#there's. apollo. my twin. across the room
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antinousletmehit · 6 months ago
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Apollo and his lover got into an argument which he regrets deeply but reader is very mad at him and won't forgive him easily.The whole Olympus tries to get them together because they're fed up with Apollo's sad love poets and songs.
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୨୧┇Apollo x reader
────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ───
The great halls of Olympus were rarely silent. Gods bickered, muses sang, and the sound of nectar filled goblets clinking together echoed endlessly. But this particular week had been… different. It wasn’t the usual chorus of divine rivalry that filled the air. Instead, a melancholic voice, rich and golden, reverberated through the celestial mount, dragging everyone down with its relentless woe.
Apollo was heartbroken.
He sat on the steps of his golden temple, his lyre in hand, his head bowed as he sang yet another mournful ballad about his lover. She had refused to speak to him after a bitter argument, one involving—according to Hermes, who’d gleefully eavesdropped—a misunderstanding about Apollo’s ego and her need for space.
“I burn brighter than the sun itself,
But her light I cannot see.
Oh, cruel fates, to steal her love,
And leave her silence haunting me…”
“By the Styx, someone make him stop!” Hera groaned, massaging her temples as Apollo’s lament drifted into the great hall. “He’s been singing that same verse for three days straight.”
“And it’s getting worse,” Ares grumbled, leaning against his spear. “I’m this close to starting a war just to drown him out.”
Hestia, ever the voice of reason, frowned. “We can’t let him continue like this. He’s hurting.”
“And we’re suffering,” Poseidon interrupted, shaking his trident for emphasis. “Even my sea nymphs are complaining about hearing his sobs through the waves. My ocean, for gods’ sake.”
“Alright, everyone,” Athena said, standing up and raising a hand to silence the growing complaints. “Apollo’s our brother. He needs help. Instead of whining, let’s figure out how to fix this.”
“Fix it?” Hermes snorted, lounging on the armrest of her throne. “Good luck. The only thing that will shut him up is making up with his lover, and she won’t even look at him.”
Zeus, seated at the head of the hall, finally spoke. “Then we’ll have to make her listen.”
All eyes turned to him, surprise flickering across their faces. It wasn’t often that the King of the Gods intervened in romantic squabbles, but it was clear that even Zeus couldn’t endure another hour of Apollo’s sob songs.
“Who agrees?” Zeus asked, raising a commanding brow. One by one, every god and goddess in the room nodded. For once in their immortal lives, Olympus was united.
———-
The plan was set into motion that very evening. Each god took on a task, pooling their talents to create an elaborate display of apology that Apollo could deliver to his lover.
Aphrodite crafted a wreath of the finest roses, their petals shimmering like rubies under the starlight. “No mortal or immortal can resist the charm of my flowers,” she said smugly, twirling one between her fingers. Hephaestus forged a delicate necklace of golden threads, inlaid with tiny opals that shimmered with every color of the sky. Hermes wrote a letter, overflowing with poetic charm, and tucked it into a golden envelope. “This will sweep her off her feet,” he said, grinning. “No offense to Apollo, but I’ve got more flair for words.”
Even Dionysus contributed, brewing a wine so sweet and rich that a single sip could soothe the angriest heart. “Pair it with the necklace, and she’ll be wrapped around his finger,” he joked, handing the flask to Hera. Meanwhile, Athena and Artemis tried to coax Apollo into proper behavior. Artemis, his twin sister, stood before him with her arms crossed. “You’re embarrassing yourself,” she said bluntly. “If you want her back, stop singing about how miserable you are and do something about it.”
Apollo looked up from his lyre, his face streaked with golden tears. “But what if she doesn’t forgive me? What if I’ve lost her forever?” Athena placed a hand on his shoulder. “She loves you, Apollo. That doesn’t vanish overnight. But love requires effort, not just poetry. Show her you’re willing.”
For the first time in days, Apollo nodded, determination flickering in his sun bright eyes.
The following day, Apollo, armed with the gifts and a newfound resolve, approached his lover’s dwelling. The other gods watched from afar, peering through enchanted pools and reflective clouds, each silently praying their efforts would end the wailing. Apollo took a deep breath and knocked on the door. When she opened it, her expression was guarded, her gaze flicking to the bouquet, the necklace, and the letter clutched in his trembling hands.
“What do you want, Apollo?” she asked, her voice cool.
“I want to say I’m sorry,” he began, his voice steady but thick with emotion. “I let my pride get in the way, and I hurt you. I’ve spent days singing about how much I miss you, but Athena reminded me that words mean nothing without action. So I’m here.”
She studied him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, she stepped aside, gesturing for him to come in. Back in the halls of Olympus, the gods watched as Apollo disappeared inside her home.
“Do you think it worked?” Hermes asked.
Artemis smirked, her arms crossed. “If it didn’t, he’ll be back here wailing in an hour.”
But the hour passed, and there was no wailing. Then another hour. And another.
At last, Zeus leaned back in his throne, a satisfied grin on his face. “Finally.”
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, peace returned to Olympus. And while they’d never admit it, the gods secretly congratulated themselves on the success of their rare, united effort.
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sayoneee · 1 year ago
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☆ I WANNA BE YOUR MAN
“his band is playing tonight, at seven,” annabeth reminds you, with the knowing air of someone far wiser, and far older, “you should go.” (1.7k)
contains: loser older brother luke castellan x fem! reader. mortal au. pt 2 of parent trap but can be read standalone ish. guest appearances! rock / metal music references.
kashaf’s note: i think i can call myself a melomaniac now
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LUKE CASTELLAN HAS always occupied that in-between space, the no-man’s-land between something and nothing — his indecipherable gaze as his cold, black, and blued knuckles grazed your cheek when he tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear swims around your mind endlessly. despite how each thought, each expression, each breath is as familiar to you as your own, you have never quite known where you stand with him, regardless of how quickly he seemed to inhabit a piece of your soul.
the familiar weight of the mixtape that luke made you feels unusually burdensome in your hands, mirroring the heft of the songs on it that you have painstakingly committed to memory, each sleepless night’s offerings of tossing and turning becoming a reoccurring ritual. 
you had popped the tape in your walkman immediately after luke had handed it to you, incognizant of the way his eyes softened as you concentrated on the music, trying to identify the first song. 
“this is that band you like — l.a. guns, right?”
“you’re a regular sherlock,” luke had said, smiling and sarcastic, twisting his silver rings.
“shut up, no i know this song,” you say, tilting your head and snapping your fingers. “its — um — i wanna be yours? nono, don’t make that face at me, asshole, hold on… i wanna be your man?”
hues of pink crept up his cheeks, and you basked in the warmth of his answering crooked grin, the feeling wrapping around you like the caress of a summer night. 
you uselessly stirred the spoon in your now stone-cold cup of chai, leaning across the kitchen table with your head propped up in your other hand. the phone taunts you from its corner on the counter, sitting just by the clear jar of blue cookies, its black hue a beacon among the sea of greens (the cabinets, the tiles — you liked to tell sally that she should try her hand at interior design one of these days) — as of late, the jacksons’ kitchen has become somewhat of a refuge for you. 
you set a steaming china cup down in front of him, listening to the sounds of percy, annabeth, and grover in the living room, pulling out the chair in front of him with a slight creak on the slightly worn wooden floors, and watching him as he taps his fingers along to bob marley’s soft crooning, “little darlin’, stir it up”, lost in his own world.  
“luke,” you say, breaking him out of his revelry.
luke sits up straight, meeting your amused gaze, “yeah?” he asks, reaching for his chai, and mumbling a quiet thanks as he sips it.
“you look kinda stupid when you think,” you say, watching him blink before taking the bait, and hiding your smile of satisfaction behind your cup.
“y’know, this is why you have a black hole for a heart,” he says, grinning crookedly, filling you with an indescribable longing to reach out and trace his grin. 
“what?” you laugh, “what does that even mean?”
“just that you’re mean,” luke says, and the afternoon sun chooses that specific moment to encompass him in its glow, like a kiss from apollo. “and that you’re emo.”
“you literally say this every time, oh my god, i’m not mean or emo.”
“because i’m literally right?”
“you like him,” annabeth says, sympathetically, standing in the doorway, arms folded across her chest, her braids resting across her shoulders, glancing from your untouched cup to your face, an expression of pity gracing her features. her presence caught you so off guard that you don’t even question where percy ran off to, who was usually attached to annabeth like a conjoined twin. 
“i know,” you say, shivering slightly, the revelation feeling strangely empty, although you suppose the same part of your soul that recognized him had always known, a small inkling reappearing with every argument, and every nudge. 
“he likes you,” annabeth adds matter-of-factly, interrupting your stream of consciousness. 
“i know,” you repeat, picking at the lint on your sweater, and while this revelation is supposed to be shocking, it is also hollow, as you suppose your soul also knew this with every hushed conversation in the dead of night, and the slips of silence that only spoke volumes around him.
“his band is playing tonight, at seven,” annabeth reminds you, with the knowing air of someone far wiser, and far older, “you should go.” she turned and stalked back toward the living room.
you sat still for a minute or so, before sighing and putting luke’s mixtape (even in your misery, he is somehow always there) in your walkman, putting your headphones on as axl rose trilled, ‘i said, baby you been lookin' real good’ in his voice that took a while to get used to — something luke gave you a heads up on.
you sighed, conceding to annabeth’s attempts to rewrite whatever fate had pushed the two of you apart, from the hours-long phone calls that dwindled into short, clipped conversations, you can’t necessarily blame annabeth for trying to fashion a phoenix from the ashes of your friendship. 
you stood up, grabbed your jacket off the back of the chair you were sitting upon, and walked into the living room, pausing for a few minutes to watch the scooby doo episode on the screen along with percy, grover, and annabeth, who were currently sprawled across the softly carpeted floor, arguing over monopoly.
“you’re literally cheating,” percy was saying.
“i’m the banker, i’m supposed to be innocent,” annabeth argued back.
“percy, i saw you steal a couple dollars behind annabeth’s back,” grover added, rolling the dice.
“guys,” you said, interrupting their three-way argument, “put on your jackets and shoes, we’re going to the fair in five minutes.”
you ignored the way the troublesome trio exchanged glances, walking through the hallway covered in framed photos of percy and sally, going to wait by the door for them.
“so,” percy says, all-too-innocently, “why the sudden change of plans?” once the four of you are a couple of blocks away from his apartment.
“no reason, just wanted to see what was so hot about the fair,” you say, digging your hands in the pockets of your jacket. once more, you ignore the glances the trio exchange. 
“so it doesn’t have anything to do with a certain curly-haired individual that we’re currently seeing less and less of?”
you keep walking, trying to feign ignorance, although the question was so pointed even you were concerned with percy’s audacity, “what’re you talking about?”
“oh, nothing,” percy smiles. “just the way —”
“— the two of you —”
“— were inseparable —”
“— for a disgustingly long time —”
“— and now you’re not —”
“— but we’re going to the fair because —”
“— his band is playing —”
“— and you’re going to try and fix —”
“— your troubles in paradise.”
you blinked slowly, as the three of them did jazz hands, matching shit-eating grins on all of their faces, “how long did it take for you guys to rehearse that?”
“a week, give or take,” grover says, and annabeth shoots him a glare.
“not the point, the point is, we support you.”
“gee, thanks, all i really needed was the support of three twelve-year-olds.”
“three twelve-year-olds that know you’re stupidly in love with luke castellan,” percy points out.
“okay, y’know what…” you trail off, frowning.
annabeth nudged percy, “not the point here, again.”
“fine, fine, fine,” you huff, as the four of you approach the brightly illuminated fair, looking for the ticket-selling booth, “i’ll buy you guys tickets so you can go hang out on the rides and i’ll go to the concert.”
the three of them nodded happily, making a beeline for the cotton candy stand a few feet away. you shook your head before pushing through the bustling crowd to look for the concert stage. when you finally do find it, after three excuse me’s and four sorry’s, the concert is already in full swing, with what looks like a mini moshpit already forming somewhere near the center.
once you’ve pushed your way to the absolute front, the darkening night sky serving as a backdrop, the harsh lights illuminate all five individuals on the stage, with a gorgeous girl with shaggily-cut hair and a raspy voice singing as lead (thalia? you think you remember luke telling you on the phone late at night once). however, your gaze almost immediately fixed on luke, who was playing a riff on his electric guitar, looking as hot as ever, his crooked grin on full display.
the band is covering l.a. guns’ ‘i wanna be your man’ at the moment, and you’re suddenly very grateful to annabeth for her unsubtle nudges, because you would’ve missed out on this sight of luke castellan, the view of his muscled arms bulging out of his band tee is permanently seared into your memory.
you’re almost sad when the show is over though, finally realizing why luke liked concerts so much, from the crowd surfing to the drumstick tricks during solos (beckendorf, you think the drummer’s name was — luke had mentioned him before) to the lead’s insane vocals, to the girl with long curly hair that stood next to you for most of the concert (probably the band’s most enthusiastic fan), you savored every minute of it. however, you’re glad for the chance to corner luke afterwards, climbing onto the stage as the crowd begins to disperse in waves, and realizing the curly-haired girl was already among the band members packing up their instruments, helping the curly-haired bassist pack his things. 
luke barely looks up at your sudden arrival. “what’re you doing here?” he asks, packing away his guitar.
“i’m here to see you,” you say, trying to drive the hint home.
“i told you that you didn’t have to come see the band if you were busy,” luke says, uncomprehendingly, making eye-contact with you. 
“i like you,” you say insistently.
“c’mon, let’s not kid ourselves right now, you said we’re friends so you don’t have to try to make me feel better,” luke says, shrugging and looking away from your face, rubbing the back of his neck.
“i listen to your dumb mixtape every night, luke castellan. does a person who’s not into you do that?”
there is something so raw about the way he looks right now, with his expression stilling as his cheeks are colored in swathes of red. 
smiling at his dumbstruck expression, you surged forward to kiss him, ignoring all the wolf whistles and “get some, castellan” enveloping the two of you, tangling your fingers into his hair, his hands coming to rest upon your hips.
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bones4thecats · 2 months ago
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Hello! 👋
This is a Record of Ragnarok request!
Could you do some of the human and God contestants headcanons meeting a human who is also a commentator for ragnarok along with heimdal? There aren't any particular characters in mind, so go with whoever you like best!
❥· DJ S/O, Record of Rag. × Human! S/O
Character(s): Apollo (☀️) A/N: Hope you like having the character be Apollo. I originally was going to do other characters, but it ended up fitting to just do one for now. Might make this a series of headcanons later on, not sure though. Anyways, hope you enjoy, Anon! ╰┈⊳ " Apollo's S/O being a commentator for Ragnarok with Heimdall "
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☀️ Apollo hummed, his lyre's strings gliding with his fingers as he played it in the room that acted as his main. His golden eyes closed as he sits there, absentmindedly playing his music to relax himself.
☀️ Behind him, he heard two voices. His eyes opened, and slid across the clean room towards the doorway. There, opening the door, was his godly father; Zeus. His frail body slid inside, the one beside him being Apollo's brother and Zeus' other son, Hermes.
☀️ Hermes offered his brother a relaxed smile, to which the God of the Sun copied back. Zeus looked at his older son and stood straighter, a pop coming from his withered back as he did so.
☀️ "Apollo," He began. "How have you been all these years away?"
☀️ "Quite well, Father." Apollo replied, standing and laying his instrument on a nearby table. "How have you, Lady Hera, and the others been?"
☀️ "Well as well." He smiled, sitting down in a chair with a lightning bolt inscribed in it. It was normal for him to sit in the exact same chair, almost as if it was a throne. Because of this, Apollo had engraved the King of the Gods' symbol. "Though, I do have a question for you."
☀️ Apollo's eyebrows rose slightly as he sat across from his father, his chair engraved with a sun, along with hyacinths flowers, his lyre, and a wedding band with a sound-wave symbol inside. He looked into his father's matching eyes and asked what his father needed.
☀️ "The last I remember, you were with that human; the one who spoke without a care, whom you married. Am I correct?"
