming intense need.

Remus sniffled against Sirius shoulder and nodded.

“I guess so,” he agreed, leaning back and rubbing his eyes with a grunt of frustration.

“Don't do that,” Sirius admonished, taking Remus' hand and guiding it up to his lips to kiss it. “You'll make it worse.”

He pressed his lips to Remus' knuckes.

“Say your goodbyes and I'll apparate us out of here.”

Remus nodded and went to find the others while Sirius lingered near the door, idly feining interest in the scene through the front window.

“Okay,” said Remus voice from over his shoulder after a few moments.

Sirius turned and saw Remus looking up at him with pink, swollen eyes and a small drop of moisture pooling under his right nostril. Sirius swallowed hard and reached out to wrap an arm around his boyfriend.

“C'mon,” he said. “I want you all to myself.”

Remus snorted a laugh and pressed his wrist against his nose.

“Sure,” he rasped. “I'm devestatingly handsome right now.”

“You have no idea,” Sirius said, looking down at his feet to hide his blush.

They stepped outside into the spring air and crossed to the apparation point.

“Should I side-along you?” Sirius asked as Remus wiped his nose with his handkerchief (that looked remarkably damp, Sirius noted with a funny pang in his gut at the sight).

“Might be a good idea. I'm never sure when the sneezing might start back up,” Remus said.

Sirius tried not to react to the statement but he felt a throb that told him that if they didn't get home soon, something was going to become pretty awkward about the situation.

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and put his arm around Moony's shoulders, concentrating on the image of their little flat. With a twist, they disappeared and landed in the alley beside their building.

Hurrrh-TSGHH!

Remus bent forward with a throat-scraping sneeze, stumbling into a rubbish bin.

“Moony,” Sirius moaned, unable to keep the desire out of his voice. He took the allergic man into his arms and kissed him deeply.

“Pads,” Remus murmured against Sirius' lips. “I have to---tehhh--”

He broke the kiss, head burying itself against Sirius' shoulder..

Nghh-TGHT!

Sirius felt his knees almost give way.

“Inside,” he said, turning Remus and guiding him around to the front door.

They tumbled into the flat, kicking off shoes and tugging up shirts and almost falling over each other on the way to their bedroom.

“Christ, Pads,” Remus laughed, falling back onto the bed as Sirius pushed him down and climbed on top of him. “I was away for less than a week.”

Sirius leaned in to kiss him.

“I don't care.”

“Sirius...” Remus moaned in warning, pushing the man away. “Hold on. I need...”

He rolled to the side, hands pinching his reddened nose.

Ngh-XHTT!

He stifled with great restraint, almost inaudibly.

Eh-XHTT! Ng'GHXT!

Sirius tugged at the buckle of his pants, unable to take the pressure anymore.

“Merlin, Moony...” he panted, watching the man convulse rhymthmically with the fit. He tugged down his pants and took himself in his hand with a groan.

Remus blinked at him through allergic tears and slowly rose to meet him. They knelt, face-to-face, on the bed.

“What's with you?” Remus asked tenderly, reaching out and pushing Sirius' hand aside, taking him in a familar grip. Sirius' hips strained forward and he whined with desire.

Remus slid his hand deftly and he tucked his head forward, running kisses along Sirius' neck. His damp nose trailed along the stubbled skin as he went. He sniffled and sniffled as he went, soon unable to keep up with the drip of his nose.

“I need a handkerchief,” he said softly. “Can you wait a second?”

Sirius didn't need to be asked twice. He turned his hand over and one appeared with an impressive display of wandless and wordless magic.

“Let me,” he said, carefully folding the soft cloth over Remus' nose. Remus blushed scarlet.

“I...” he stammered, hand slowing on Sirius' cock.

“Blow,” Sirius instructed and Remus obeyed, dampening the handkerchief. As Sirius held his nose gently, Remus felt his own breath rush in and he sneezed into the cloth, unable to contain himself.

Ehh-TSCGHHHT!

Sirius moaned and pressed urgenty into Remus' hand.

Remus tugged his nose away from Sirius' grip and looked at him intently.

“This is driving you wild,” he croaked with a note of humour in his hoarse voice.

“I know,” Sirius moaned. “I'm sorry. I don't know why.”

Remus grinned and pressed his nose with his wrist, sniffling.

“I'm so itchy,” he said huskily, stroking his hand down Sirius' length. Sirius shuddered with pleasure and looked at him with an expression that was both embarrased and aroused.

“Can...can I help?” he stammered.

“Please.”

Gently taking the handkerchief, Sirius twisted a corner and carefully inserted it into Remus' rebelling nose, twirling it and poking at the swollen membranes. Remus gasped, face contorting as the urgent tickling built. He stroked with greater speed, as much as he was able to with the intense distraction of his nose.

“Sirius...” he moaned, breath catching wildly. He took a shuddering inhalation and snapped forward, misting Sirius' bare chest.

Ehh-tsGHXHHT! Nhh-GTHSHTTT! Hehh-SCHOOOO!

Sirius trembled as waves of pleasure rushed through him and he came hard, grunting and shaking and going limp. Remus slumped against him, sniffling madly. He found the cloth in the tangle of sheets and blew his nose with a sigh of relief.

“Merlin, Pads, I think I have to find out what I'm allergic to if this is going to be the reaction it elicits,” he croaked good-naturedly.

Sirius pressed a sleepy kiss to Remus' cheek.

“Don't tease me. I'll plant whatever it is all over the back garden.”

“I guess this is as good a time as ever to tell you that I'm also quite allergic to hemlock pollen. I learned that in potions once.”

Sirius bit his lip, looking at the red-faced, sniffling man in his arms and feeling a rush of affection.