☀️ "You are correct, Father. What does my spouse have to do with anything?"
☀️ Zeus chuckled, tapping his fingers on the wood, lightning slightly popping from the tips as he repeated the action while he spoke. "Well, I was wondering if they would like to participate in Ragnarok. Not as a fighter, but as an announcer. Heimdall would be working alongside them, so nothing bad could occur."
☀️ Apollo glanced, looking at a painting nearby. The frame hung from a single nail on the wall, golden flowers and leaves surrounding it, bringing volume, while the four inside smiled.
☀️ Inside the painting, there was two adults and two children. The adults smiled happily, their smiles pressed lightly against their children's flushed cheeks. Just looking at how much you two meant to one another, nonetheless to your children, was enough for Apollo to nod.
☀️ "Yes, I'm sure they'd enjoy it as well."
--------
☀️ Apollo smiled, feeling one of his twins' hands gripping his own tightly. He looked down at his eldest twin and asked what they were nervous about.
☀️ "What if Mama/Papa gets hurt?" The mini-version of Apollo asked. The God of Light chuckled as the young boy was picked up and placed on his elder half-brother's shoulders.
☀️ "Don't worry, young Darius, I'm sure they'll be just fine." Orpheus, your step-son, voiced. His younger sibling looked at him and nodded. Apollo then looked to his right and saw his other twin, Damon, in his other half-brother's lap. Asclepius smiled gently and wrapped a cut the young deity had gotten from dropping a godly-weapon a couple days prior.
☀️ "Orpheus is right, Mama/Papa Y/N is very strong when engaged in battle. Besides, I'm sure none of us would stand for them being collateral damage." Said Aristaeus, chuckling as Darius played with his golden-hair.
☀️ Apollo nodded and heard the sound of lights turning off. His sons all silenced and sat down, either on a chair or on top of their brothers.
☀️ "Speaking of Y/N..."
☀️ "Divine and Non-Divine, it is a pleasure to bring you all this wondrous event; Ragnarok. You will see two of the strongest of your kind battle for the fate of Humanity."
☀️ "That's right, Y/N! In the first round of human vs god, we have two of the most formidable to ever live!"
☀️ Your family smiled as you hopped around, eventually landing on a cloud, and you continued announcing for the human opponent for the first round. "The man fighting for Humanity is known far and wide for his military prowess. Anyone who learned about Asian history will know from from his aliases; Humanity's Worst and Most Barbaric Warrior, The All Mighty Warlord, the Furious Dragon, The Strongest Warrior in History, and the Flying General! Everyone, it is my pleasure to introduce to you all: Lu Bu!"
☀️ As the human warrior stepped out to wait for Heimdall to announce the first divine fighter, you floated on your cloud towards the balcony where your family sat. You jumped from the fluffy structure of water and ran into the arms of your husband.
☀️ Apollo smiled and hugged you, kissing your forehead as you thanked him for being here.
☀️ "It's not an issue, my sunflower. Besides, I knew if I did not come, Orpheus, Asclepius, and Aristaeus would be on my ass about not going." You chuckled and kissed Apollo's lips gently before moving to hug your step-sons and biological sons.
☀️ You then hopped back onto your cloud and soared back down towards you co-announcer. Standing on the cloud again, you gripped your horn and began to speak once again. "Gods and Goddesses, mortal men and mortal women; let the first round of Ragnarok... BEGIN!"
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🦴 Copyright © 2025 by Bones4thecats on Tumblr. All Right Reserved. 🦴
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winxanity-ii · 3 months ago
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⌜Godly Things | DIVINE WHISPERS: SOME ENDINGS NEED TO HURT DIVINE WHISPERS: Some Endings Need To Hurt | divine whispers: some endings need to hurt⌟
╰ ⌞🇨‌🇭‌🇦‌🇵‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌ 🇮‌🇳‌🇩‌🇪‌🇽 ❘ 🇩‌🇮‌🇻‌🇮‌🇳‌🇪‌ 🇼‌🇭‌🇮‌🇸‌🇵‌🇪‌🇷‌🇸‌ 🇮‌🇳‌🇩‌🇪‌🇽‌
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❘ prev. chapter ❘༻✦༺❘ next chapter ❘
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Olympus stank of roses and leftover wine.
The aftermath of a divine feast was always a mess—but this one looked more like a riot in silk.
Broken lyres leaned crooked against pillars. Fruit rolled under thrones, half-mashed into the gold-veined marble. A trail of someone's discarded sandals lay tangled with silver streamers, and one of the fountains still frothed with pomegranate wine instead of water.
Nymphs flitted through the wreckage in graceful disarray, muttering as they swept the petals off the stairs or carried out trays littered with half-eaten ambrosia and cracked goblets.
But none of them dared go near the center.
Not where he was.
Apollo lay draped across his own throne like a mourning statue—one leg hooked lazily over the armrest, the other trailing to the floor. His head lolled back against the cool gold, curls tousled like ivy. A lyre balanced across his chest, one arm stretched dramatically across his eyes as if to shield himself from the cruel world.
Light clung to him like a second skin.
Even in chaos, the sun followed him.
Soft rays filtered in through the cracked ceiling and bled across the floor, pooling beneath his throne and catching on every golden string, every edge of his laurel crown, until it looked like the very air was bowing around him. It wasn't even noon, but in this one pocket of Olympus, it glowed like dusk.
His voice—clear and golden and miserable—carried above the sweeping and clattering around him.
"She sings no longer, my darling girl, Her hands unstrung, her light now furled— Torn from me by fate so cruel, My muse, my spark, my precious jewel—"
"GODS, WILL YOU STOP."
The music screeched to a halt.
Apollo cracked one eye open. The light dimmed ever so slightly.
Across the room, Dionysus stood by a toppled column, one foot bare, the other still inside his boot. His ivy crown hung crooked over his ear, and his tunic was stained with what looked suspiciously like grape jam. He held a goblet loosely in one hand, the other gesturing wildly as he squinted toward his older brother like he was seeing him through a hangover fog.
"You've been moaning since before the feast started, and now—now—you're turning the cleanup into a funeral?" he snapped. "I invited the River Twins and both of them left early. One said your wailing gave them flashbacks."
Apollo sat up slowly, his lyre thudding softly to the floor beside him, strings still faintly humming from the last sorrowful note.
He glared at Dionysus.
The light around him narrowed into something focused and moody, like a stage spotlight aimed just for him. The nymphs near the columns flinched again, shielding their eyes from the flare.
Across the room, Dionysus didn't even blink. He just raised his goblet in a lazy cheer and took a long sip like this was all part of the show.
Apollo's lip curled. "How dare you interrupt a hymn mid-verse."
"Oh gods, spare me the hymn," Dionysus groaned. "You've turned Olympus into a theater of tragedy. I'm gonna start charging admission."
"I'm in mourning," Apollo snapped. "Real mourning. My muse—my light—is gone."
"She's in Ithaca," Dionysus said flatly.
"Where I cannot go!" Apollo barked. "Where I am banished!"
Before the argument could fully ignite, another voice cut in—quieter, but no less firm.
"You have been... a bit dim lately, brother."
It was Artemis.
She stood off to the side, near the edge of the colonnade, arms folded and brow slightly pinched. Her expression wasn't harsh. Just... tired. Like she'd been watching this play out for days and was hoping—praying—this was the final act.
Apollo turned toward her, wounded. "Dim? You think I'm dim?"
"You're always glowing," she muttered, rubbing her temple. "But lately it's been more... brooding glow. Like a storm lamp. Or a hearth no one wants to sit by."
Apollo gave a scandalized gasp, pressing a hand to his chest. "How could I not be like this? My muse and I have been ripped apart. Torn. Severed by cruel fate and stricter gods."
"Severed?" Dionysus echoed. "You're grounded, not exiled."
Apollo let out a strangled cry, flinging his head back. "You mock me. You all mock me."
That's when Aphrodite finally spoke, reclining lazily on her seat with a peach in one hand and absolutely no sympathy in her tone.
"You're only barred from physically visiting the mortal realm," she said, biting into the fruit. "You can still pull her dreams, summon her spirit, whisper in her ear while she sleeps. Honestly, you're being dramatic even by your standards."
"It's not the same!" Apollo wailed, throwing both arms up. "Dreams are just echoes! Reflections! I want her here! In my arms, where I can protect her, where I can feel her breath, where I can—"
"Uggghh," Dionysus and Aphrodite groaned in unison. Aphrodite didn't even look at him anymore—she just reached for another piece of fruit. Dionysus drained his goblet like he was hoping it'd make Apollo disappear.
Then, with a dramatic sigh of her own, Aphrodite stood and dusted peach fuzz from her gown. "I truly can't do this much longer," she muttered. "The wine's gone flat, the poetry's gotten worse, and your voice is starting to give me wrinkles."
Apollo glared. "You don't even wrinkle."
She blew him a kiss. "Exactly. And I'd like to keep it that way."
Dionysus snorted into his goblet.
Aphrodite turned on her heel, golden hair swaying behind her like a battle flag dipped in honey and sin. "I'm going to meet Ares," she purred over her shoulder. "At least when he whines, it's after breaking something... or bending me over it."
"Tell him I said hello," Dionysus called lazily. "And maybe break Apollo's harp while you're at it."
"Gladly," she said sweetly, before vanishing in a flutter of perfume and bare feet that didn't quite touch the floor.
Apollo groaned again, curling back into the throne like the world had personally betrayed him.
Artemis just sighed and rubbed her brow again. "You're going to give Helios a stroke if you keep throwing tantrums in the middle of his route. The sun was late this morning. Again."
The light around Apollo dimmed just enough to cast long, moody shadows behind him.
"Let it be late," he mumbled. "Let the world suffer like I have." He simply let out another long, suffering sigh before draping his arm over his eyes like the light itself offended him.
Then came the sound of sharp sandals on marble.
Precise. Unhurried.
Athena.
She took one look at the throne room—at the plates still stacked on pillars, the nymphs scrubbing peach juice off the walls, Apollo laid out like a poem left in the rain—and sighed through her nose.
"You've managed to turn a minor restriction into an operatic tragedy," she said. "Well done."
"I'm grieving," Apollo replied without lifting his arm. "Deeply."
"You're sulking," she corrected. "And loudly."
He peeked at her, golden lashes opening just enough to squint at her armored figure. "Do you come bearing good news or just more mockery?"
A pause.
Then, finally—finally—Athena's expression softened. Only a little.
"I came to tell you that your punishment will likely be lifted soon," she said. "Two months. Maybe less."
Apollo sat up straighter. "Truly?"
She nodded. "Father's feeling... lenient. For now."
Behind them, Dionysus made a rude noise into his goblet. "Father's only ever lenient when someone flatters his lightning bolt or kisses his sandals."
Athena ignored him, brushing a bit of olive leaf off her shoulder as she glanced again at the chaos around them.
Her brow rose.
"...That said, if he sees this mess, he might change his mind."
Apollo opened his mouth—possibly to blame Dionysus or the wine or the tragic weight of love—but the god of wine got there first.
"Oh, please," Dionysus chuckled, swirling what little drink was left in his cup. "When is Father ever pleased?" He threw a smirk over his shoulder and added, "Well—unless he's got a cloud wife in his lap. Then he's all smiles."
Athena pinched the bridge of her nose. "Not again with the cloud wives," she muttered.
Apollo groaned, dragging his hands down his face. "Can we not bring up him right now? I'm suffering."
"You're dramatic," Athena replied.
"He's lovesick," Dionysus added, still smiling like he was watching a particularly bad play unfold. "He thinks being banned from the mortal realm is the same as being banished from love itself."
Apollo pointed at him with a half-hearted flare of light. "Because it is. My muse is down there training with that—that mortal man who looks like he chews rocks for breakfast—"
Athena arched a brow. "Diomedes?" she said. "He's a war hero. Trained entire battalions. He's quite respected. The girl's not broken, Apollo. She's training. You've been crying over a ghost, and she's already clawing her way back to life. She'll be fine under his teachings."
"He's too gruff!" Apollo barked. "Plus he's got murder in his beard. He probably tells bedtime stories with blood in them."
"And?" Dionysus snorted. "So do you."
Apollo slumped again, cradling his face in both hands as his glow dimmed in time with his mood. "I miss her," he mumbled.
Athena stepped over a wilted garland, eyes on the far window where the sun hovered obediently. "Well. Then perhaps stop throwing fits and keep the skies running properly. If she sees the sun flickering over her head like a broken lamp, she'll think you stopped caring."
Apollo froze.
Then sat up straighter.
His hair shimmered a little brighter. His shoulders lifted.
"...You think she'd notice?"
Athena sighed again, the sound sharper this time as she gave him a long, almost bored look. "She always notices," she said plainly, with a small roll of her eyes. "You made sure of that."
Apollo blinked. Just once. The light around him faltered—then flared faintly, warming like a hearth on a cold morning.
But before he could bask in the rare comfort of her honesty, Athena's gaze flicked past him toward the doorway. "Have you seen Hermes?"
Apollo scoffed. "Why would I?"
Athena didn't miss a beat. "Considering you've both been enamored with the same mortal lately, I figured it'd be natural for you to share a cloud or two."
Apollo's eyes snapped toward her, narrowed slits of golden heat. "That's not funny."
She raised a brow. "It's not meant to be."
A beat passed. Apollo's jaw clenched.
"No," he said stiffly. "I haven't seen him."
Athena gave a tired exhale, rubbing at her temple with two fingers, like even asking had drained her. "Of course you haven't."
At that, Dionysus perked up like a bored cat spotting a twitching tail. "What's wrong now, big sister? You look like you've just read bad news on a scroll that bites."
Athena waved him off but took a step closer to the window, the olive branch pin on her shoulder glinting in the sun. "Hades has been sending messages," she said curtly. "Notes. Complaints."
"How ominous," Dionysus muttered, raising his cup to his lips.
"He says a soul is missing," Athena went on, her voice edged with quiet frustration. "And Hermes—" she cast a look around the room again, as if expecting him to appear from the wine drapes "—hasn't answered any summons. No trail. No sign. Nothing."
There was a beat.
Small. Barely enough to be called a pause.
But Apollo stilled.
It was quick—so slight that any lesser god wouldn't have caught it—but Athena wasn't lesser. She was a daughter of storm and stone, of wisdom and war. And she didn't miss it.
Her gaze sharpened instantly. "You know something."
Apollo didn't respond.
Not with words.
Just the barest shift of his shoulders. A flick of his gaze toward the floor. He didn't need to speak. The hesitation said enough.
Athena stepped forward. "Where is Hermes?"
"I don't know," he replied too quickly.
"Don't lie to me."
Artemis, who'd been silent since Athena's arrival, finally pushed off the column she'd been leaning against. Her gaze passed briefly over the scene—Apollo slouched in defiance, Athena's armor gleaming like a drawn blade, and the mess of wine-slick marble between them.
She sighed—not dramatic, not cruel. Just tired.
"I'm going to check the moonlight's still rising on time," she said dryly. "At this rate, we'll have nymphs getting lost in the forests again."
She didn't wait for a reply. Just turned on her heel, bow slung over her back, and walked out—quiet, sure-footed, and without a single backward glance.
Her footsteps echoed once, then vanished, like she'd never been there at all.
Apollo huffed, tilting his head back with a dry laugh. "Why would I? He vanishes all the time. That's his whole thing—"
"Cut the nonsense," she snapped, her voice like a sword unsheathing. "I'm not one of your softhearted nymphs, Apollo. I refuse to waste my time playing guessing games with a god who sulks better than he speaks."
Dionysus let out a low whistle behind his cup.
One of the cleanup nymphs looked up, blinked, then quietly swept herself into the hallway.
Apollo's jaw flexed.
Athena's eyes didn't move. "Where is he?"
"I told you, I don't—"
"Where."
The word hit like thunder. Not loud. But it didn't need to be. It rang with authority. With the weight of someone who didn't just command wisdom, but wielded it.
And Apollo—brilliant, burning, petty Apollo—finally deflated.
He exhaled through his nose. "We didn't plan it," he muttered.
Athena narrowed her eyes.
Apollo's fingers twitched, fingers still toying with the empty air where his lyre had once sat. But there was no music now. Only truth. And gods, it soured on his tongue like spoiled honey.
"After Telemachus and Odysseus killed him—the man who hurt her—Hermes and I... He didn't take his soul to the Underworld. Not right away."
"He what?"
"He held it," Apollo said. "Paused it. Stalled it. I don't know. Hermes tucked him away in some crack between realms—one of his backdoor places."
"And why," Athena asked, her voice cool enough to frost the air, "would he do that?"
Before Apollo could answer—before he could flinch and twist it into something poetic—another voice cut through the room, sly and bright.
"Because I can."
All heads turned.
There—just inside the arch of the threshold, like he'd stepped through a joke no one else was in on—stood Hermes with unreadable grin on his lips, looking far too calm for someone who'd been dodging summons from half the pantheon.
"Good to see you all missed me," he said cheerfully. "Especially you, Athena. You look ready to kill something."
And trailing behind him—
No.
Not trailing.
Scuttling.
Something wet and wretched crawled across the marble on four limbs.
Its spine curled like a rat, but its shoulders were too wide—like it was trying to remember being human and failing. Its skin was patchy, gray in some places and burnt red in others, and its mouth was smeared with what might've been wine or old blood.
Pig-like tusks curled from the corners of its lips, and its eyes—gods, its eyes—were human. Just barely. Wide and yellowing. Sick with fear.
Melanion.
Or what was left of him.
He whimpered when Hermes tugged his leash forward—yes, a leash, woven of pale twine and golden thread—and stumbled closer, dragging his claws against the floor with a whine like a starving hound.
Apollo didn't look at him.
Not yet.
His eyes were fixed on Hermes.
Hermes, who just smiled wider.
Athena's sharp breath cut through the thick air like a blade. "What have you done?" she asked, her voice high with disbelief but low with fury, eyes locked on the twisted, half-limp creature at Hermes' heel.
The thing whimpered again—its jaw slack, its limbs bent wrong, like a dog beaten too many times to know anything else. Blood still clung to its face in patches, but it moved on instinct, inching closer to the god of messengers as if he were a master to be obeyed.
Hermes just gave a one-shouldered shrug. "We thought we'd have a bit of fun before sending him down for judgment. You know... prep work."
Athena's eyes flared. "You what? The mortals already tore him apart after you had your fun. Was that not enough? You're gods—you're supposed to know when to stop!"
Hermes didn't flinch. He stayed silent, gaze never leaving the wretched thing groveling at his feet.
"You're no better than Ares," Athena went on, voice rising with a sharp edge. "Spilling blood just because you can. Because it makes you feel powerful."
Hermes looked up at this, rolling his eyes, a little smirk curling his lip. "Oh, come off it. We'll send him along. Eventually. In a few millennia maybe. What's the rush?"
The creature sobbed again, dragging its knotted hands through the blood-slick floor, one eye still wide and twitching.
Apollo watched it with something cold stirring behind his ribs.
Not pity. Never that.
Disgust, yes.
But beneath it... satisfaction.
The satisfaction that although justice wasn't clean... at least it was real.
Athena's voice softened, but not out of mercy. Out of something else. Disappointment. "Why?" She looked between them. "Why hold him? What do you gain from this?"
Hermes turned slowly, his smile gone now. His eyes, usually dancing with mischief, were still. Quiet. Old.
"Because it wasn't enough that he died," he said simply.
His voice dropped.
"He needed to understand."
And then—just for a moment—he looked at Apollo.
Because the girl they both loved had bled in the street like she was nothing.
And some endings weren't supposed to be kind.
Some endings needed to hurt.
No one spoke.
Not even Melanion—if that twisted, quivering thing could still be called by its old name. He simply whimpered on the floor, snout pressed to the cold marble, golden leash pooling beside his splintered hands.
Athena looked down at him.
Her armor didn't shine as brightly now. Not with the light spilling low and angry from Apollo's corner of the room. She stood still, eyes unreadable. Watching.
Then... she sighed.
Not sharp. Not theatrical. Just tired.
Like something in her had gone hollow.
"All that wisdom between the two of you," she muttered, "and still you behave like children."
Apollo stiffened. Hermes just tilted his head.
"You think this is childish?" the messenger asked, voice light but laced with something sharper.
Athena didn't look at him.
"Yes. And I think you've both decided to sit in the mud, call it a throne, and play gods of vengeance," she said, her voice colder now. "Whatever game you're playing... I want no part in it."
She turned from Melanion slowly—one last glance at the shaking soul beneath her feet, and then away, like it no longer concerned her. As if she'd seen this cycle before. As if she already knew how it ended.
"I won't tell Hades where the soul is," she added over her shoulder, tone clipped. "But I won't protect you either. When he finds out—and he will—I will not be the one arguing your case."
Apollo's mouth opened. Closed.
Athena didn't wait. She stepped over a goblet shattered in the wine pool and disappeared through the nearest archway without another word.
Gone.
The silence she left behind echoed.
Hermes gave a little shrug. "Touchy~"
Then he bent and gave Melanion's leash a playful tug. The creature yelped and scrambled backward on all fours, nearly knocking into a pedestal.
"Careful," Hermes said, wagging a finger. "That's ivory."
Then—"Can I use him?" Dionysus asked suddenly, breaking the tension with the bluntness only he could get away with. "Not in a weird way. Just thinking—if you're not gonna send him down yet, maybe he can pour drinks at the next feast? Give the nymphs something to scream about."
Apollo didn't flinch. He only raised an eyebrow, noncommittal.
Hermes laughed. "By all means," he said, tossing the leash over his shoulder in Dionysus' direction. "He's got two hands. One for the goblet, one for the shame."
It smacked against the wine god's chest and fell to the floor with a soft clink.
Dionysus blinked at it. "Was joking. But... thanks."
Melanion whimpered again, curling low into himself like a kicked dog before crawling pitifully toward Dionysus, dragging itself across the stone floor.
Hermes, meanwhile, floated down beside Apollo, cloak fluttering with lazy grace.
He hovered there a moment, letting the tension settle, glancing at the discarded lyre still lying silent on the floor.
Then leaned in, voice low.
"Well, it was fun while it lasted," he murmured. "But our little truce is over now. No more shared wine. No more shared wrath. Game's back on, sun-boy."
Apollo's fingers twitched where they rested on the carved arm of his throne. Finally, he turned his head, just enough to meet Hermes' gaze.
"I was never playing a game."
Hermes smiled, too sharp for comfort. "And that's exactly why you're going to lose."
The words struck deeper than they should've. Apollo didn't flinch—but his jaw tightened. "She still dreams of me," he said quietly.
Hermes hummed, already beganing to drift away, hands in his pockets, as if none of it mattered. "Sure. But maybe soon she won't."
Then paused.
Over his shoulder. "Let's see who she prays to when the next shadow falls. You... or me."
Then he was gone.
Not in a flash. Not in a clap of wind. Just—gone.
Apollo sat alone.
The cleanup crew tiptoed back in eventually, whisking away goblets and dragging Melanion behind a pillar with only the barest protests. Dionysus wandered off muttering something about "needing stronger grapes," and the sun edged forward in the sky like it, too, was cautious of his mood.
But Apollo stayed where he was.
Alone. Golden. Burning.
The light never stopped following him.
And somewhere—miles below the clouds, in a palace courtyard or maybe a quiet bedroom—he knew you were breathing.
Living.
Training.
Changing.
Without him.
The thought scraped against his ribs like metal.
But even so, the sun rose just a little brighter.
Because if you noticed it faltered... you might think he didn't care.
And that would be the worst betrayal of all.
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𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: CHANGE OF PLANS! I'm updating today cuz i'm working doubles this entire weekened for easter 💔so idk how imma feel and may not have the energy to do so,; kay see y'all soon~ here's a bit of extra scenes/plot to ch.45 ┃ 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐞; but yeah just wanted to give a lil more behind the scenes etc, just for fyi, humiliation seemed fitting them to decide what to do to him (lolol that was vague asf but once you read the entire thing and come back it makes sense lol) idk i like how i'm writing gods who feel like men, and men who think like gods. lets me think i'm staying just a tad bit true to myth.) also! for those asking, i try to upload all the fanarts I recieve in chunks etc, so if some were sent and not posted immeditely thats why! recent ones i got shall be present in the next chappie ❤️❤️thank you all they were amazing as always
Tag List: nerds4life246 ace-spades-1 uniquetravelerone alassal thesimppotato11 jackintheboxs-world kahlan170 akiqvq matchaabread danishland uselessmoonlight apad-ravya suckerforblondies jolixtreesunn dreamtheatre woncloudie byzantiumhollow kisskisskys b4ts1e sarcasticbitchsblog trashcannotbealive idkanyonealrr
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after-the-end-times · 6 months ago
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The Cats Have Taken the Wrapping Paper...and the Table
For @steddieholidaydrabbles Prompt: Alone 🐈‍⬛ Rating: G 🐈Words: 922 🐈‍⬛ cw: none 🐈 Tags: Established Relationship, Future AU, Takes place in the days between LotR:The Two Towers coming out Dec 18th 2002 and Christmas Eve, Eddie Munson loves Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington loves Eddie Munson, Shadowfax is my cat Ares, Ewok is our kitten Apollo (video of kitten shenanigans at end) Read on Ao3 Takes place in the same world as my December Microfic, Time for Us
“Welp, this isn’t working.”
Steve had one night to get all these gifts wrapped before the Christmas party the next day and the cats seemed determined to keep him from getting any wrapping done tonight.
Steve can’t believe he thought he had everything set to go earlier. It’s laughable really. He was so sure he’d whip this out with time to spare!
Right after Eddie had left for his monthly D&D night, Steve had cleared their dining room table of everything except rolls of wrapping paper, scotch tape, scissors, and sheets of sticker tags. He’d set the shopping bags of gifts within easy reach, piled against his feet under the table. And he’d switched the radio in the kitchen to a station playing nothing but Christmas music.
So much planning! Wasted!
And all because it seems like their new kitten, Ewok, has an obsession with paper! An obsession with biting paper and ripping paper and attacking it like it’s trying to get away. And, of course, where the kitten goes, so goes their older cat, Shadowfax. Because he can’t let the kitten do something fun and destructive while he just lays curled up behaving on a kitchen chair. That’d just be ridiculous, apparently.
Which means that an hour and a half into his Alone Night, Steve has exactly one gift actually wrapped. Eddie will be back in two hours and Steve’s starting to suspect he won’t be even close to being done.
It’s just as Shadow chases a scampering Ewok up a chair, across the table, and into the unrolled, ready-to-be-cut wrapping paper, that Steve realizes he has two options. One, surrender the table to the cats and go watch tv until Eddie returns and they take the table back together. Or two, lock the cats in the bedroom.
He knows locking them up would let him get everything done and he should go with option number two. But, he also knows they’ll cry at the door, meowing sad little meows, sticking their little paws under the door, pleading for Steve to release them. That is, until they go quiet and the sounds of little thuds start up, signaling their displeasure by knocking everything off the dresser and shelves. And he’s just not sure he can handle all of that tonight.
What he should’ve done was pack everything up and taken them all over to Robin’s, wrapped them there. Sure, he would’ve had to wait until the twins were in bed, but he’d at least be with other people. Not alone, all his plans being foiled by cats.
He’s about to admit defeat when an idea dings! above his head. He rips off the swath of paper that’s been shredded, finds a good sized cardboard box from the pile of recycling, grabs the tape, and walks to the living room, snagging the bag of treats on the way.
“All kitties better stay out of here! I’m doing something very important!” He calls out in a sing song, I’m-totally-not-tricking-you voice.
They immediately race him to the living room.
Shadowfax then unwittingly helps him by taking Ewok’s attention, the two running around the room play fighting. Steve watches them play for a moment: Shadow stands just out of reach of the kitten, Ewok leaps on him like velociraptor, wrapping his limbs around Shadow’s body, they roll around, Shadow gets the upper hand, dashes away, and they start again.
Sitting down on the couch, Steve puts his plan into action. He gently places a handful of treats into the box, fills the bottom with crumpled balls of paper, and tapes wrapping paper across the opening. For one last enticement, he tapes some of the thinner shreds to the sides to dangle down as a taunt to the kitten.
“Oh, no! I hope no one attacks this box to get all the treats inside!” He says, shaking the box lightly so they hear the treats rattle.
“Alrighty! I’m placing this very delicate package riiiight here and then I’m leaving it unprotected!” He sets the box near, but not under the Christmas tree in the corner; Somehow, it’s made it to nearly Christmas unscathed and he doesn’t want the kitten’s focus to waver from the box to the tree.
He pretends to go back to the couch until he sees Ewok’s attention get grabbed by the box, and then he slowly backs away, sneaking back to the dining room table.
Steve spends the next hour wrapping gifts to the dulcet sounds of Christmas music, paper tearing, and the dull thuds of the cats playing in the next room.
He’s sitting on the couch watching tv, cozied up under a fluffy blanket, one cat curled up on either side of him when Eddie returns later that night. Eddie walks over and picks up Shadowfax, stealing his spot while Steve holds up the blanket to drape over his lap. After years of living alone, even one night without each other feels like too long.
Steve sneaks his arm around Eddie’s waist, pulling him in tight. “Next year, we’re not leaving wrapping til the last second. The kittens almost took the dining table. I managed to rally. However, reinforcements would’ve made it a lot easier.”
Eddie chuckles at Steve’s dramatics, he does always love when Steve gets like this.
“Don’t worry, baby. I won’t let the kitties overrun you again.” Rubbing his cheek against Steve’s shoulder, he turns his gaze up at Steve, “Call for aid, Steve. And I will answer.”
And even without lighting any beacons, he always does.
~fin~
[A moment of what Steve was dealing with:]
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lawsofchaos1 · 1 year ago
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WIP Wednesday
(on a Saturday because who cares)
I have been tagged by the ever lovely @foodsies4me! And, speaking of Foodsies, if you aren't reading their two most recent WIPS - omg you are missing out. Their Daemon AU (Apollo: Blood Wars) is so twisty and delightful and full of foreshadowing for something I still can't figure out just yet, and I love that I'm still on the edge of my seat every chapter trying to guess what's coming next. Their Arranged Marriage AU (Bridges over Lakes of Salt) basically just went down my list of favorite tropes to check all of them off (Misunderstandings! Good Parabatai Jace Wayland! HoTI Alec!) and is incredible.
Anyways, a bit of of angst has been requested, so please have a little snippet from the final chapter of Laudanum:
The loft is bright, the windows flung wide to let in in the late afternoon sun, and the living room looks so completely normal that it takes Catarina three full heartbeats to turn her head towards the flung open doors to Magnus’ apothecary and understand what she’s seeing.  His heavy oak worktable has been hastily cleared, the several sheets of parchments underfoot and a shielded light-crystal wedged partly underneath the central bookcase speaking to the urgency in which it was done. Magnus sits askew, cross-legged, at the head of the table cradling Alec’s head in his lap. Alec himself is on his stomach, clearly hovering somewhere beneath full consciousness, eyes clenched shut in agony, his struggles weak and uncoordinated as small wordless noises of pain and confusion escape his mouth. Catarina catches only the barest glimpse of liquid gold eyes as Magnus bends over nearly in half, frantically trying to soothe the wounded nephilim. "Alexander-" the desperation in her best friend’s voice pierces her heart, “all shall be well, my love, I promise, just hold on, my darling, Catarina is coming - help is coming and all shall be well, I swear it, just hold on, my love, please,-" And Catarina jolts into action, berating herself already for even the momentary unforgivable pause. A bare two steps forward and she’s in the apothecary, pulling magic to her hands and taking an assessment of her patient.  Magnus doesn’t so much as look up, acknowledging her presence only with a slight change in the distressed jumble of promises and pleas as he promises Alec that help is here, he’ll be alright now, help is here. At the other side of the table is a second Shadowhunter, older than Alec - maybe in her early forties - with her hair pulled back in a complicated plait and lips pressed in a tight, white slash across her face.  The woman glances up to assess the new arrival, her muscles tensing in preparation to act until the meaning of the change in Magnus’ rambling words sinks in and she realizes precisely who Cat must be.  Twin trails run down both pale cheeks as she holds her Head’s hands to to the table, keeping him from injuring himself further. "Please," the woman begs, but Catarina has yet to stop moving.