“Add it to the shopping list.”

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progeny-of-the-fury · 6 years

Photo

Killian Learns the Sword: Lesson Three

Log date: 9/28/18

OOC Note: The text in these logs are strictly for the reader’s enjoyment. Anyone using the knowledge displayed within this text without the participant’s knowledge risks the potential of blacklisting from future communication and roleplay. Please do not meta-game!

Tags: @truth-of-the-warden @vilette-laurent

Killian De'bayle steps into the yard with his cane in hand, his blunted sword secured to his belt. As per usual, he sets his cane aside, and removes his bag from where it sits slung over his shoulder, to rest both by the fountain. "Ser Vilette? Are you here?"

Vilette Laurent opened her eyes, before slowly pushing herself up. "I am."

Killian De'bayle: "Hello," Killian greets with a smile. "I--I don't know if you heard, but if you haven't, I should probably warn you...I didn't get to practice as much this time. I had to spend some time recovering from an injury."

Vilette Laurent: "That's fine. Where were you injured?"

Killian De'bayle: "Midsection." Killian lifts a hand as though to indicate the wound, just above his belly button and off to one side. "It's mostly healed now - I removed the stitches a few suns ago. But I was on bedrest and low activity for about a week...I think."

Vilette Laurent nods. "We'll be going at it a bit simpler today. I figured that you can't learn things in the usual order, so I had to shuffle your plan around." Vilette picks up her training swords, before stepping over to Killian, holding one out, pommel first for him. "Sword on your right."

Killian De'bayle lifts a hand to take the weapon. "Thanks. What order do you normally teach things?"

Vilette Laurent: "Now that you've learned to strike, I'd teach you some parries. But those are very reliant on sight, and I'd like to build up your other senses before we begin those."

Killian De'bayle: "Ahh...okay. I've been trying the exercises Master Veve has been trying to help me with, but...I'm really not very good at it."

Vilette Laurent nods. She steps back. "How much have you improved by? Can you sense someone striking at you?"

Killian De'bayle: "Mmh...I could, but if I was paying that much attention to it, I probably wouldn't actually be able to do anything. I already have to split my attention between too many things to try to split it more with that kind of focus..." Killian trails off for a moment. "I can sense where you are. Or Hestia. General positioning. But it's not anymore precise than just listening, or...maybe smelling would be a better comparison. I can sense things that are aetherially wrong with better precision, like voidsent. Those are easy for me to sense."

Vilette Laurent: "We'll build on that, then. But bit by bit. Get into stance, show me a long-point."

Killian De'bayle: "Ahh--alright." Taking his training weapon in both hands, Killian steps forward with his left foot to settle into long point. It's clear there's been some practice in the time since their last lesson, at least; he doesn't seem to struggle as much with fluidly entering into the guard with his knee pointed forward, shoulders low, and blade tip angled at head-height.

Vilette Laurent: "Good. You're entering advanced technique territory here, so if you don't understand anything, be patient, and ask for clarification. But this is what we'll be working on today, and for the next few lessons. Fencing from long-point. And some footwork."

Killian De'bayle: "Fencing and footwork. Okay."

Vilette Laurent assumes a similar stance, shoulders low but pulled back; back straight. She extended her point, letting her blade come into contact with Killian's. The steel hummed pleasantly for a brief moment. Every fight will involve the long-point. Do you remember me saying that?"

Killian De'bayle: "Yes. The nucleus of all fencing," Killian echoes.

Vilette Laurent: "Excellent. One of the most common scenarios you will face, is that you have struck for your opponent, and they have parried, or evaded. You will be in long-point. They may or may not be. That matters little for now, but the important thing to take note is that now, both your blades are in contact. They have -bound-. If they were sharp, the edges tend to bite into one another, locking them softly. But we won't get that sensation with these blunts. Anyway. The distance in which a bind occurs is a distance in which sight no longer matters. It is the distance where the Mind can no longer keep up with your senses. This distance is known as la Guerre; and everyone is blind within it."

Killian De'bayle: "Mmh..." Killian furrows his brows with some confusion.

Vilette Laurent: "You look confused?"

Killian De'bayle: "I do? Ahh...I guess...I don't understand what you mean. The mind not keeping up with the senses and...I didn't know that certain distances make people blind."

Vilette Laurent: "Sight requires people to see."

Killian De'bayle: "Er...right."

Vilette Laurent: "When people with sight try to see at this distance, they technically can, but everything will happen too fast for it to matter. In effect, what they see is irrelevant, and too late to be useful. Therefore, they must rely on other senses. They are blind."

Killian De'bayle: "Oh...that...makes more sense, I think. But you're not really blind. It just...doesn't matter that you can see?"

Vilette Laurent: "... Yes. So. Let's begin."

Killian De'bayle: "I never thought of sight being slow...how come--oh, okay."

Vilette Laurent: "Oh, no. Continue?"

Killian De'bayle: "Um, I just wondered...why the other senses are faster?"

Vilette Laurent: "Don't know. My master used to say that they were connected directly to our Hearts -- and, well. Our guts. Like how when we put our hand over a fire, without thinking, we pull it back."

Killian De'bayle: "Th-that's because it's hot."

Vilette Laurent: "But you don't think about it being hot. Thinking takes time. Feeling doesn't."

Killian De'bayle: "So...it's like...instinct? But...sight isn't instinctive? Doesn't--pretty much everyone rely on sight for everything?"

Vilette Laurent: "Sure. But it's still slow. You were born without sight, correct?"

Killian De'bayle: "Mmh," Killian affirms. "I've never been able to see."

Vilette Laurent: "Then you'll have to take my word for it. And others, as well. The further away you are, the greater advantage sight has. The closer, the less useful it is."

Killian De'bayle: "Um. I don't know how to...take a word."

Vilette Laurent paused for a moment, glancing to the side. "Uh. I meant- meant... Believe me. Trust me."

Killian De'bayle: "Oh...what does that have to do with taking words?"

Vilette Laurent: "... Good question. Just one of those sayings. Shall we begin?"

Killian De'bayle: "Oh. Okay, yes. I'm ready, I think. What should I be doing?"

Vilette Laurent: "Relax. Take a deep breath. Try to feel the blade like it's part of your arm. See if you can feel the weight of mine, resting on the weak of your blade."

Killian De'bayle: "Uhh...okay..." Killian tightens his grip on his hilt for a brief moment. It's obvious that Vilette has lost him on the "part of your arm" bit.

Vilette Laurent: "Loosen your grip. You won't be able to feel the vibrations if you tighten."

Killian De'bayle loosens his grip as instructed, smiling ruefully. "Sorry."

Vilette Laurent: "Good. Can you feel my blade?" Vilette just held her sword against Killian's.

Killian De'bayle: "Um..." Killian twitches his weapon a little with a soft scrape of the weapons against each other. "Yes."

Vilette Laurent: "Good. You have the right idea. Apply a bit of pressure."

Killian De'bayle: "To what?"

Vilette Laurent: "The more pressure from either party, the easier it is to feel. Your blade to mine, like this." Vilette angles her blade slightly to apply a bit of pressure to Killian's blade. Nothing impossible to fight against, but enough to know Vilette is still there.

Killian De'bayle pushes his blade against Vilette's more firmly - incidentally, at the same time as

Vilette does similarly. "Yes. I can feel it. Good. Now, the moment you no longer feel me in the bind, Or if you feel that I have left it, I want you to step in and thrust me to the face or neck. Can you do that?"

Killian De'bayle: "From...long point?"

Vilette Laurent: "Yes. Step in to do so, raise your shoulders, thrust up and forward."

Killian De'bayle: "But...it's not one of the thrusting guards."

Vilette Laurent: "Why is a thrusting guard a thrusting guard?"

Killian De'bayle: "Um...I...I don't know. The hilt is drawn back to the sides in the thrusting guards..."

Vilette Laurent: "Because it has its point forward, and therefore, allows you to thrust, no?"

Killian De'bayle: "Oh." Killian flushes red in the face. "I suppose...that's obvious."

Vilette Laurent: "... And the long-point also has its point forward, and allows you to thrust. The difference is the long-point is extended."

Killian De'bayle: "Right. Sorry..."

Vilette Laurent: "Here, you will not be able to put much power into it."

Killian De'bayle: "Extended...because my arms are already straight?"

Vilette Laurent: "Therefore, you will rely on your weight and speed-. Yes. But you still have room to extend more. If you lean in and turn your right hip towards the target."

Killian De'bayle: "I...think...I understand."

Vilette Laurent: "You ready, then?"

Killian De'bayle: "Yes."

Vilette Laurent nods. She then immediately raises her sword into a high sky guard, as if getting ready to cut down at Killian! The steel sings from the motion!

Once Killian detects his weapon's freedom, he tries a forward thrust as instructed, raising his shoulders and aiming somewhere around Vilette's head and neck - his aim is not very precise. He steps through with the motion, leaning in with the turn of his body to add momentum to the strike. "Hah!" he shouts.

The safety-point of the weapon finds purchase on something hard -- despite catching on her sternum. "Don't just stop there, when you thrust, really drive the point in. Shove me! With your point!"

Killian De'bayle: "But...won't I hurt you?"

Vilette Laurent: "I'm wearing armour."

Killian De'bayle: "Hmm...okay," Killian says, stepping back again and returning to long point. "So...I didn't thrust hard enough?"

Vilette Laurent: "No, no, put your point back where it was. I just want you to lean into it and push."

Killian De'bayle: "You want me to...put it back against your armor?"

Vilette Laurent: "Yes. And push. To get used to the feeling of it. When you land the thrust, you push yourself into it."

Killian De'bayle steps forward again, trying to re-find the position he was in when he finished his previous thrust. He meets with limited success. "H-here?"

Vilette Laurent reaches up to guide the point back to where it was. "There we go. Now," she braces herself. This always sucked. "Push."

Killian De'bayle grits his teeth and shoves forward as instructed, another shout accompanying the effort. He does not go easy - in fact, he probably overdoes it - apparently trusting Vilette's previous reassurances.

Vilette Laurent stumbles back, silent for a brief moment before shouting: "Good! Reset." She reaches out with her blade, ready to make contact with Killian's.

Killian De'bayle: "Reset," Killian echoes, stepping back into longpoint again. "Are you okay?"

Vilette Laurent: "... Absolutely. This time, I will be moving back and forth."

Killian De'bayle: "Back and forth?"

Vilette Laurent: "I will either move forward or backwards. You will need to feel it, and use all your senses to discern whether I have left the bind or am stepping away. And if you feel as if I am thrusting towards you, I would like you to push my sword away. And still, when you feel like you can, thrust. Understand?"

Killian De'bayle: "I'm not wearing armor," Killian says quickly. "Sh-should I go get mine?"

Vilette Laurent: "Not necessary. I will not really be thrusting. I will be stepping towards you."

Killian De'bayle: "Mmh...I'll try," Killian says uncertainly.

Vilette Laurent: "If I step back, you step forward after me." Vilette steps back, blades lightly scraping against one another from the motion.

Killian De'bayle frowns at the scrape of movement, then takes a hesitant step forward. There's no thrust to accompany it, or any other action - his focus is clearly torn, perhaps more so than one might expect, as he tries to pay attention both toward the feel of the scraping blades and the sound of Vilette's steps.