Tagging @arialerendeair, @spiritsflame, @alexanderlightweight, and @dr-lemurr (and yes I know you only do art, but art WIPs should totally be a thing too - it's so cool to see the process!)
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rgraves1 · 8 months ago
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The Infant Hercules Strangling Serpents In His Cradle by Pompeo Batoni (1743). Source: Wikimedia Commons
The Youth of Heracles
ALCMENE, fearing Hera’s jealousy, exposed her newly-born child in a field outside the walls of Thebes; and here, at Zeus’s instigation, Athene took Hera for a casual stroll. ‘Look, my dear! What a wonderfully robust child!’ said Athene, pretending surprise as she stopped to pick him up. ‘His mother must have been out of her mind to abandon him in a stony field! Come, you have milk. Give the poor little creature suck!’ Thoughtlessly Hera took him and bared her breast, at which Heracles drew with such force that she flung him down in pain, and a spurt of milk flew across the sky and became the Milky Way. ‘The young monster!’ Hera cried. But Heracles was now immortal, and Athene returned him to Alcmene with a smile, telling her to guard him well. (The Youth of Heracles, The Greek Myths by Robert Graves pp 452-457).
Hera’s hatred of Heracles grew even more after this trick. When he and his twin, Iphicles, were barely weaned, she sent two serpents to kill him while he slept. At the sight of the snakes Iphicles began to cry and scream in panic, causing Alcmene to send Amphityron to the twins’ rescue. He entered the children’s room to find Heracles strangling the creatures to death, a slain serpent dangling from each fist.
Heracles as he grew into a young man, had a formidable education. His step father Amphityron expertly taught the boy how to ride a chariot; Castor taught Heracles swordcraft but also military leadership skills and strategy; one of Hermes’ sons schooled him in boxing and he was taught archery at which he excelled, possibly by Apollo himself. Linus, son of a river-god, introduced Heracles to literature and the law and taught the young prodigy the lyre. Heracles also developed knowledge of philosophy and astronomy. In addition, he was possessed of great height and physical strength. Zeus’ last mortal son was equipped in every way to become the greatest of the Heroes.
Graves sees many pre-Hellenic aspects to Heracles. He suggests that his suckling by Hera has its origins in the belief that Sacred Kings were the sons of the Queen-Mother. The strangling of the serpents he says was Heracles driving away the winter, symbolised by serpents, in line with the expected role of a Year King.
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grape-jucie-dog · 6 months ago
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Y'ALL DELIVERED, SO NOW I'M DELIVERING BACK
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It's a MAP idea using the "Intervention Song" from Eight Crazy Nights :3. It's long as fuck though, since I'm literally just throwing in exactly what I put from my Google docs, so it'll be under the cut!
Setting: Olympus
Intro:
“Time to cry, [Davey,] over.”
“What? Get out of here, I'm leaving…”
“You can run from [Whitey,] but you ain't gonna run from us!”
The scene starts with Hephaestus saying the opening line. Athena turns to leave, but gets blocked by Ares before she can, being shoved back into the room.
Part one:
“We all heard what happened at the skating rink today. When [Whitey] brought up your sad past, you snapped and walked away!”
Hermes starts with the first verse, talking about the fight between Athena and Odysseus in ‘My Goodbye’. The scene fades to that fight, Odysseus mouthing the words “You're Alone!”. Athena is shown to yell something back before turning away from him and leaving as Hermes says “you snapped and walked away”
Part two:
“Well maybe they're onto something that you should give a try! Go ahead and let it out, and have yourself a cry!”
It cuts back to Athena's annoyed face, as Hermes floats around her, making a crying motion while grinning at her.
Part three:
“Let it out, [Davey!]”
“Aw, shut your wooden mugs!”
“Let it out, [Davey…]”
“Would you check out her bazugs!”
Aeolus moves their cloud in front of Athena, giving her an encouraging smile as a few winions and them tell her to “let it out.” Athena angrily swipes the cloud away from her, stomping away. Aphrodite pulls her back, giving her a hug from behind, and Athena pushes her away too. Ares makes a comment while looking lovingly at Aphrodite, and Artemis glares at him with disgust.
Part four:
“You want me to deal with pain? Well cheers is what I say.”
“This here stuff just numbs the pain, it don't make it go away!”
Athena waved her hand dismissively as she says her line, reaching out to grab a bottle of wine. Ares is quick to grab it before her, shaking the bottle angrily at her while saying his line. Athena rolls her eyes at him.
Part five:
“You try to act so tough.”
“But you just live a lie!”
“Why don't you show your feminine side, and have yourself a cry?”
Hera comes in from the right side of the screen, her arms are crossed as she looks at Athena with frustration. Hermes comes in from the left side, his arms are also crossed as he looks at Athena with the same expression as Hera (almost like he's mimicking her to further emphasize everyone's point). Aphrodite enters from the center, looking upset and crying as she yells at Athena to “show your feminine side”. It cuts to Aphrodite getting in Athena's face, who looks just as upset. Aphrodite's powers cause tears to spark in her eyes, but nothing falls, and Aphrodite angrily flips her hair at Athena's face, walking away from the offended goddess.
Part six:
“Let it out, [Davey!]”
“I'll pour you down the sink!”
“You gotta do it, [Davey!]”
“Y'all can bite my dink!”
Apollo tries to reason with Athena, reaching out to try and hold her hand. Athena jerks away from him, standing over him as she threateningly says her line. Artemis is able to grab her arm, scolding her stupidity and stubbornness. Athena pulls her arm free, walking away from the twins. The small music break cuts to each god looking upset, angry, or pity for Athena.
Part seven:
“You labels and logos are wasting your time, making me sit here. Cause nothing you can say or do, will make me shed a tear!”
Athena turns to the group of gods with hatred, folding her arms across her chest and holding her head up high, determined not to cry.
Part eight:
“[He] possesses a strong spirit!
“And won't let down [his] guard…”
Aeolus makes a comment about Athena's “strong spirit”, looking a little impressed, but concerned. Artemis follows with “and won't let down his guard”, both gods looking at Athena with worry.
Part nine:
“So now we'll bring in the big gun: [His beautiful Chanukah card!]”
“Take it [Davey,] might have money in it, over.”
Hermes starts making a large illusion in front of everyone, starting it in front of Athena. The illusion isn't fully formed yet, and Hephaestus makes a comment. The rest of the gods are confused as well, not having planned this as the illusion takes form.
Part ten:
“Happy Chanukah to our wonderful [son.]”
“You fill our lives with joy!”
“Don't ever change the way you are. You beautiful, [twelve-year-old boy…]”
The illusion is of a younger looking Zeus, and a woman with her face scribbled out. It's clear that the woman is of Athena's mother, Metis, as both illusions speak softly to Athena. Athena, looking hurt, stands in front of the illusion of her mother. Metis reaches out, her hand hovering just above Athena's cheek. Zeus stays back, still talking along with Metis, his voice louder than hers. The other gods are watching from afar, looking horrified at the sight.
Closing:
Athena falls to her knees, trying to hug Metis, but the illusion fades away. Athena hugs herself tightly, tears freely flowing down her face as she looks dejected at the ground, shoulders shaking as she silently cries. Hermes puts a hand on her shoulder, attempting to comfort her as the other gods look at each other with sad looks on their faces.
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starstwinkleplanetsshine · 11 months ago
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Daughter of the Sea
Chapter Five: I Get My Own Beach Cabin (Read on AO3 here)
Thankfully, the Apollo cabin was empty when I got there. I figured everyone was training or doing other activities, as it was the middle of the day. I gathered my few possessions quickly, took one last look around the beautiful room, and walked out the door without looking behind me. I followed the paths to the center of the U and walked up to the run-down beach cabin marked with a 3. Standing right next to the grand, imposing, shining, and ornate structure that was Cabin 1, this one looked even smaller and less impressive. The windchimes were tinkling in the breeze as I walked onto the small patio and pushed open the wooden door with a creak. 
The room inside was cleaner and warmer than I imagined it would be. It was still weather-worn, but it looked less dingy and more homey, like it had been lived in for a very long time. Something about that was comforting, and the cabin felt almost cozy. 
I stepped inside, allowing the door to shut behind me, the only light now coming through the windows that lined the walls, their sills full of seashells. On one end of the room stood a bunk bed with two full sized beds, a dresser, desk, and cozy chair. The bed was hastily made, there were shirts and shorts sticking out of the dresser, and on the wall above the bed hung a mounted horn. Looking at the unoccupied space, I suddenly felt like an intruder. This was someone’s home, my brother's home, a brother who I had never met. I thought about what he might be doing at that moment, and how he had no idea he was getting a new roommate. 
There was an open space in the middle of the room with a worn, blue carpet and a door that I guessed led to a bathroom. In this space, connected to the wall, was also a small fountain that seemed to be supplied with salt-water (don't ask me how I knew that) from an unseen source. I walked to it slowly, listening to the delicate sound of running water, and when I reached it my eyes found my own staring back at me. 
I didn’t know why, but I hardly recognized myself. It had only been two days since I left my home, but something about me looked different, almost older. My hair was the same dark brown it had always been, a mess of waves I could never tame but tried by putting it in a loose braid, the freckles on my face still creating constellations across my cheeks, and my eyes still sea-green. But it was my eyes, I decided, that looked different. Almost sadder. 
I wondered if my twin would share my sad, green eyes. 
After a while I finally tore myself away from my reflection and glanced to the other side of the room with a gasp.
There stood a full sized bed with a comforter that pictured the ocean. But not just any ocean—this one was a mixture of rolling waves in swirls of blues, greens, purples, and pinks, all melting together like an oil painting. And somehow, it was the exact comforter that I had had on my bed in Arizona. My eyes traveled to the walls, where paintings of the beach hung, perfectly placed. Next to my bed stood a nightstand, and on the wall stood a dresser and a desk, along with a comfy chair underneath one of the windows. And folded up against one of the walls was a beautiful blue privacy screen with, again, a gorgeous painting of the ocean. 
At least they stuck to the theme, I thought. 
Quietly I began to place my things in order: my clothes in the dresser, my trinkets along the windows, and my books in the small bookshelf beside the window, all except my large tome of Greek Mythology, which sat on my bedside table. When I was done, I compared the two sides of the room. Mine looked immaculate, put-together, and pristine. The other side looked messy, hastily cleaned, but lived in. His side looked like a home, mine looked like one of those model houses you can take tours of. 
I shook my head at myself. Just give it time. Everyone keeps saying this’ll feel like home soon. 
But not everyone had their godly parent choose their twin brother over them for the past fourteen years. 
With a sigh, I got off my bed and made my way out of the cabin and back to the Big House to see whatever Chiron had in store for me. 
I spent the rest of the day trying out different weapons and seeing which would be a good fit. We started with archery, which went just about as horribly as it could go without me sticking an arrow in someone. Next I tried maces, axes, and spears, all of which I was also bad at. Surprisingly I wasn’t awful at throwing knives, so Chiron set up a training regime with Cadence, who was an expert in that weapon. Lastly, I picked up a sword. As soon as I held it, it felt natural in my hand and I was surprised at how easily the basic maneuvers came to me. Chiron seemed impressed, too, and not at all surprised. He declared the sword would be my primary weapon, with throwing knives as my secondary. I was happy with that. 
Before long a loud conch shell blew, and I couldn’t believe it was time for dinner already. Once in the pavilion, I made my way to the empty table lined with tiny seashells and took a seat. I watched as the other tables filled up, the campers laughing with each other and talking about their days. 
I felt the loneliness creep in as the empty space next to me took up more and more room in my heart. I got a few looks of sympathy from the other tables, and a few kids talked to me in line to give our offerings, but no one came over to the table. I knew they couldn’t, since the night before Cadence explained that everyone sits with their own cabin for lunch and dinner, but I’d be lying if I said a small part of me didn’t wish for it. 
I told myself that I just had to be patient, that I wasn’t truly alone because I had a brother out there somewhere. It was only a matter of time until he returned from his Quest and I would have someone to sit with for meals and to fill the empty bed in our Cabin. 
I could wait until then. 
The next week passed in a blur of training, sleepless nights, and lonely meals. The hours seemed to stretch on forever but the days were flying by. I got to talk to my mom, well, my adopted mom, on the phone, and I felt like a huge weight was lifted off my chest to hear how relieved she was that I had made it there safely. 
It was already the first week of August, and Camp Half Blood was definitely starting to feel more familiar. I had been spending a lot of time with Cadence and Will, and they introduced me to a few of their friends. Soon enough, I had a small friend group at Camp, which made me feel less alone. I was still reminded of my uniqueness, though, at meals and when it was time to sleep in that empty cabin at night. Any day now, I told myself. I’ll meet my brother soon.
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abookishdreamer · 10 days ago
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Character Intro: Helios (Kingdom of Ichor)
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Nicknames- The All Seeing, Guardian of Oaths by the people of Olympius
Mr. Supernova by Apollo
Dude by Selene
Hot Stuff by Dione
My Bright Light by Theia
Age- 31 (immortal)
Location- Rhodes, Olympius
Personality- He's very suave & charismatic, sharing many traits of his father. Much like the sun, he thinks that everything and everyone revolves around him- commanding & being the center of attention with a bit of a superiority complex. He has a flirtatious presence & is currently not in an "official" relationship.
He has the standard abilities of a god. As Titan god of the sun, day, light, illumination, energy, force, fire, heat, warmth, plasma, ionization, magnetism, vision, sight, foresight,  insight, observation, witness, revelation, oaths, agreements, covenants, wisdom, knowledge, intelligence, discernment, enlightenment, clarity, health, healing, immunity, prevention, well-being, longevity, purification, masculinity, manhood, virility, life, & vitality his other powers/abilities include pyrokinesis (his fire burns a bright white yellow), communicating with/shapeshifting into his sacred animals, photokinesis, total fire/heat immunity, supersonic eyesight; is able to see things several states away, invisibility, calokinesis (heat manipulation), being able to summon/manipulate emeralds, radiokinesis (radiation manipulation), limited nucleokinesis (nuclear energy manipulation), teleportation; by way of a burst of pure sunlight, skintillakinesis (the ability to make sparks), as well as heliokinesis (being able to manipulate solar energy).
In his godly form, Helios enters an enhanced power state called Supernova. His entire body is made up of pure sunlight- and he’s able to generate solar winds as well as geomagnetic storms.
He has a tattoo (made using golden ink) of a sun covering his entire back.
His divine symbols are his aureole, the solar disc, globe, chariot, & eye. 
Helios is fluent in Latin and Minoan.
His sacred plants include the sunflower, heliotrope, frankincense tree, rosemary, calendula, marigold, chrysanthemum, marigold, and black poplar.
Notable physical features of Helios include his dark golden brown eyes (which have bright flecks of gold), his thick mop of curly black hair, in addition to his flawless dark golden bronze skin.
His natural scent is a mixture of citrus fruits & marigolds.
Helios is the only son of Hyperion (Titan god of heavenly light) and Theia (Titaness of sight & heavenly light). He has a fraternal twin sister Selene (Titaness of the moon) as well as a younger sister Eos (Titaness of dawn).
He’s a proud “girl dad.” He has three daughters- Lampetia, Phaethusa, and Circe (goddess of sorcery).
Other members of Helios’ family includes his twenty-five nieces (by Selene) & his brother-in-law Endymion.
Though he has a few properties scattered across Olympius, Helios’ main abode is his breathtakingly gorgeous mansion estate in Rhodes. It’s a Greek revival style mansion built from marble and gold. All the doors are built out of Imperial Gold. Inside, the interior design is very classic & opulent- with the color scheme being white, cream, and gold. The floors are a glossy marble. The ceiling in the main living room is made out of glass, the sight of the sky overhead. There’s many gold & marble sculptures as well as classical and contemporary artwork- some of them being his own. There’s also leather & linen furniture along with gold, glass, & marble furniture pieces. There are also chrome gold accents in the bathrooms. 