A good decision! Vilette's sword was still 'there'. But not for long. She raises it high to prepare for a cut!

Killian De'bayle || With no footsteps to listen for, it seems easier for Killian to detect just the movement of Vilette's blade, and he steps through with another thrust. His aim is a little higher this time - though whether by accident or intent is difficult to tell - and once again leans into the turn to extend his reach, trying to push hard against her as she instructed last time. "Hah!"

The point lands on Vilette's mask, glancing right! She lowers her sword to go and brace Killian from falling past her. "Good. Aim a little left, try to respond quicker to my release." She gently nudges him back.

Killian De'bayle: "I--I'll try." Killian sounds much less certain than he did a few moments ago. "It's hard to remember moving and listening and feeling and attacking all at once."

Vilette Laurent: "That's why we're practicing." Vilette steps back, making blade contact again. She then, after a brief moment, lowers her sword.

Killian De'bayle remains utterly still for a beat before his face turns red again. "I--I'm not sure what you're doing," he admits. "I'm not sure where your sword went."

Vilette Laurent: "... So... I'm open."

Killian De'bayle lowers his own sword to sweep it down in front of him, more akin to checking his space with his cane than wielding a blade. "I...I'm sorry," he says, flustered. "I got confused."

Vilette Laurent: "Back to long-point. When you feel that I'm open, thrust. If you take too long, your opening will be gone."

Killian De'bayle raises his weapon again back into long point. "But if I think that you're thrusting...try to knock your weapon aside? Is it...when you move forward?"

Vilette Laurent: "Yes." Vilette returned into contact -- and after a moment, did the same thing. She lowered her sword.

Killian De'bayle: "Okay. I...okay." Killian pauses when Vilette's blade contacts his, and then - when the contact fades - steps into another thrust He does apparently remember to aim a little left this time! But his distractions from his previous failure means his form is somewhat lacking in power.

Vilette Laurent stepped back from the thrust; the ridge of her helmet having directed the point into her neck. She rubbed at it slightly, before nodding. "Good. Again."

Killian De'bayle: "Mmh." Killian steps back once again and returns to long point!

Vilette Laurent steps back into distance, and establishes contact! She steps back once.

Killian De'bayle follows Vilette's retreat somewhat awkwardly, his expression grim with determination.

Vilette Laurent stepped back yet again!

Killian De'bayle tilts his head a little and continues to follow Vilette's next backstep.

Vilette Laurent raises her sword high.

Killian De'bayle thrusts forward and upward in response, pushing through with the strike! His aim could still use a bit of work, but at least he recognized the opening? "Hah!"

Vilette Laurent 's attack is successfully interrupted! She stumbles back, and lowers her sword. "Excellent! We'll stop here for today, and build more on this next week."

Killian De'bayle: "Ahh...okay. That's...that's good." Killian lowers his weapon and rubs his stomach. "Sorry I was--I don't feel like...I did as well. I'll practice harder this week."

Vilette Laurent: "It's fine. This specific part is… Hard to master quickly. We'll do some more next week, before we combine this with your cuts."

Killian De'bayle: "How should I practice now? I don't have anyone to practice with."

Vilette Laurent: "... I'll find you a practice partner for this. But it's not an easy thing to practice alone. And your cuts. And learn to step back and forth quickly."

Killian De'bayle: "Okay. I'll work on that."

Vilette Laurent: "Good."

Killian De'bayle: "Thank you for the lesson, Ser Vilette." Killian offers the training blade back.

Vilette Laurent takes it steps aside. "It's my pleasure, my lord." She then headed over to the door, passing by Hestia. She gives her a nod and a smile.

Hestia De'bayle offers the woman a nod of greeting in return before turning to Killian. “Do not feel discouraged, Killian. You were resting a great while, and we have had a preoccupied sennight."

Killian De'bayle: "It's hard to focus on a lot of things at once," Killian mumbles. "What if I can't learn it because it's too much?"

Hestia De'bayle: "Only you can allow that to be the case, Killian. I believe in. Nogelle does as well. It is not too much. You are a talented man."

Killian De'bayle: "Mmh..." Killian hums uncertainly. He reaches out to touch Hestia's face in a gesture of affection, nonetheless. "Ready to go home?"

Hestia De'bayle returns the gesture with a gentle smile. "Of course," she steps closer, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

#Journal #Age of Dawn and Dusk

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madaraism · 6 years

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Aletheia - Part III of Himeros

Αλήθεια ; Of remembering and uncovering secrets.

A/N: A mega big Australian thank you to @hellospunkiebrewster for helping me out with the finer details of New York life. Thank you everyone for all your comments, likes and reblogs. I read all of your comments and they become such a strong motivation for me to keep writing. Please read the previous parts here:

Part I - Himeros // Part II - Algea // Part IV - Apate // Part V - Hestia // Part VI - Achlys

Summary: A Queen will always turn pain into power for the sake of her country.

Pairing: Liam x Riley, Liam x Madeleine, implied Leo x Madeleine

Rating: Mature (themes and language)

Words: 4873

Inspirations for this chapter – Consequences by Camila Cabello

Tag List: @theroyalweisme @hhiggs @itzmequeenb @alicars @cocomaxley @blackcatkita @trianiasti @viktoriapetit @umccall71 @topsyturvy-dream @kawairinrin @jayjay879 @bobasheebaby @choiceswreckedme @queencatherynerhys @laniquelove @philiasperanza @hopefulmoonobject @mfackenthal @hellospunkiebrewster @boneandfur @gracepedia @alwaysmychoices

Riley settles her exhausted self onto the disagreeable couch in her living room. She takes the time to allow her eyes to wander around the small apartment.