Helios also owns an estate in Thrinacia, where he has a farm which has immortal oxen, sheep, & four fire breathing horses (Pyrios, Aeos, Aethon, and Phlegon) that used to pull his chariot. The farm also has chickens, roosters, and cattle. The farm & property is often looked after by his two eldest daughters.
Helios’ beloved glittering Imperial Gold chariot is in storage at his mansion in Rhodes.
He’s recently come into the legal custody of his youngest daughter Circe, as a last attempt by her mother, an oceanid named Perse to whip her daughter’s rude attitude into shape. Helios offered to help and so the decision was made to have Circe live with him for the time being. When he came to Aeaea to pick her up, Helios was taken aback at how much his little girl had grown. She was still beautiful- taking after him with her dark golden bronze skin and thick curly hair. On the drive back as he was trying to engage in conversation with her, Circe just rolled her eyes & sucked her teeth, her attention held by her smartphone.
 In Rhodes, Helios has two pets- golden-yellow dragons, boys named Flare & Fyreburst.
He travels with ease with the use of his teleportation powers. Helios also gets around in his ultra fast metallic gold sports car- which has a cream leather interior as well as Imperial Gold chrome spinners. The license plate on the car reads, “THE SUN.”
Rhodes is Helios’ sacred patron state. The beings of Rhodes honored him with a 600 ft solid gold statue of his likeness, aptly named “The Colossus of Rhodes.” The height of the statue gnarly rivals the statue of Zeus (god of the sky, thunder, & lightning) near the Lightning Harbor in Olympius’ capital of New Olympus. The Colossus of Rhodes is situated near the naval entryway of the largest city in Rhodes, Lindos.
The statue is visited by millions of tourists every year!
He starts his day as the sun is rising in the sky. Helios goes for a run for a few miles before returning home to workout in his private gym. He then takes a long hot shower- using his favorite luxury soap made with ambrosia extract with gold flakes that he buys from Basileus Seventh Avenue, a luxury department store. 
Helios enjoys listening to rap, hip-hop, rock, & electronic music. The hip-shop song “Chase the Drachma, Not the Dreams,” by 24K Static, the stage name of Chrysos (god of gold & riches) is his smartphone’s ringtone.
A go-to drink for him is champagne. He also likes mimosas, vodka martinis, whiskey sours, mineral water, his mom’s homemade mango lassi, gin & tonics, mojitos, banana disaritas, celedones, daiquiris, citrus fizz cocktails, mango juice, white wine, and fruit champagne soda. A usual from The Roasted Bean is a large iced caramel macchiato. 
Helios dresses in a classic contemporary style. He’s fond of luxurious fabrics like silk & linen- with subtle metallic threads. Staples in his closet include expertly tailored suits, silk scarves, linen shirts, linen & khaki pants, leather jackets, as well as denim (blue & white) jeans. The color scheme of his clothing is gold, white, cream, yellow, orange, and red. A look is completed with a nice pair of aviator sunglasses.
He’s also fond of wearing all kinds of gold jewelry.
A typical breakfast for him is a bowl of rizogalo (topped with extra orange & lemon zest) along with extra cheesy garlic polenta and home fries. He also likes sundried tomato & basil egg frittata. He even likes a bowl of Grains of Olympus cereal. 
Early in his godly career, Helios was responsible for driving his divine chariot across the sky every single day, positioning the sun in the sky. 
During the Titanomachy, he fought alongside and against his fellow Titans- Helios’ most prominent opponent being Lelantos (Lantos) (Titan god of air, the unseen, & hunting). When the time came to establish loyalties, Helios surprised everyone by choosing to remain neutral. Under misguided loyalty, his father Hyperion supported Kronos (Titan god of the harvest, time, & fate).
After the war was over and his father was sentenced to a term of punishment in Tartarus, Helios had to be the “man of the family,” shouldering more emotional responsibility by looking after his mother and little sister- who was barely a newborn godling.
He has a close relationship with his father Hyperion. They’re more alike in more ways than one- like their feelings of superiority due to the fact that they’re Titans. Helios feels like he can talk to his father about anything- with Hyperion never outwardly judging him. 
There’s a national holiday dedicated to Helios. It’s called Halieia. Of course the largest celebration happens in Rhodes- starting with a HUGE festival in Lindos, Rhodes’ largest city. Festival goers wear clothing in yellow & gold. Another aspect of the holiday is the quadriga, where a chariot pulled by four horses is driven into the sea as a reverent sacrifice- to honor Helios. Beings also wear white wreaths on their heads. 
Oranges, lemons, figs, and apricots are his favorite fruits.
Helios knows that he’s his mother’s favorite & often uses it to his advantage. He loves that Theia dotes on him whenever he visits by making him mango lassi and cooking him dinner. They also talk & text daily. He does find it annoying when she oversteps boundaries by interjecting himself into his romantic life. 
Being known for his attention grabbing ultra mega watt smile, Helios was gifted with a pair of teeth fronts- solid white gold and adorned with nearly a hundred miniature diamonds. It was a gift from Zeus (god of the sky, thunder, & lightning). 
He cares about his sisters, even if he’s been too busy at times to visit them. Helios supported Selene when her love affair with Zeus imploded. He hopes that after his baby sister’s wedding, he’ll be able to see Eos more since she’s engaged to his best friend.
A favorite frozen treat of his is citrus sorbet. Helios always gets a large cup at The Frozen Spoon.
He also has a good relationship with his daughters- with Helios being more closer to Phaethusa, as she shares some powers/abilities similar to his. He’s also appreciative of the fact that Phaethusa and Lampetia check on his estate in Thrinacia. Helios was the primary financial backer for his daughters’ designer shoe brand Phaelam.
A guilty pleasure for him are the hot honey chicken tenders from Olympic Chef. He gets an order of six (with extra hot honey dipping sauce) and olympian sized crinkle cut fries. 
Helios is well known for throwing lavish parties on his yacht, a precursor to the Summer Solstice Holiday. 
Some of his favorite desserts include Eos’ mangalore buns, the portokalopita (Greek orange cake) from Hollyhock’s Bakery, in addition to Selene’s jalebis.
He has a star on the Pantheon Walk of Fame.
Helios has dipped his toes in many business ventures. For starters, he’s an active partner in his father’s business which deals with solar energy.  
In Rhodes specifically, he’s the owner of a nightclub called Sunspot. There are even plans for another club location in New Olympus- in the Solar district. 
Helios is also in the fashion industry with his menswear brand called Tis Kòlasis- which includes underwear, shoes, jewelry, and other accessories. A notable product of the brand is a pair of white linen briefs that are woven with 24K gold thread. The price tag- 1,500 drachmas!
In the pantheon his best friend is Astraeus (Titan god of dusk). Helios views him like the brother he’s never had. Astraeus is possibly the only being (aside from Hyperion) that Helios is completely emotionally vulnerable with. Helios also appreciates the fact that his best friend went to him & Hyperion to ask for their blessing before proposing to Eos. 
He’s also released a signature cologne aptly called Sol. A notable feature is the sleek design of the solid gold cologne bottle- which is adorned in miniature white diamonds & emeralds. The fragrance has notes of clove, ginger, cinnamon, musk, bergamot, basil, mandarin, and patchouli. A 3.4 oz bottle comes with a 2,000 drachma price tag!
Helios is also good friends with Alectrona (goddess of the sun & morning), her younger sister Anatole (goddess of the sunrise, Olympos (one of The Ourea), Draco (god of dragons), Priapus (god of fertility, vegetable gardens, livestock, sexuality, & masculinity), Aplistos (god of avarice), Horkos (god of oaths), Psionikós (god of the mind), Epimetheus (Titan god of afterthought), his wife Pandora, several river deities like Achelous (god of freshwater), Litismós (goddess of culture), and Hydros (god of water).
He’s still friendly with the grandfather of his oldest daughters Oceanus (Titan god of the sea). 
Helios often attends the Olympic Derby, the largest sporting horse & hippocampus race that takes place in Olympius as well as the Underwater realm.
Helios was the official mentor towards Apollo (god of the sun, music, poetry, healing, medicine, archery, plague, light, & knowledge). He thinks that the young sun deity is an “overachieving kiss-ass,” but does admit that a lot of Apollo’s music is quite catchy. 
He still maintains a friendship with his eldest daughters’ mother, Neara- a daughter of Oceanus.
He's also friendly enough with Circe's mother Perse, an oceanid.
Helios is currently seeing Clymene (Titaness of fame & renown), who’s still married to Iapetus (Titan god of mortality, pain, & death). After thousands of years, the marriage is but in name only as they live separate lives. Helios and Clymene have interacted throughout the years in the pantheon briefly, but really spent time together with just the two of them as he was showing her a bachelor pad in Skyros she was interested in buying to remodel. He didn’t know if it was the black carpeting, the sound of the sexy jazz music emanating from the surround system, or the slight buzz they both felt after drinking one too many martinis at their business lunch, but soon, they were heavily making out. Her manicured nails made their way through Helios’ thick curls and he let out a moan. The sexiest thing happened when Clymene got on her knees, unbuckled his pants, and took him in her mouth. 
They’ve now been seeing each other for the past few years- often meeting at his place in Thrinacia. Helios is aware that Clymene has to remain married to Iapetus while they’re the temporary custodial parents of their granddaughter Aidos (goddess of shame, modesty, humility, & respect). He does actually wonder if Clymene will ever divorce Iapetus.
He does feel bad about the situation regarding her son Prometheus (Titan god of forethought).
Helios doesn’t give a rat’s ass about Eos’ former boyfriend Ares (god of war). 
He participates in the annual statewide marathon that takes place in Rhodes. 
Former brief romantic relationships include Hesperis (goddess of the evening & sunset), Nymphe (goddess of self-care), Sponde (goddess of libations), and Arktos (goddess of the night sky & constellations).
Helios also slept with Felis (Titaness of cates) & Sardo (one of The Nesoi).
He doesn’t have an affinity for cooking, so he often dines out or orders take out- as well as having dishes cooked by his parents brought over. Some of his favorite meals include murgh makhani with white rice, shahi paneer with naan, in addition to laal maas. He also likes spanokopita.
In his free time Helios enjoys surfing, horse & bull riding, sunbathing, tanning, golf, fencing, football (soccer), clubbing, martisl arts, basketball, going to the cinema, archery, tennis, boxing, and going to the spa.
“If you want to shine like a sun, first burn like a sun.”
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golvio · 2 years ago
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I just recently replayed Wind Waker to get back into the Legend of Zelda spirit, and am now on a Ganondorf kick; what are your big Ganondorf Songs (aka songs that remind you a lot of him)? The only one I've really come across so far is "Waltz of Malice" by Kikuo
This one took me a little while to answer because it required me to go back through my archives a little to refresh my memory.
These are a couple of songs from my big ol' character playlist that I don't think I've specifically called out in my previous playlist posts. As with most character playlists, these don't always have a 1:1 meaning, but the general vibe matches how I interpret him.
Here are some, in no particular order:
Artificial Heart by Jonathan Coulton
Cleanse the Bloodlines by Unleash the Archers (Journey wide, they're spread across the land / they will hide, they know what I plan)
Kodokushi by Aesop Rock
Jumping Coffin by Aesop Rock
Draw by Elise Wattman
The Music Room by Raphael Benjamin Meyer
The Path to the Door by David Mason
The Laughingtrush by The Weather Factory (The Book of Hours demo has a lot of lovely tracks that I like to think could back Ganondorf going for a walk in the countryside)
Sun's Splendour by The Weather Factory ("Summer: Grail, with all her gifts")
What Now? by Mickymar Productions
Apollo and Marsyas: Overture by Mickymar Productions
Nemeses by Jonathan Coulton
I'm Gonna Win by Rob Cantor
Health Is A Currency by DEADLIFE
Belly of the Beast by Gazelle Twin
Mrs. Bluebeard by They Might Be Giants
River of Despair by Ridiculon
O Ruthless Great Divine Director by Lingua Ignota (Have they told you that I'll take you for everything you've got? / Ungoverned by any master / Unloved by any god / Have they told you that my tongue is alight with violet flame? / And every eye shall see me / Every voice shall speak my name)
Just Lingua Ignota in general, man, but particularly her album "Caligula," and "I Who Bend The Tall Grasses"
Tom the Diver by Petri Alanko
Wayward Sisters by Abel Korzeniowski
Come, Gentle Night by Abel Korzeniowski
"Vissi D'Arte" from Puccini's Tosca
The whole damn Lady Macbeth aria from Verdi's Macbeth, particularly "Vieni! T'affreta!" (I like to think this is what plays every time he picks some poor delicately-featured schmuck to be his lieutenant)
"Un bel di vedremo" from Puccini's Madama Butterfly (Waiting for that one dude who doesn't screw up and die horribly, because who says this guy can't have a sentimental side? Also, this is the aria they used as the backing track for "Don't Cry For Me, I'm Already Dead")
The Herminia Suite from Octopath Traveler
The Vide Suite from Octopath Traveler 2 (One of the few tenor performances that matched his vibe, to me)
Pillar of Souls by Sufjahn Stevens
A lot of Rammstein, particularly Ohne Dich, Mutter, Diamant, and a lot of stuff from "Reise Reise" and "Zeit"
The refrain from "Zick Zack," too. This is one of the songs where the lyrics/meaning as a whole doesn't really match him, but there's something of him in the idea of tearing yourself apart to put yourself back together in a shape you want. There was something about the way Cadence of Hyrule made it sound like his monster form was something he was actually actively pursuing since he was a little boy. I heard it a little bit in Beverly's monologue about her plastic surgeries (presented here as the ultimate culmination of her obsession with death and embalming, along with her cryogenic funeral parlor for celebrities) in the (admittedly NSFW-ish if your boss doesn't view life modeling and boob jokes as artistic) "Affairs of the Art." "You just gotta take control. It's your life. I mean, look at me! Check me out! I'm sculpting myself! My own body! I'm an exhibit, right? I'm a living gallery! My body is my art! Just go for it! What are you waiting for?" Here it's not the body as furniture for the patriarchy to judge as "valuable," but the body as a vehicle for pursuing one's dreams and obsessions, as Beverly came from a family of very likely autistic people who each devoted themselves to their life's passions, as eclectic and niche as they may be). It's like the principles of Moth and Forge, this wild yearning for transformation and the disciplined mettle and ingenuity to see it through, even if other people don't like the results and wish he'd change back into something more pretty or manageable.
This is about all I can muster for now, but I hope that's a good start and you find something you're looking for from it.
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roguerambles · 4 years ago
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Siren
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Blood of Zeus Fic - Poseidon x Female Reader
Warnings - NSFW. Adult Situations. 18+ Only.
Same Reader from “Tasting Lightning” and “Between Kings.” I figured since Zeus got some one on one time, Poseidon deserved some as well :D
-
You were exhausted.
The final preparations for the annual Games on Olympus were almost complete – every god and goddess in Greece would be there, for days and days of gladiatorial matches and festivals and feasts and music. The event was always a pleasurable one, but it was the night before the opening ceremony in the Arena tomorrow and you had somehow been roped into helping the more combat orientated gods perform some last minute training for hours and all you wanted now was a bath.
Athena’s spear ripped through the wooden shield you were holding and you narrowly avoided being skewered. The Goddess of Strategy shot you a frown as you dropped the shield into the sand. “You were not even trying to dodge that one.”
“Because dodging incoming projectiles is for those who wish to live.” You flopped onto the ground, limbs aching. “Put me out of my misery already.”
She rolled her eyes, grabbing her spear. You groaned and struggled to your feet, thighs screaming in protest. The was a sharp crack of splintering wood and a cheer from Apollo as yet another of Hephaestus’s automatons collapsed nearby, it’s parts sprinkled with glowing arrows.
“Ares won’t know what hit him!” He slung an arm around Artemis’s shoulders as she lowered her bow, smiling at her twin’s enthusiasm. “The doubles match is ours.”