She was forever thankful of herself not being swept up by the expenses and the noble life that she had with the Beaumont Brothers and their luxe estate. Whilst her apartment was small, she was proud with herself for being able to support herself despite the quick, unexpected changes within the past years.

Living in Cordonia seemed so long ago, yet she still remembers how being in such a grand country felt like, and somehow, New York was no longer the city of dreams that she once loved wholeheartedly.

After the grief of leaving Liam for New York had momentarily subsided when she had boarded the plane back home, she had found herself struck by the endless waves of anxiety.

Countless thoughts had raced through her head, all of which included factors that she had not spent time considering.

She remembers sitting in her airplane seat, finding herself in between quiet, hysterical sobs and anxious nail biting as she tries to calm herself down.

She had wondered where she could possibly stay once she landed. Her immediate family had passed, and any other distant relatives stayed on the other side of The States.

She had wondered what she would have to do to earn money again. The countless ballgowns, formal dresses and expensive designer outfits that served to please the court, crowd and press over the last few months had taken an expensive and heavy dent out of her bank account.

And for the briefest moment, she remembers thinking if the gossip of her life as the King’s whore would’ve reached New York as well.

She remembers the taste of metal in her mouth as she had bitten through the skin on her lip out of nervousness.

She places a trembling hand on her belly, struggling to remember how to breathe in order to calm herself down.

Life before Cordonia was already difficult as she remembers having to balance her studies and work.

And now that there was an extra pair of mouth to feed…

She remembers squeezing her eyes shut and breathing deeply. She tries with every might that she had to recall what life was like before she met Liam. Before she thought her life had changed for the better.

And she recalls minute after minute, what living in and being a New Yorker meant.

She recalls the different jobs that she has had to endure – from waitressing to being a college assistant, from a sales representative to a front desk greeter…

She swallows nervously at the uncertainty of the path in front of her, and she wonders how she even had the energy back then to attend multiple jobs in one single day.

She remembers rubbing her stomach and fiddling with the ring that Liam had given her.

She tries not to think of his peaceful, smiling face in the dingy bar that she had worked at.

Instead, she remembers thinking back to Daniel’s face. The mirth in his green eyes each time they would playfully and secretly attempt scissors-paper-rock to decide who will throw out the trash for that night or flip a coin to decide who would wait the rowdy group of drunk teens who had recently turned 21.

She remembers him complaining every waking day of summer, how if he must be working, would much rather be working on a cruise than be stuck in the gloomy indoors with inconsiderate inebriates.

She remembers swallowing thickly, her fingers still absentmindedly playing with the ring – she hopes that Daniel hasn’t forgotten about her, and perhaps can pull some favours out of him and let her sleep on his couch for a night or two.

So – Riley now sits proudly on her highly uncomfortable sofa.

New York is not a cheap city to live in.

She remembers starting out with multiple jobs over the span of the week, all pulled from favours and past connections from everywhere.

They were not the best paying jobs, but it allowed her to gain some sort of footing in The Big Apple while she lived on the bare necessities.

Now that things were slightly more stable, she was able to cut down on some of her nightly shifts to look after little one-year-old Levi.

She knows she has plenty to be thankful of so far, from her bosses being kind and considerate of the situation that she was in, to Daniel for putting up with her until she was able to get her own place to call home.

Her head turns to the phone next to her that had started ringing.

She smiles softly at the caller ID.

Out of everyone in Cordonia, Hana is the only one that Riley has fully kept in contact with, even if it was over half a year of persistent emails and calls.

She had found her heart grow weak at her desperate attempts and remembers how she broke under pressure one evening as she answers Hana’s millionth call that day.

She remembers how she had spent an hour crying into the phone with nothing to say.

She remembers finally giving in and telling her about her and Liam’s baby growing in her stomach.

And she remembers how calm, collected and supportive Hana has been over the months, calling her even more regularly to make sure she was taking her vitamins and making sure she was getting to her check ups throughout her pregnancy.

She remembers the nights that she would cry on the phone to her as she shares the first moments that she has with her baby – she recalls to Hana her first sonogram, she recalls to her the first time she finds out the gender of the baby and she recalls to her the first time she feels little Levi’s kicks in her belly.

She remembers every moment and every emotion that she encounters throughout her pregnancy. She remembers the low nights where she would whimper into the phone, wishing Liam was there with her by her side.

And she remembers how even more terrified she felt when the contractions started and how it seemed like everyone else around her in the maternity ward had someone accompanying the panting mother-to-be’s, and she was all alone, clutching at her own stomach with no one to hold on to.

She remembers how much she wished Liam was there to soothe the pain as the nurses told her to push. How she wished with every fibre of her being for Liam to be there to hold her hand, to encourage her and to wipe away the sweat on her face.

And she remembers all the little milestones that Levi has reached over the past year – his first cries for her embrace when he was a newborn, the first time that he opens his bleary eyes to look up at a beautiful smile of his mother, her face sweaty from delirious exhaustion and her own eyes filled with tears, the first time his tiny little hand wrapped their fingers around her index finger, his first crawls and first steps, his first words being ‘mama’…

Her heart aches even now when her mind lingers over in the dark place a little longer than she would’ve liked – she finds herself imagining Liam sharing these private, intimate moments with Madeleine when she announces to him that she is pregnant with their heir.

She can still feel Madeleine’s metaphorical cold hands wrapping around her throbbing heart through the unsympathetic smiles of victory painted on her face each day.

She had worked so hard to create a safe haven for herself and for Levi in their tiny apartment nestled in such a big, busy city.

And she was proud to have made it this far.