“Please.” The God of War grumbled, his hammer slung over his shoulders. “Athena and I will crush you, and then I will crush her.”
Athena snorted. “Betrayal only works so long as the intended party does not know of it, Ares.”
“You all seem raring to go.” You began to trudge towards the exit. “Clearly I am unneeded. See you all in the morning-“
“Hold it.” Athena was in front of you in an instant. “I need to you run and hold this shield-“
“I will not-“
Apollo appeared at your side suddenly, his smile bright. “Actually, I was wondering if you could sweet-talk Hephaestus into adding a few new upgrades to the chariot-“
“Why me-?”
“Forgot the chariot.” Ares approached, his frown deep, his hammer swinging at his side. “I need a better hammer. If I am going to best that blasted Hercules, then I-“
There was a loud clap of thunder, rumbling across the training grounds and drawing all your attention to end of the arena. Zeus stood by the exit, his expression amused as he observed you all.
“As much as I appreciate everyone’s enthusiasm…” The King of Olympus chuckled, before gesturing behind him. “…I think its time you all got some rest. Tomorrow’s the big day, after all.”
There was a collective groan among all of Zeus’s offspring, but you could have kissed him in relief. As everyone prepared to leave, You slipped from the group, moving sluggishly towards the exit as Zeus watched you with thinly veiled amusement.
“Having fun?” He asked innocently. You huffed, slumping dramatically into his side.
“I am no warrior. How do you all do this all the time?”
Zeus chuckled at you, shaking his head with a familiar glint in his eye. “Poor thing. I’ll walk you back to your room.”
“What?” Ares said suddenly. You glanced his way to see him approaching quickly, his expression melting into a scowl. “That is not needed, Father. I will do it.”
Zeus tilted his head curiously. “She does not need an escort? Or she does not require me to escort her?” He asked, sounding genuinely interested in the answer. Ares’s eyes darted between you both, colour rising in his cheeks.
“I…I simply mean…” He seemed to be struggling for words, which was quite unlike the God of War. Ares was a God of action, but he rarely fumbled in his speech.
Zeus took pity on his son. “Goodnight.” He smiled cheerfully, his tone making it clear Ares was dismissed.
The God of War cast a suspicious look your way, but you were too tired and sweaty to particularly care. You gave him a wave as you hooked your arm through Zeus’s, your cheek falling to rest against his arm. “Goodnight, Ares.”
Looking somewhat displeased, Ares bowed slightly, before slinging his hammer over his shoulder and walking away from the training grounds, his back disappearing around the corner. As soon as he was gone, Zeus chuckled softly. “I think you’ve made him jealous.”
“Me?” You turned to face Zeus slightly, pressing your chest against his arm in a way you knew he noticed. “You are the one who interrupted a sparring session to get me to yourself.”
Zeus tilted his head back, a booming laugh escaping him. “Oh? Is that what I did?”
“You’d better have.” You trailed a fingertip along the bare skin of his waistline, before slowly trailing up over his abdomen. “I need a bath. Join me.”
Zeus chuckled lowly as you moved around to face him directly, his eyes trailing lazily over your body as it pressed into him. “Is that a command?” He asked playfully, voice falling to a low, pleased rumble. “To your king?”
You ran your hands slowly over his broad shoulders, fingertips trailing softly down his large, toned pecs and sculpted abdomen, enjoying the way his eyes darkened at your touch. “A request from a humble subject.” You murmured, flashing a small grin. “Please join me in the bath, Zeus, and I promise to be very grateful.”
Zeus hummed, tilting his head in mock thought. “…ah, the burdens of kingship.” He bowed slightly, slipping his arm under you to lift you off your feet, pulling you against him as you squealed. “Quickly, before-“
“Ahem.”
Zeus’s grin faded slightly, and he gave a heavy sigh. “…Poseidon, have I ever said you have terrible timing?”
The King of the Seas rolled his eyes, his arms folded over his chest. “Be grateful it was my timing that inconvenienced you and not someone else’s.” He said dryly. “Demeter is searching for you. Apparently she has some choice words about Hades and Persephone’s sleeping arrangements.”
“Oh, by the Fates, not this again.” Zeus groaned, running a hand over his bearded face. “They’ve been married for years, where does she imagine Persephone sleeps in the Underworld?”
Poseidon shrugged his massive shoulders. Zeus looked around slightly, his arm tightening slightly around your waist. “…if you run I’ll tell.” Poseidon said flatly. Zeus made an offended noise.
Zeus clasped a hand over his chest, above his heart. “On your own brother?”
Poseidon’s expression remained neutral. Zeus finally groaned, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “Must you always spoil my fun?”
“We both know I do nothing of the sort nearly as much as I should.” Poseidon said, a small, somewhat amused smile peeking from beneath his beard.
Zeus sighed theatrically, lifting your wrist to press a lingering kiss to your hand before flashing a playful wink. Poseidon rolled his eyes, shaking his head as Zeus strolled past him, clapping his shoulder along the way.
You sighed. Back to square one. “There goes my plan for the evening.”
Poseidon raised an eyebrow at you. “Dare I ask?”
“You could have joined.” You pouted, inwardly smirking as Poseidon’s normally regal demeanour seemed to waver slightly, a uncharacteristically flustered expression flickering across his face as he no doubt recalled the last time he had joined in on you and Zeus’s antics. “A repeat of last time sounds like just what I need…”
Poseidon cleared his throat, his back straightening. “…I thought what you needed was a bath.” He said, and you gasped in mock surprise.
“Eavesdropping? Poseidon! You surprise me.” You grinned mischievously. “Wait…was Demeter really looking for Zeus?” Your eyes widened as Poseidon shifted in place slightly. “My, my! I never thought you were the jealous type.”
“I am not jealous-“
You grinned, feeling inexplicably pleased. You knew Poseidon wanted you – the King of the Seas was not subtle in his attraction – but this was priceless. “Well, since I do not intend to bathe on my own…” You fluttered your eyelashes playfully. “…join me.”
You smiled teasingly, fingers coiling around a strand of Poseidon’s long, silky beard as you peered up at him. His golden eyes darkened slightly, slowly trailing over you, sending a thrill of excitement down your spine.
“You are insatiable.” He said after a moment, but you could see the image being weaved in his mind, images of you both naked and wet and nothing between you. You pressed your body further against his.
“Zeus said the same thing to me once.” You purred, smiling just a little wickedly. “Although in truth, his stamina proved very well matched with mine.” Your other hand trailed lightly over Poseidon’s toned abdomen, stroking the sunkissed skin softly. “Worried you will not be able to keep up with him?”
Poseidon said nothing, but you caught the slightly hint of tension in his body, his fingers coiling around his trident only slightly. “You are trying to goad me by insinuating Zeus and I are competing in some way.” He rolled his massive shoulders, his biceps flexing subtly. “Please. I am hardly so childish to fall for such a ploy.”
“Of course not.” You stepped away suddenly, flashing a bright smile. “Another time, perhaps.” You began walking in the direction of your chambers, barely holding in a pleased laugh.
You knew you would not have to wait long.
-
Steam drifted lazily from the large, marble bathtub as you sank into the perfect water with a soft moan, the heat soaking pleasantly into your tired body. The scent of lavender cast a delightfully relaxing spell over your private bathroom, and you leaned against the edge of the tub, eyes closed in bliss.
You felt a subtle shift in the air, a pulse of power that rippled lightly across the water, bringing a small, slightly smug smile to your lips. You knew Poseidon could not resist.
Large, warm palms slowly began rubbing up and down your thighs, the feeling of a broad, flawlessly sculpted body solidifying behind your own as the steam twisted and took shape around you. You laughed quietly, head flopping backwards against Poseidon’s chest, flashing a mischievous grin.
“Oh….?” You purred teasingly, reaching over to playfully trail your fingertips along Poseidon’s thick, powerful thighs, now on either side of you in the tub. “…decided to join me after all?”
“You are a damned siren.” Poseidon’s strong arms slid around your waist, pulling you further into his lap, and you purred happily at the feeling of his warm, powerful body pressed into yours.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” You gasped softly as his large hands roamed slowly upwards, stroking over your hips and abdomen, caressing over your breasts. His thumb gently teased a nipple and you moaned, arching your back slightly into his touch. He chuckled lowly, his teeth grazing over the shell of your ear.
“Such a tease.” One hand moved to your waist, holding you in place as his hips slowly began to grind into your back, pressing hard and hot against your flesh. The other caressed and massaged your breast, strong, warm fingers stroking and teasing. You groaned softly, wriggling against him, but his strong hands held you in place, preventing you from facing him.
“You…you enjoy my teasing…” You gasped out, moaning as his fingers danced across your hip and slid purposely between your thighs. “You think…ah….you think I don’t see how you look at me…ah, Poseidon…!”
The silky softness of his beard tickled your neck as his lips and teeth found you neck, trailing hot, lingering kisses along your skin as his skilful fingers teased and stroked. You moaned and bucked in his arms, eager to reach out and touch him in turn, but the steam seemed to solidify around you, weighing you down as he deliciously tormented you. “Poseidon….” You groaned, the water splashing over the edges of the tub as you shifted around. “…let me….ah…ah….I want to…ohhhhhhh….”
Poseidon gave a deep, smug-sounding chuckle, the sound vibrating through you and sending ripples of heat to your belly. “What? What do you want to do?” His fingers curled and stroked deep, sending a shockwave pulsing through you, making you spasm and writhe in his grasp.
“I want….Fates…Poseidon…” You growled, hips squirming against his. “Let me ride you…!”
Poseidon inhaled deeply, and you felt him twitch against you, and you gave a breathless laugh, ceasing your squirming. You leaned back against him, tilting your head to purr sensually into his ear.
“Oh? Is that what you want, Poseidon…?” You stroked along his arm, fingers coming to squeeze encouragingly around his wrist. “Do you want to see me on top of you? Riding you? Gasping your name, screaming your name, calling out for all of Greece to hear how good you feel inside-“
Poseidon stood suddenly, his arm sliding under you as he went, pulling you both from the tub and sending water crashing everywhere. You cried out in surprise, moaning as he turned you in his embrace, your arms sliding around his shoulders as your body came to face him. His eyes burned blazing gold with desire, his powerful arms pulling you close as he stepped from the tub, carrying you directly to the bedroom.
“Yes.” He said, his voice thick with want. His lips crashed against yours, his tongue sweeping urgently along your own and you moaned, your fingers rising to tangle in his teal hair, your thighs sliding around his hips, your ankles hooking around each other to lock him in place.
He lowered himself onto the bed, his strong hands grasping and squeezing your rear, making you gasp and groan as you slid into his lap. You both fumbled against each other, stroking and grasping and writhing until Poseidon moaned deeply, his eyes squeezing shut as your warmth enveloped him, his hips bucking, driving him further into you so suddenly that stars burst under your eyelids.
“Fates…!” He groaned, gripping your hips began to move together, bodies already seeking a pleasurable rhythm. “Fates, you feel so good-“
You laughed, breathless with desire, a quip on your tongue, but then Poseidon rolled his hips upwards, driving into you with the force of a tidal wave and your words melted into a moan, your body shuddering on top of his own. Poseidon dove forward, his lips hungrily roaming over your chest and neck, exploring greedily with teeth and tongue as you whimpered and cried out, his thrusts sending whirls of blissful sensation through your body.
“There…!” You gasped out, his hips angled at the perfect spot, your thighs locking tight around him as he began striking, over and over and over until…until…. “…Poseidon, there, there, there…!”
You cried out as a wave of pleasure sweeps over you, steadily pushing over the cliff and into a sea of satisfaction. You bucked and writhed in his grasp, and Poseidon gripped your hips tight, using your movement to change angle and dive deeper inside, curses spilling from his lips as you clenched and squeezed around him. You clung to him, nails raking over his sunkissed back, rolling your hips hard and fast. “Fates….! I….Poseidon….!”
Poseidon’s expression contorted with lust, determination and need painting his handsome face. You gripped his shoulders, holding on like a ship caught in a delicious storm, feeling them flex powerfully under your hands, his muscles rippling with effort, the V of his hips shaping and dipping as his thrusts grew wilder, heat flaring hot and tight low in your belly as another blast of heat began to creep up within you. Fates, again-
“Poseidon….!” You gasped out his name, nails digging into his back. The sound seemed to spur something in him, a low growl leaving his throat as his thrusts became erratic, harder and faster, and you whipped your head back, completely surrendering to the sensations as you arched your hips in time with his. Your muscles clenched around him as fire burst deep in your belly, making Poseidon moan your name through gritted teeth as pleasure crashed over you like a wave and you both fell into the abyss together.
-
Morning began to seep into the room, the low rumblings of laughter and music beginning outside. You groaned, rolling over and burying your face in Poseidon’s chest, too comfortable to move. His arms slid around you and you both lay there in a tangle of sheets and limbs, Poseidon’s heartbeat thumping soothingly under your ear, his fingertips idly tracing along your arm.
“We’re going to miss the opening ceremony.” Poseidon grumbled, not sounding particularly concerned.
“Fine.” You mumbled, and Poseidon chuckled, his fingers stroking slowly down your back.
“Hera will be displeased if we are late.”
“…Fates.” You squirmed in his arms, peeking around the room. The bathroom was still a wreck, the floor slick with water. “…ugh, I don’t want to move.”
“Alas.” Poseidon pressed a kiss to your shoulder, his beard tickling your skin. “I must prepare. I promised Zeus I’d be in his team and Fates know how he’ll pout if I am not there.”
You laughed softly, then paused, as what he said registered with you. “…wait, you and Zeus will be in the tournament?” You blinked at him owlishly.
Poseidon shrugged, giving a small chuckle. “With Hades, if you can believe it. Said the crowd would love it.” He rolled his eyes. “You wouldn’t believe the amount of whining it took for him to get Hades to agree, I thought that-“
“That sneak.” You flopped back against the pillows, aghast. “That’s why he interrupted training last night!”
Poseidon snorted, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, stretching his arms. “Would not surprise me. Zeus was always crafty.” He moved to stand, but you slung your arms around his waist, holding him in position.
“Beat him.” You said firmly. Poseidon glanced at you over his shoulder, an amused smirk on his lips.
“You do realise I said we are on the same team, yes?”
“But you will not stay that way.” You countered, trailing your fingernails up along his abdomen, making him chuckle lowly. “Get to the singles matches and beat him.”
“You wish me to defeat Zeus on his own territory?” Poseidon raised his brow at you. “I am suddenly reminded why you are not the God of Diplomacy.”
“It’s not a real fight anyway!” You pouted, nuzzling into his neck. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
Poseidon laughed, shaking his head with a small grin. “Is that so?”
“I am only saying…” You ran your fingers over his chest, playfully twirling a strand of his long, silky beard between your fingers. “…the champion of the arena deserves to be rewarded, yes?”
Poseidon’s lips quirked upwards in an amused smirk, his hand lightly grasping your hip. “And what reward were you planning to offer?”
You leaned up, lips hovering inches from his own. “You’ll have to win and find out, won’t you?”
“Siren.” Poseidon chided, but shook his head with a smirk. He began to detangle himself from the bed with some reluctance, running a hand through his long hair, the muscles in his back flexing.
You watched his naked body walk towards your bathroom, smirking softly as you lay back on the bed. “If you win I will join you in Atlantis for a time.” Poseidon stopped in place, just before the bathroom door. You grinned mischievously. “You can have me all to yourself for a while.” Your voice dropped to a playful purr. “In your own bed, in your own palace, ready to do anything you want…”
Poseidon did not turn around, but the doorframe creaked as his grip tightened on it, and you knew you had got him. “….deal.” He said finally, his voice low and heated, sending a thrill of anticipation down your spine. You grinned, hopping off the bed, striding over to lean up and peck his cheek.
“For luck.” You teased, before slipping around him. “Now…do you think we have time for a bath?”
Poseidon chuckled, his hands scooping under you, lifting you up as he made his way towards the tub, the water already beginning to bubble with a wave of his hand.
“Let’s make time.”
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cursed-spectre · 3 months ago
Note
"Tesso's my pet sprat. She used to belong to Uncle B, but he gave her to me because she liked me so much."
Apollo's led to a smaller room, with a dark green rug on the ground and matching curtains on the wall. There's a twin sized bed in the corner with light green sheets. In one corner stands a full length mirror, next to which is one of two doors on the wall. A large enclosure filled with wooden objects is also present.
Ai walks over to her desk, on top of which is a laptop and circular mirror.
"Make yourself comfortable," she says, opening a drawer containing a small bin of accessories and placing the small black box inside.
Outside the room, Spectre smirks.
"Why don't we relax, pup?~" she whispers in Tera's audials before brushing a finger across her tail and leading her towards the couch.
Apollo smiles as he finishes his gift, putting it in a small black cardboard box and slipping it in his pocket.
At that. He messages his new best freind.
[SpaceCadet] Would you want to go see a movie with me?
He hummed, did that sound too much like a date? But then again, anything could be a date, and he didn't wanna-
Whoops, he hit send. He flushes bright blue.
Ai takes a break from playing with Tesso when she hears the notification. She takes her phone out and her tail starts wagging as soon as she reads the message, and a smile creeps onto her face.
[AngelAi] Are you asking me out on a date?|
She leans her head back and says, "I should probably stop teasing him." A small dusting of green hits her visor. "I kind of feel bad doing it."
With a nod, she deletes what she had typed, changing it to a new message, and hitting send.
[AngelAi] Absolutely! I'd love to do that.
[AngelAi] Did you have a time in mind?
She starts humming, rocking her body side to side as she awaits his response.
(YESSSSS >:3)
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brain-deadx0 · 3 years ago
Text
Janus’s Life
A Janus focused prequel to New Big Brother
Part 1 Ao3
Warnings: hospital, mentions of character death, stages of grief, denial, anger, etc. Let me know.
-
Janus woke up to a faint beeping noise. That wasn't his alarm?
He tried to open his eyes but only one opened and his vision was blurry. He was in a white room that smelled strongly of disinfectant.
"Janus?" A familiar voice asked.
Janus looked over slightly to see, who he guessed was Patton, sitting in a chair across the room, "Pat…?"
His little brother stood before quickly coming closer and kneeling by the bed, "Hey, Jan. How you feeling?"
"Wha'happened?" He asked in lue of an answer.
"You're in the hospital. There was an accident. You've been out for over a day."
An accident?
"I'm gonna go get the doctor real quick ok?" Patton told him before leaving.
Janus barely registered Patton leaving as he tried to remember what had happened.
Dinner at a restaurant… they had gone to see a movie of some kind… Apollo… where was Apollo?
Janus turned his head to search for another person in the room but found none. They must be in a different room right? Or maybe they were in better shape than he was and was at home with the boys.
What time was it? Was it late? He wanted to see them, but if it was late he wouldn't want them to get up and drive out with the twins.
"Mr. King?"
Janus jumped slightly at the voice before realizing Patton had come back with the doctor. Or was he a nurse?
"Yes?"
"My name is Toby, I'm a nurse. I'm gonna check you over real quick before the doctor gets here okay?"
Janus nodded, "What happened?" He asked again.
"You were in a car accident. You broke a few bones, mostly ribs, as well as your left wrist and left leg. You underwent surgery for some internal bleeding as well, you can ask your doctor more about that if you like when she gets here. You likely have a concussion as well, but we were waiting for you to wake up before determining the severity."
Janus thought for a minute. He was pretty sure there was a green light. He wouldn't have gone if it weren't right?
"Mr. King?"
Janus blinked and looked back at the nurse next to him, "Huh?"
"I'm going to ask you some questions okay?"
"I hate tests." Janus told him. He spent many sleepless hours studying for them and always felt under prepared. Apollo helped him. They didn't always understand it but they helped.
"I understand," Toby told him, "but this isn't a test. There's no wrong answers I just need you to tell me what you can alright?"
Janus nodded.
"Can you tell me what year it is?"
"20xx."
"Alright and what about today's date?"
Janus frowned, "...It's our anniversary?"
"Jan, that was a few-" Patton paused as Toby held up a hand.
"A few?" Janus asked.
"Mr. King, I'm going to give you three words and I want you to try and remember them alright?" The nurse said instead of an answer.
After answering all the questions from the nurse and a somewhat brief visit from the doctor, Janus asked the question that had been burning in his mind.
"Where's Apollo?"
Patton got a sad look on his face like that time when he was a kid and his friends dog went missing but he didn't want to cry because it would make his friend cry and Patton hated making people cry.
"They… They aren't here…" Patton told him.
Something stung in Janus’s heart.
No. Of course Apollo wasn't here. They were at home making sure the twins were okay. The boys were a handful at the best of times and he could only imagine what they could be like when it was fun uncle Pat watching them instead of Dad or Noni. They needed their Noni right now. Apollo would make sure everything was alright. They would visit soon. They were just busy right now.
"Jan?"
Janus blinked, "Yes?"
"Are you alright?" Patton asked tentatively.
"Pretty sure the doctor just told us that answer, but yes I'm fine." Janus smiled.
Patton looked like he wanted to say something but decided against it.
Janus let him.
"Uhm… Mom and Dad said they'd visit later." Patton told him with a false smile.
"But they're in Florida?" Janus told him.
"They flew in yesterday after I called them to let them know you were hurt. They're at your place right now."
"Oh."
"Yeah… the twins miss you but so far they're having fun with their Grammy and Pop pop." Patton assured him with the same awkward smile.
They sat in silence for a few moments before Patton spoke again, "You should get some rest. I'm gonna call Mom and Dad to let them know you woke up, ok?"
Janus nodded before watching his misty eyed little brother flee the room.
He had probably been really scared when Janus got hurt. He was just staying strong so Janus wouldn't feel bad. Now his emotions were catching up with him, that's all. He was gonna call Mom and Dad and have a good relieved cry and then he'd come back and tell Janus all about what Apollo and everyone was getting up to back at the house.
That was it.
...
"Janus?"
Janus groaned in confusion as he slowly opened his eye, "Mom…?"
"Hey baby," His mother said quietly as her sympathetic face came into focus, "how are you feeling?"
"Tired." He mumbled.
His mom smiled softly, "I bet."
"Wher'd Pat go?"
"He's watching the twins." Another voice told him.
Janus turned his head a bit to see his dad standing by the foot of the bed, "Hey Dad."
"Hi Kiddo." The man gave a sad smile.
"Is Apollo here?"
A cold feeling crept in his chest at the sad looks his parents exchanged.
"...Janus," his mom said as she placed a gentle hand on his arm, "there… there's something we need to tell you."
Don't.
"Janus." His dad said as he moved next to his mom and held her other hand tightly, "Janus. Apollo, they… they didn't…"
"They're gone sweety." His mom told him as tears streamed down her face.
No.
"Gone where?" Janus choaked out.
"Jan… Apollo… Apollo died."
"No." Janus told them, "No they're not!"
"Jan-"
"No!" He yelled, "The- the car hit me! My side!" he told them, "Apollo is fine! They-they are!"
"Jan… it-it wasn't just your car. The other driver-"
"They're not!"
"The collision pushed your car into more traffic. A truck-"
"You're lying!"
"Jan…"
"Stop. Please…" He begged.
"Okay sweety. It's okay." He felt his mom lean over and pull him into a hug, "Everything's gonna be okay…" she whispered into his hair.
Distantly, Janus could feel his fathers weight on the bed next to him, the extra sets of arms wrapping around him, and heard the whispered reassurances he couldn't understand being croaked out.
It couldn't be okay…
...
A few weeks later
"Are you sure you'll be alright by yourself?" Patton asked for the millionth time.
"Patton I'll be fine. The boys just went down for a nap and they'll probably still be asleep when you get back." Janus told him, "You're going to the grocery store, not the other side of the country."
Patton hesitated before sighing, "Alright. But call me if you need me to come home early."
"Yes yes I know. Now go. I don't know about you but I'd like to have food that isn't fishy crackers for dinner."
Patton gave him the same pitiful look before sighing and leaving for the store.
Their parents had gone back to Florida a few days ago and Patton had all but officially moved in.
Janus understood why of course. He couldn't exactly care for the twins in his current state. But he still wasn't thrilled. He hadn't been left alone since he woke up in that damned hospital. And now that he was alone… it was too quiet.
His life had rarely been quiet before. At one point he believed he worked well with quiet. But Apollo had never been able to stand silence for very long.
If they weren't listening to something in the background they were making noise themselves. Usually singing, but it wasn't uncommon for Janus to hear random vocalizations in the moments where it had been silent for too long.
Just as Janus was about to find something to drown out the silence that filled the suddenly too empty house, a small creak came from upstairs.
A sound so quiet he probably wouldn't have heard it had he not been paying attention to the silence.
He listened as the small footsteps patted gently across the floor upstairs before a curious voice called out.
"Noni?"
No. Nonononono.
"Noooniii?"
Janus covered his ears as he tried to block out the twins calls. They had to stop soon right? God please let them stop.
"Noni?" "Noni!" The twins called as they ran around the house looking in, under, and around everything they could.
"Dada where Noni?" Roman asked as the pair ran over to him.
"They aren't here." He forced out trying not to let the tears slip out.
"Where Noni?!" Remus yelled.
"They went bye-bye."
"When Noni home?" Roman asked.
"Th-they can't come home right now."
"I. Want. Noni!" Remus yelled.
"Noni isn't here!"
"Noni!" he screamed.
"Noni come home!" Roman yelled.
"They aren't coming home!" Janus yelled back as the tears started pouring, "They're gone! They're never coming back and it's my fault!"
The house was eerily silent for a moment as the twins seemed to process what he said.
"... Noni no come home?" Roman asked quietly.
Janus looked up at the wobbly tone and his heart broke at the tears already streaming down his baby's face, "Noni no come home." He confirmed.
"Noni no love?" Remus croaked.
"No! No no no no no Re, Noni loves you very much." Janus told him quickly.
"Why no home!" He yelled before he started wailing, causing Roman to as well.
"Nonono please, don't cry." Janus begged as his own tears continued to fall.
"I! Want! Noniiiii!" Remus screamed before taking off down the hall.
Janus couldn't take it anymore as the calls for Noni picked up again, more frantic than before.
When Patton returned from the store he found the twins screaming and crying. Janus, he later found sobbing on the floor of the nearby closet covering his ears with his arms.
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0lympian-c0uncil · 3 years ago
Text
The End
Artemis lay on the cold floor of the Olympian council room. The floor was cracked and the thrones were broken and crumbling. She moved her head up slightly to see the three daughters of Kronos huddling together. Hestia, the eldest, was trying to comfort her younger sisters. “It’s ok, we’ll be ok.” she whispered “I’m here. I’ll protect you” But even as she said it Artemis knew it was futile. The three goddesses' normally mocha skin had turned gray and sunken, they're usually bright and powerful eyes were dim and seemed to be flickering like a dying light. Artemis moved her head once again to see her twin Apollo. He was across the room in the arms of the war god, Ares. She wished she could hug him one more time but both had no energy to move. He looked back at her, His bronze skin was pale and pasty, his gorgeous blond hair had lost its color, golden eyes dim and flickering. He looked up at her and a weak smile played across his face. He lifted two fingers to his mouth and blew his sister a kiss, a gesture that Artemis used to dislike but it warmed her slowing heart. He then turned his head to bury it in Ares’s shoulder. Ares placed a kiss on his boyfriend’s head and whispered an “I love you” Other gods were around Artemis but she couldn’t look at any more, she couldn’t bear to see the dying faces of her family. Suddenly she felt arms around her body. The huntress had just enough energy to turn and meet the diming grey eyes of the goddess of wisdom. “Thena'' Artemis said in a weak voice. Athena smiled weakly. Artemis sobbed, the sight of her love being something she wished wasn’t happening. Her pale skin had become grey like the sisters, Her wise, confident grey eyes flickering. But Artemis still thought she looked beautiful. “I don’t want to go” “Don’t worry my love we’ll be together” Even as Athena said this Artemis knew that as soon as they died they wouldn’t see each other again. “How do you know that?” Athena took in a shaky breath “because I know not even death can separate us” Artemis wanted to disagree because you don’t wake up from death and gods don’t go to the underworld when they die. “I don’t want to lose you Thena” “I don’t either” Athena smiled “I love you Artemis” Athena then leaned down and pressed a kiss to Artemis’s cold lips but even as it happened Artemis felt the rest of the heat leave Athena’s body and her breathing stopped. She opened her eyes to see Athena’s and her heart shattered at seeing the once wisdom filled eyes dark like when a candle flame goes out. Although her heart was still beating faintly, Artemis knew her love was gone from this world. Artemis felt tears streaming down her face but she knew there was nothing she could do. She placed her head against Athena’s and whispered a faint “I love you too” Then the hearts of the gods stopped at once. And in that moment Olympus fell and the once powerful gods died.
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tfwlawyers · 4 years ago
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Not me singlehandedly going through your entire parent trap au I’m so invested even though like half of the posts are from 2015 💀
THESE THINGS HAPPEN I get such a kick out of knowing this au is still making its rounds though 😭😭
and yk what just because I know I’m never going to do anything else with this, have a 3.5k attempted scramble of fic for this au I tried writing back also in 2015. i was even less of a writer back then than I am now so it’s absolutely terrible but have at thee
“Oh, wait...” Trucy winced and tapped her earring. Apollo’s eyes widened in realization. “Looks like we have one more thing to do tonight - it’ll be super quick, I promise.”
“Oh no,” Apollo said, visibly paling, “there’s no way you’re doing that to me-”
“Then cutting my hair was a total waste,” Trucy huffed, tugging at a newly shorn lock, “because there’s no way I can go to camp with pierced ears and come home without. Come on, Polly, where’s your sense of adventure? It’s just one little pinch!”
“Just one?” he asked hesitantly, eyes now trained on the sharp needle laying on the table.
Trucy paused. “Well... I guess it’s technically two. I really only wear the one earring, but both my ears are pierced.”
Apollo sighed. “Great.”
“Nah, I got this,” Trucy said, grinning toothily. “I went with Aunt Maya when she wanted to get hers pierced, even though she chickened out at the last second.” She picked up the needle and a book of matches from the table, eyes glinting. “I had to get mine repierced because of infection the first time too. Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”
-
“Put that apple slice back,” Apollo said, narrowing his eyes at the piece of fruit in Trucy’s hands. “They’re acidic, I don’t need that anywhere near me and oh God you’re really going to shove a piece of metal into my ear, aren’t you-”
-
“You sure I look okay?” he asked, patting down the skirt. He squinted down at the stark white boots he’d thankfully fit into. “I’m terrified to walk in these, they look like death traps -”
“Which is why we’re practicing,” Trucy said primly, wiping her hands on a gel-stained rag. She still didn’t quite have a grasp on the correct ratio of product to actual hair, but she was much better than when they had started five weeks ago. “Now, walk towards me.”
-
“One last thing, I guess,” Apollo said, removing his bracelet and handing it to Trucy, watching as she carefully slid it on. He rubbed his now bare wrist absentmindedly, feeling strangely naked without it.
“So... this is really it. We’re really doing this.”
“We’re really doing this,” Trucy confirmed, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet. For all her apparent enthusiasm, she looked as nervous as he felt. The studs in her ears reflected the morning light.
“Give papa a hug for me,” he said, smiling weakly.
“Give daddy one for me too,” she said.
They hesitated a moment more before Trucy threw her arms around her brother’s shoulders. Apollo’s arms immediately snaked around her waist, drawing her in tight. They clung to each other, silently willing and praying this was somehow going to all work out - that they wouldn’t just to get to meet their other parent, that they wouldn’t only get a few short weeks with the other father they hadn’t even known had existed, but that they could find some way to reconcile the two, that they wouldn’t have to lose anyone across the wide expanse of the Atlantic ever again.
-
“You’ve had your ears pierced,” he said almost absently, cradling her head between his hands and gently turning her neck back and forth to better view the studs. He clicked his tongue. Trucy felt her heart sink.