…

But now for her to actually hear the words from Hana’s mouth, to actually see Madeleine’s positively smug face standing at her door shoved her deep into the darkness that she would refuse her mind to wander into for long.

Reality can be harsh, and it bites and nips at your existence until you are no more.

Worry runs through Riley as she stands at the entranceway to her safe haven. Her body acts as a shield that blocks out the coldness of the outside world.

Defensive.

She hopes with everything in her that the Queen of Cordonia was not after her sleeping four-year-old.

She had hoped by simply running away from the source of the problem would serve as a big enough peace offering.

Perhaps not.

“…Madeleine,” She starts, not at all startled with the surprise laced in her voice.

Aside from the obvious and expected shock, Madeleine notes how Riley has grown thinner over the years. Her hollows of her cheek were slightly more prominent now, the exhaustion playing as an underlying feature on her body. Her sweatpants and sweater clung on to her even smaller frame, making it seem like they were wearing her, instead of the other way around.

Madeleine purses her lips as she moves her eyes back to meet hers.

‘Your Majesty,’ She wants to correct her.

Unimpressed with Riley’s lack of presentable attire and the use of adequate titles, Madeleine looks expectantly over her shoulder, expecting to be let in.

Madeleine can see a shadow of ridiculousness sweep over Riley’s face. Her mouth was open once more as if ready to retort at her expectant gaze.

She speaks before she can interrupt. “I don’t intend to stay for long, if that’s what you’re thinking. New York has a … peculiar smell.” She doesn’t stop herself from wrinkling her nose slightly. “…My only intention is to talk to you.”

Riley closes her mouth for what seemed like the tenth time. She looks around once more, weighing the pros and cons in her mind.

If she were going after Levi, she supposed that Madeleine would’ve brought with her a few more henchmen to do the dirty work.

And considering she was travelling alone… Riley hesitates, before stepping aside to let her in.

Riley doesn’t take any chances though. As soon as she closes the door behind the both of them, she swiftly flips down the frame that contained a picture of Levi and herself on the side table next to the door. She crosses her fingers and hopes that babysitting would be an adequate excuse for the small collection of toys over in the corner.

She eyes Madeleine’s uncomfortable frame that perched on the plastic beige chair of her small dining table from the open kitchen as she made two cups of tea.

It certainly seemed a drastic change for her. From being a Queen living in a lavish castle, with large rooms and grand ceilings, and lush, comfortable chairs… to a small apartment in New York.

Her wardrobe is probably bigger than this whole place. Riley rolls her eyes slightly before settling down the cups in front of them, making herself comfortable on the opposite side of Madeleine.

She finds it almost enjoyable to watch the hidden disgust in her face as she uses serviettes after serviettes to wipe the surrounding space and the cup in front of her – that is if she wasn’t reminded of the child growing in Madeleine’s body by the way she would occasionally press her hand against her stomach.

Riley takes a sip of the tea and returns the expectant look at Madeleine.

If she wanted to come all this way to speak, then I’ll allow her the time to speak.

Time seems to stop for Madeleine however. She allows the air around them become quiet, stuffy and awkward.

It is odd for her to find solace in such a dingy place so far from home. Her hands hug the cup in front of her, face not showing a single care in the world as Riley continues to stare.

Riley however, felt like Madeleine was a ticking time bomb in her home. Her eyes would dart over to the clock in the corner on occasion, helplessly praying that Levi would not wake up from his nap any time soon.

She decides to start.

“…Um. Congratulations.” She feels her green eyes bore into her soul. “On your pregnancy. Hana told me…”

Silence and continual stares.

Riley swallows almost nervously at the awkward situation in front of her. Her own voice is weak, barely audible. “…Liam must be happy.”

Madeleine’s green eyes finally moves away from her face as she takes a sip from the cup, lips curling slightly at the lack of intensity and flavour of the tea.

When her green eyes settle back on the woman again, they are calculating.

During the social season, Madeleine had already marvelled in part disgust at how such a commoner could poise themselves to be so ready and presentable to the daily pushes and pulls of court, press expectations, and facilitating for the public.

She had always thought she had the upper hand when she compared herself with all the other ladies that sought after Liam’s hand. Her bloodline, her training, her stoic personality and the guts to withstand everything for the sake of Cordonia.

Yet here Riley was. Some woman who sat in front of her showed the Cordonian people how to take the reins the American way.

Perhaps it was sheer luck.

Perhaps it was sheer determination.

She scoffs lightly to herself.

Riley was growing tired. She still had a shift to get to later on, groceries to buy and she had to drop Levi off to Daniel for the night. If she came all this way for a shit cup of tea… “Look, Madeleine, I’ve still got to get to work-”

“I’m stepping down as Queen.” Madeleine’s eyes were colder than anything Riley had ever experienced.

Her eyebrows were raised as she took time to process Madeleine’s words.

“What?”

Yet there are times when she proves herself to be everything but suitable. Madeleine wrinkles her nose in light distaste. She repeats herself once more, her voice unanimated.

“But aren’t you pregnant? You have what Regina wants… You have what Cordonia needs.” Riley stumbles her way through her own words, disbelief plain on her face.

Did something happen? Did Regina say something? What is Liam thinking?

“…”

When the King followed the royal physician out of the room and she had finished wiping the tears out of her eyes, Madeleine stares at nothing in particular.

The tightness in her heart and the fire burning away at her twisted insides was not a comfortable feeling.

She runs a hand through her blonde curls with frustration, green eyes concentrated on a singular spot on the carpet.

She knew being the Queen would be hard, but she had never expected how unpredictable and how unrealistic Liam could be. She had never expected how shunned away Liam could make her feel.