“Do you... hate them?” she asked tentatively.
Edgeworth’s eyes snapped to hers. They were the same soft gray color as the paint Daddy always kept too much of around the house. “On the contrary - I find they suit you incredibly well. Please tell me you didn’t get an infection.”
Her face split into a wide smile.
-
Apollo thumbed through a stack of canvases that had been shoved into a corner. There was a thin layer of dust of them; if he had to guess, he’d say they hadn’t been disturbed for at least three months - not a particularly long stretch of time, all things considered. They were clearly less polished works, lacking the technical skill and attention to detail that made Phoenix Wright a name to be reckoned with in the art community, but they were still beautiful in their own way. Paintings of vineyards and what looked like London, towering skyscrapers and calm seas and -
His father.
Apollo blinked.
The portrait of Miles Edgeworth drawn in rich oils did not blink back. Nor did the three that followed.
-
“There were a lot of paintings of the same person in daddy’s works. Some guy with grey hair,” Apollo said, struggling for nonchalance.
Maya’s grip on the mixing bowl faltered. “Is that so,” she said carefully.
“Was he one of daddy’s favorite models or something he just never told me about?”
Maya pursed her lips and continued stirring with a newfound vigor. “You could say that.”
-
“You’re not Apollo?” he asked, voice thick. “You’re Trucy?”
She smiled weakly. “That would be correct.” One strand of hair fell lank across her forehead - how did I not notice, Apollo hasn’t used nearly that much gel in years - and he absentmindedly tucked it behind her ear. He felt her press into the warmth of his hand, as if she were afraid he might suddenly vanish across the Atlantic again.
“I hope you don’t - I hope you don’t hate me,” she said, voice beginning to waver, “it’s just that Polly and I met at the camp and the whole thing sort of just spilled out. I’ve wanted to see you for so long, and Polly felt exactly the same way about Daddy, so we sort of just - just switched lives and hoped it wouldn’t take you so soon to notice. I really hope you don’t hate me, because I’ve wanted to meet you basically my whole life and I hope that maybe one day you can love me for me and not Polly and -” (this is ALL from movie tho so mix this up)
Edgeworth’s left hand came to cradle the rest of Trucy’s face, cutting her off mid-sentence. “Oh, my dear,” he said, cautiously tugging her forward. She came willingly, all but sprawling across his chest, tucking her head underneath his chin and wrapping her arms around his middle. “I’ve loved you since the day you came to me,” he whispered into her hair, blinking away the beginnings of tears he felt gathering at the corner of his eyes. He felt her tighten her hold and he did the same.
-
He poured himself a thumbnail of scotch, perfectly content to pretend he didn’t have tickets to a plane back to a state he had vowed never to set foot in again departing in less than four hours. “He was rather handsome,” he found himself admitting, absentmindedly swirling the glass and taking a sip. He paused, staring at nothing and mumbling to himself, “...had the most crooked smile. Always made me weak at the knees.”
“What was that, sir?”
Edgeworth snapped his attention back to the other man; he’d nearly forgotten Gumshoe was even in the room. “Nothing, nothing, never mind, have you seen the tickets?”
Gumshoe shrugged. That was Trucy’s cue.
“Almost ready, papa?” she asked, stepping smoothly into the room from her hiding place behind the thick wooden door. Edgeworth looked just as wild-eyed as she’d been hoping.
“Yes, of course, I’m almost finished packing -”
She didn’t even have to look at his still mostly bare suitcase to know he was lying.
“ -and you did tell your father we were coming, didn’t you?” he finished, placing his drink on a nearby dresser and running his fingers shakily through his hair.
“Absolutely,” Trucy promised.
“Ah,” Edgeworth said, fiddling with his waistcoat buttons. They looked like they’d been polished recently.
“Liar,” Gumshoe leaned down to whisper. She shushed him.
-
“Might I suggest we continue this little gathering inside,” Maya said, already beginning to shepherd the twins - the twins, she was going to need another vacation just to process the fact that they were together again - into the room. She twisted back around to look at Edgeworth, still shoving Apollo (that was Apollo, right?) forward. “Hi,” she began again, offering a free hand, “you probably don’t remember me -”
“Maya!” he interrupted, smiling warmly and bending to kiss her chastely on the cheek. His breath was sour with vodka and his glasses clunked awkwardly against her face. As he turned and stepped fully into the room, Maya’s cheeks(rp) began to hurt from smiling so fiercely.
“I knew I always liked him,” she said to no one as she closed the door.
-
This was ridiculous. This resort was full of entirely too many people who favored the same sort of eccentric clothing that man had even fourteen years ago, a disproportionate amount of them with the same slate grey hair. He almost would have written that (awkward*) expression seen from across Dahlia’s shoulder/a hotel lobby as a figment of his overtaxed imagination had it not been so much realer than the stacks of canvases in his studio. Which meant Miles was here, but he’d swept the first level of the hotel twice already after begging Dahlia to take to her room for a bit, the pool area was as depressingly empty as the inside was, and -
There he was.
Across the pool, descending the steps carefully from the inside lounge area and walking on the balls of his feet like he always did when he’d had a bit too much to drink (and why did he still remember that) was, without a doubt, Miles Edgeworth.
Phoenix suddenly found it difficult to breathe.
Edgeworth was halfway down the opposite path before Phoenix realized he should probably do something.
“Excuse me,” he said, shouldering his way through the crowd. It would be rude and more than a little intrusive to just call out his ex-husband’s name in the middle of a resort, right? Perhaps not as rude as nearly shoving the poor bellboy into the shrubbery, but, well, desperate times called for desperate measures.
He didn’t immediately notice the odd assortment of friends and family and a lumbering man in striped green swimming trunks perched on pool chairs as he stepped past, but they certainly noticed him.
“Daddy, are you okay?” Trucy asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said vaguely, refusing to take his eyes off Edgeworth. He was abruptly terrified he might vanish again if he did.
He
“Nick, watch out -”
“Hey, pal -”
“Daddy -”
With that, Phoenix collided into a passing service boy, arms pinwheeling wildly as he fell directly into the pool behind him.
-
“Hello Miles,” he said, smiling sheepishly and wringing out his tie. He fought the urge to rub the back of his neck and settled for clenching his hands into tight fists instead. “Or do you people call you Edgeworth now?”
“Miles is - Miles is fine,” Edgeworth said weakly, trying to look anywhere but Phoenix, as if this was a perfectly normal conversation they should be having for the first time after fifteen years. “My father still calls me Miles.”
-
Something warm coiled in his chest. It felt infinitely more dangerous than it had fifteen years ago.
“You always had a smart mouth,” he murmured, rubbing a swathe of cleaning ointment along the cut on Phoenix’s forehead. Phoenix hissed.
“So glad you remembered,” he bit through gritted teeth.
“Hush.”
Phoenix hmmed but stayed silent for a few more seconds, staring at Edgeworth as he dug back into the first aid kit. Edgeworth tried not to flush under the scrutiny.
-
Phoenix held his wrist in a loose grip. He should have felt clammy from the pool and the rapidly descending night, but he blazed oddly hot against Edgeworth’s skin.
“Miles, I-”
“Feenie? Who is this?”
“Dollie!” Phoenix said, shooting upright and wincing at the sudden dizziness.
-
Edgeworth’s burgundy coat was hung carefully over his arm, too thick for the warm California night. The buttons on his waistcoat glinted from a nearby streetlamp’s glow.
Phoenix swallowed.
-
“Do you have any idea where they’re taking us?” Edgeworth asked, leaning in slightly. Phoenix’s (nose twitched? something about scent memory?) and he refused to let himself acknowledge that Miles’s choice of aftershave hadn’t changed since the day they’d met. He abruptly remembered the taste of cheap wine and overly sweet cake on his tongue, felt the ghost weight of a ring fifteen years gone.
He hastily turned away.
“No idea.”
-
“Grandfather chipped in a bit -”
“Apollo,” Edgeworth warned.
“Alright, so Grandfather chipped in a lot, whatever, we’re poor teenagers, the point is,” he said, emphasizing the final word by pulling the ship’s impressive doors open with a firm tug, “it’s ours for the night.”
Phoenix whistled shrilly in appreciation, instinctively reaching out to ruffle Apollo’s hair. It was a testament to how important the night was that Apollo merely batted Phoenix’s hand away. “Seriously, dad,” he mumbled. His scowl was clearly forced, however; he felt oddly warm that he was able to finally use that word at all.
-
“Subtle,” Phoenix remarked.
“Mm,” Edgeworth agreed. “I don’t suppose we should let their efforts, however misguided they may be, go to waste, should we?”
“You just want to know who else they roped into this ridiculous scheme of theirs.”
“Oh, because you don’t.”
“I,” Phoenix said, moving to the chilled champagne propped by the windowsill and popping its cork, “have a perfectly healthy level of curiosity. It does not involve wondering what’s going on in my kid’s head. Trucy is a teenager. That’s terrifying.” He carefully poured the sparkling drink into two glasses and offered one to Edgeworth.
“I find that somewhat difficult to believe,” Edgeworth said, striding forward and taking the  proffered glass. He made certain their fingers did not brush. “Thank you.”
-
They waited until she had hastily bowed out of the room before turning their focus back to each other. “Miles, that’s why we came up with this arrangement in the first place,” Phoenix continued, nonplussed.
“Really?” Edgeworth carefully picked up his glass flute, trying to ignore the tremor he felt running through his hands. “I thought it was because we’d agreed to never see each other again.”
Phoenix’s heart clenched. “Not ‘we’, Miles,” he said slowly, spreading his hands on the tablecloth and feeling like if he missed a step here, he would risk something he couldn’t afford to lose again.
Edgeworth took a shaky draw of wine. “You know,” he said slowly, seemingly forcing himself to meet Phoenix’s eyes, “that part is unclear to me as well.”
“Oh, you don’t remember the day you packed?” Phoenix asked.
“No, I remember that day perfectly. Did I hurt you when I threw that - oh God, what was it -”
“It was Kamisar’s Modern Criminal Procedure. It left a dent in the wall from where it rebounded off my head.”
“Oh,” Edgeworth said, at least having the grace to look properly abashed. “Right. Sorry.”
Phoenix shrugged. “It’s not like I was making it that easy on you.
-
And....” Edgeworth trailed off, twisting a napkin between his fingers. “You didn’t chase after me.”
Phoenix felt (something) shift. “I didn’t know that you wanted me to.”
-
“A toast to -”
“Our children,” Edgeworth cut in. He ignored the tightening in his chest at the our.
“Our children,” Phoenix repeated slowly, as if the words didn’t quite match with what his mouth had wanted to say.
“We both got where we actually wanted to go.”
Phoenix’s eyes never wavered from his. “We did,” he said, voice strange.
They toasted again and finished their meal in silence.
-
“Apollo, what are you doing in those clothes? We’ve got a plane to catch.”
“We’re getting totally ripped off,” maybe-Trucy said. “Daddy said we’d get our camping trip and we want to go.”
“Wait, hang on,” Phoenix interrupted, “what camping trip?”
“The one Aunt Maya and I make you take us on every year before school starts,” almost-definitely-Trucy said. Phoenix began to lift his finger in triumph, sure he’d found his kid -
“ -the one behind the house that runs all the way up to Gourd Lake, remember when you fell in that one year,” I’m-not-too-sure-if-this-one-is-still-in-fact-Apollo finished.
Phoenix’s arm fell listlessly to his side. Edgeworth snorted.
Phoenix shot Edgeworth a look. Thanks for helping, one of these is yours. “This is entirely unfunny, you’re going to make your father miss his flight,” he said, shifting his attention back to the twins. Honestly, he was an Ivy University graduate and Miles was a world renowned defense attorney, how were they being duped by their own kids -
“Apollo -” Edgeworth began.
“Yes?” they both said in unison.
Edgeworth groaned. “They get this from you, I’m sure,” he said.
“It’s not my fault you’ve apparently been raising a devilishly deceptive teenager,” Phoenix quipped back, never taking his eyes off the twins. He could feel the beginnings of a migraine pound at the base of his neck. “He’s probably rubbed off on Trucy.”
The twins grinned.
Phoenix rubbed a hand over his eyes before stooping to their height once again. He stared hard at each of them, looking back and forth between their faces. “This one’s Trucy,” he said slowly, pointing a finger to the sibling in orange. “I’m positive.”
“You know, I hope you’re right, Daddy. You wouldn’t want to send the wrong kid all the way back to Germany - ”
“ - would you?”
How was any of this fair?
“Here’s our proposition. We go back to Daddy’s house, pack our stuff, and the four of us leave on the camping trip.”
“The four of us?” Edgeworth interjected. They ignored him.
“And when you bring us back,” maybe-Trucy-maybe-Apollo continued, “we’ll tell you who’s Trucy and who’s Apollo.”
“Or,” Edgeworth said, carefully stepping around and in front of Phoenix and crossing his arms firmly across his chest, tapping his finger rhythmically against his arm, “new plan. I take one of you back to Germany with me whether you like it or not.”
Two identical sets of eyes twinkled back at him.
(He felt a migraine beginning to pound in his left temple.)
-
“You can cook now?” Edgeworth asked.
“Oh yeah,” Phoenix said. “I can make pasta. And pasta. Probably more pasta, if you ask really nicely.”
“Hm,” Edgeworth said, eyebrows scrunched in mock thought, “pasta sounds good.”
Phoenix grinned, bumping Edgeworth’s shoulder. He was warm through the cotton. “Pasta it is.”
-
Edgeworth looked across the seat at Apollo. His glassy eyes reflected the flickering street lamps as the taxi sped down the empty street.
“Apollo, I -” he began, deflating as Apollo turned further away. It’s entirely justified, he thought despondently. I’d hate myself as well.
-
“Grandfather?” Apollo called, shrugging out of his heavy jacket and hanging it on the coat rack. The house was silent.
“I’ll check the study,” Edgeworth said, tugging his jabot loose. Apollo nodded and headed towards the direction of the kitchen, toeing off his shoes on the way. Pushing open the wide doors that led to the study, Edgeworth saw someone reading a paper at the desk. He cocked his hip against the door and crossed his arms. “Hello, father. We’re back.”
The newspaper lowered. It wasn’t Gregory.
“Hiya, papa,” Trucy said. The corners of her mouth were quirked despite her obvious attempts to reign in her expression. “Did you know the Concord gets you here in half the time?”
Edgeworth slipped against the doorframe. He felt the knob dig into his hip. “I - yes, I’ve heard that.”
(Edgeworth was acutely aware of the doorknob digging into his hip from when he pressed against it. “I - yes, I’ve heard that.”)
Apollo walked into the room, drawn to the sound of voices. When he saw Trucy his face split into a blinding grin. “What are you doing here?”
Trucy neatly folded the newspaper on the desk and clasped her hands in front of her. “It took us about thirty seconds after you left that we decided we didn’t want to lose you two again,” she said, eyes crinkling.
Edgeworth swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat. “We?” he said, voice cracking.
“We,” a new voice agreed.
From the corner of his eye, Edgeworth noted Trucy moving to stand by the far wall of the study, giving the vaguest attempt of privacy. It didn’t matter. His eyes were trained on Phoenix, tracking his movement as he crossed the room.
-
Phoenix peppered his face in light kisses, smiling into the curve of his throat and pressing his lips to the thrumming heartbeat beneath his skin.
They eventually pulled back, desperate for air. Phoenix’s eyes crinkled - crow’s feet, Edgeworth thought wildly through his haze, he’s got crow’s feet now, I haven’t seen him this close up since - and he rested his forehead against Edgeworth’s.
“God, I’m never letting you go again,” he whispered, hands snaking around the other man’s back to pull him even closer.
-
“You want to toast with this? I’d have thought you might want to upgrade to something with a little more class.”
Phoenix smiled sloppily, pressing a chaste kiss to his temple. “You’re the only one I said I’d drink it with, remember?”
Edgeworth smiled back. He took the proffered bottle warmed by the weather and tugged his husband into a proper kiss, matching rings glinting in the dying sunlight.
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