Leo was supposed to be the unpredictable one. The one who refused to prioritise his country over his own selfish needs to be adventurous and to explore.

Her nails on her other hand digs into her own palm, thin, crescent-like shapes appearing on her skin.

Madeleine thought she had the game in the bag right at the start when she was presented as a candidate for Liam’s social season.

Yet when that woman appeared…

Madeleine’s gaze lingered on the whiskey cup that had graced the King’s lips just moments before.

Yet when she appeared… the straight path of her future that was promised, that was expected, turned into a race up the Mount Everest of Liam’s heart and mind with an avalanche messing up her carefully planned path.

Madeleine may have won the fight, but Riley had won the war in the most unpredictable way.

She had no trouble sleeping with Liam, for the sake of Cordonia, for the sake of stability, for the sake of producing an heir.

But when he calls out Riley’s name, Madeleine claws at the sheets – not from pleasure and not from love, but from newfound anguish, jealousy and disgust.

She had thought that over the years he would tire of Riley. Now that the American had run away, he would move on and refocus his attention back to what was important.

But no. Each night when they are finished, she would cling on to the sink in her bathroom while Liam leaves her room to retrieve back into his own.

She would stare at the sad reflection in front of her, lipstick smeared, remnants of her mascara darkening the edges of her eyes, her usual perfect hair tousled up out of frustration and resentment.

Its fascinating to her how irritated she had gotten over such a small, useless matter.

She picks up the damned glass that Liam was holding prior and flings it at the wall, not caring about the quiet gasps from the palace workers.

She leaves for the only thing that her mind can think of, the emerald chiffon material of her dress a whirlwind trailing behind her.

...

His brown eyes were full of mocking laughter when Madeleine steps into his room.

His arms are wide open, sarcastic and contemptuous, awaiting the hug from her that he never receives.

“Maddy,” Neville starts, smug. “My beautiful Queen. The last time you looked this frustrated was when you were on my bed begging for me.”

“Shut up.” She half snarls, roughly tugging at his red tie and tossing it onto the floor.

“Hey now, slow down.” She wanted to wipe that disgusting grin off his face.

“Shut up.” She repeats again, the buttons from his dress shirt popping off as she pulls his shirt off.

“Darling, that was Versace.” He chuckles, not particularly offended.

“Shut up.” She pushes him down onto his bed, not caring if she had hurt him or not.

He snickers, looking up at her angry form – it wasn’t something he usually found attractive in women, but with Madeleine, it was captivating. It was something that Hana could not compete with.

“Did our sorry King not please you adequately again?”

She slaps him hard across his cheek, green eyes narrowing. “Shut. Up.”

The smug smirk never leaves his face. He rubs his cheeks as if it was the norm.

“Alright.” He croons, voice sickeningly sweet. Neville swiftly changes their positions as he pulls her down, forcing her onto all fours on the bed. His rough hand pulls her dress up and over her ass, the other in a tight fist around her hair, pulling her back into him as he fucks her.

She allows him to be in control.

When Liam sleeps with her, he will call out Riley’s name.

When Madeleine sleeps with Neville, she will call out Leo’s name.

The irony from the mess of it all… she didn’t know if she should laugh or not.

Her frustration with Liam grew over the years.

She takes it out on Neville, who doesn’t particularly mind as long as he was getting laid.

When she finds out that she is pregnant, she is not surprised.

Riley stares dumbfounded at the blonde before her.

“You’re stepping down? Because you’re pregnant?” She repeats, almost stupidly.

Madeleine’s stare is unfaltering. Her face was bland, much like the situation that she was in.

“Yes. Cordonia needs the stability from the monarchy, and their Queen being pregnant with another man’s child that is not the King’s is not a viable situation to put the country into.” Madeleine’s voice is oddly neutral, which surprises even herself.

She expected more emotion when she had realised the situation she was in, but then again, she supposes it was her own wrongdoing and misfortune for not being more compliant with Liam.

Still, she was bitter, and realistically, there was no one to blame but herself.

“My child cannot be the heir to the throne.” Madeleine finishes bluntly. Her voice is dull and her posture has wilted slightly in the plastic chair.

Multiple questions run through Riley’s head. Her mind is racing, an almost annoying buzz as she tries to process the information that Madeleine was so calmly feeding her.

What did this mean for her?

What does this mean for Cordonia?

Her stomach churns slightly, knots forming – How was Liam taking in all of this?

During this time, Madeleine keeps her eyes on her, observing. She wonders how she will handle this situation – and her small laugh to herself lacked colour and body.

Riley’s mind was not processing fast enough for court – she was rusty, considering she has been away for so long.

She wonders how long until she will take before she catches on.

So she prompts her.

“I’m stepping down before the public realises the situation I’m in. This means a divorce. With Liam.” Her eyes are still glued to her face, trained to read how the gears in people’s mind turns. “I intend to let Liam know that this child of mine is not his when I arrive back in Cordonia. He will need a new Queen to support him during his reign as King, be it from another social season or-”

“…Me.” Riley finishes for her, her voice soft. A simple, singular word, yet it is already weighted with the responsibilities, worries and complications of the crown. Her eyes wander over to the door where Levi was sleeping.

Levi is the crown prince of Cordonia.

And she realises quickly that she cannot become Queen, not when…

“But… Tariq.” She mutters, more so to herself than to Madeleine.

It is only then does Madeleine makes big movements since stepping into Riley’s apartment. She reaches down to the leather travel bag that sits next to her feet and pulls out a clearly labelled and alphabetically organised file.

She begins to explain when Riley finds herself going through extensive notes, research, and photographs on the very man that has put her in this mess.

“The situation that you were in may have been set up by Constantine and Tariq may have been unwilling to help you.” Madeleine shows every aspect of concentration and fluidity when talking factual. “However – and not very surprisingly, the sleaze was found in a similar situation a few years back. It was not a set up. My research and evidence show that he was very happy to pay money to keep things quiet.”

Riley moves her gaze up from the notes to Madeleine’s face and finds that familiar cold, manipulative smile on her red lips.

She meets her gaze and looks away almost immediately. “Of course, what you want to do with this information is up to you. However, a serious enough threat like this does a bigger damage to him than just his nobility. He will lose everything, beginning with his credibility as a respected man when it comes to business deals.”

“Why are you helping me?” Riley finds herself blurting out.

She found herself in a weird predicament. A few years ago, she was going head to head with the very woman sitting opposite her. It then moved to her being in the shadows, avoiding the same woman, and now, here she was in a completely different situation, sitting in her apartment in New York, providing evidence that could turn her life around.

The different emotions from within was starting to drown her.

“…I’m not helping you.” Madeleine stares at her, almost ridiculing her for speaking of something so unheard of in her family. “Cordonia is my home, and I love my home more than anything or anyone. Whether Liam chooses you to become his next Queen or not, is up to both your actions and his decision. I just find myself preferring you to be Queen than Olivia.”

Madeleine starts to stand up, having enough of the weak excuse of tea. It had already been a weird enough trip for her – coming all the way from Cordonia to such a crowded, complicated city. She questions how people can even possibly live here.

Riley stands up after her, “Madeleine, I… I’m not sure I can be Queen. Even if I were to clear the situation with Tariq, my reputation will still be tarnished.”

‘Imagine what Regina will say’, she implies. She can already feel the Queen Mother’s brown eyes burning into her, full of judgement, disagreement and disappointment, voice tutting.

And what about Levi? What will she say about him?

A child out of wedlock… its like feeding ravenous sharks.

And at that moment, Levi’s bedroom door opens. His small figure emerges, hands rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “Mom…?”

The second Madeleine’s eyes gazes upon the four-year-old, she understands the similarity of the situation that she somehow found herself to be in.

Months of scorning Riley’s commoner roots and questionable actions, she finds herself in the very same situation.

She feels the familiar churning in her stomach, her heart feeling like its collapsing upon itself.

Riley can give Cordonia the one thing that I cannot.

Pitiful.

She curses at herself in her mind.

Madeleine speaks to no one in particular before Riley can. Her green eyes linger on the small pair of dark ones.

“Character speaks much more strongly than reputation. Reputation can be rebuilt, especially if it was never meant to be burnt down to begin with. And… a King that is worthy to lead his people and to shape history takes an adequate amount of years to train for. …It’s not a role that can be given to anyone overnight, nor is it worth making hasty decisions for.”

Riley understands the meaning and the weight behind Madeleine’s words. She is not convinced with herself that she will make a good Queen, and Levi was definitely still too young to be making life changing decisions.

She nibbles on her bottom lip and makes sure that her words are out of Levi’s earshot.

“Don’t tell Liam about him when you see him… Please… I’ll… I’ll do that in my own time.”

It takes a while for Madeleine to reply with a stiff nod.

When Madeleine leaves the apartment, she feels like a portion of the weight has been lifted off of her shoulders.

Riley may not think Levi is ready to know his roots, but Madeleine could already see the maturity behind his eyes.

She climbs into the car waiting for her, a hand on her flat stomach.

She does not feel like she has made a wrong decision.

Cordonia was, and always will be, the reason for her actions.

Sensible. Predictable. Contained.

It was the only way that she could punish herself for ruining her own chances of maintaining her role as Cordonia’s Queen.

A life in confinement. A life in solitude. A life away from the peering eyes of the public and the press.

For Cordonia.

Liam does not feel angry, shocked or disappointed when Madeleine breaks to him that her pregnancy is not the result of his actions.

If anything, he is thankful that she is responsible for her actions, taking control of the situation before the press catches on and before they have given an official statement that claims the child being theirs.

He feels a slither of hope in his heart for the first time in a few years as he reads Riley’s address on a small piece of card that Bastien had given him two years ago.

And he now sits in his limo, parked outside the worn down building that Riley was supposedly staying at.

Liam closes his eyes, a smile playing on his lips. He allows his mind to linger on the distant memory of her face, the softness of her skin, the musical tones of her voice, the way her body melded so comfortably into his own when they embraced, the look in her eyes when he stared into them.

He wonders if she will still look at him with such tenderness and love in her eyes.

And he feels like a little child again, with butterflies in his stomach as he sat there waiting for her to show up.

Full of nervousness, yet so full of excitement.

He makes a promise to himself to be calm and collected when he sees her.

And he breaks that promise when he sees her walking down the street towards her building a few hours later.

He finds himself bounding up towards her, his arms like magnets towards her body, pulling her into a tight embrace, afraid that she might run away from him once more.

When he manages to contain his emotions just enough to pull back to look at her face, he isn’t surprised when they both have tears.

Liam pushes her hair off her face, his hands so tender when he cups her cheek to admire her, drinking in every second of her presence.

“My love…” He is breathless as he blinks away the tears in his eyes, cursing at them for clouding up his vision in the first place. “Oh, my love… I’ve missed you. More than you could ever imagine…”

Riley misses the feeling of his face pressed into the crook of her neck almost instantly. Her voice matches his breathless one as she finally finds herself able to speak.

“Liam…”

Part 4: Apate

#liam x mc #king liam #the royal romance #king liam of cordonia #liam x riley #playchoices #playchoices fanfic #choices: the royal romance #choices: stories you play #joey writes choices #joey writes #have i redeemed myself yet

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