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youlikefanficdontyousquidward · 10 months

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Caught red handed

Miguel x Spider-Reader (gender neutral but AFAB)

Warnings: Period sex, oral, fingering, some pred/prey, stalking?

Summary: Miguel catches your scent and it activates something in him.

I know he's not a vampire but just let me play in the space rn ok?

It was just a precaution. He looked into every spider person that joined. He just had to be sure they weren't going to be a problem down the line. That's the only reason.

"Keep telling your self that Miguel." Lyla chirped over his shoulder. Her smug smile grating on him. She was right of course, which only made him more furious.

Miguel had spent the whole day watching you through the screens. Peaking in on your cannon events at first but it'd slowly moved towards obsession. He had to know everything, see everything. He watched you at home, your civilian life on public transport.

He watched you at your day job, inches away from his screen, dark circles sickly looking under the yellow light. Miguel watched you smile at coworkers whilst gripping the control panel until it cracked. Then you were making excuses to swing off, protecting your world from villains.

A loud buzz snapped him from his focus. An anomaly, an anomaly in your universe! He didn't even consider sending anyone else and was through the portal before he'd even checked what it was.

He arrived in an explosion, pouncing to a near by wall, claws digging into the concrete. It was a green goblin and a rather futuristic one at that. He whizzed above in the night sky, cackling wildly and throwing orange grenades with reckless abandon. Dammit he should've arrived better, he cursed preparing to pounce.

Then there you were, tight body suit and graceful movements, spinning through the air. Webbing shot out, catching each bomb before they went off, gathering them to swing right at the goblin. Miguel was impressed, you were leagues beyond a lot of the other Spiders but that came with your years experience.

"Hey Miguel! Hope you like 'em extra crispy!" You quipped as you swung past him. He groaned, rolling his eyes. Of course you were still a Spider after all, the annoyance came with the territory.

He moved to follow before something stopped him. A scent unlike anything he'd smelt on you before. At first the copper tinge worried him, had you been hurt before he arrived? No there was something under that, a sweet ambrosia that had his head spinning.

"Welp that was easy!" You chirped landing in front of him. Miguel was only vaguely aware of the portal you opened, dropping a bound and swearing goblin through. "Hope none of the Spider-teens are through there right now," You continued but all Miguel could focus on was the buzzing in his claws, his teeth.

"You know cuz of the swearing... hey you okay bud?" Your voice drifted closer, the smell intensifying. Miguel doubled over and you were by his side in an instant.

"Don't" Miguel yelled, your hands freezing before they reached his shoulder. His body shuddered, the scent was all around him. He dug his claws into the building. He could see your feet stuck standing horizontally as you watched him.

"Oh no..." Lyla began before her hologram fizzled away. Sure Miguel had been around other Spider-people when they were on their periods but this was something more.

"Do I need to call someone..." You began, inching forward again. A fresh wave of the scent crashed against Miguel. Any resistance he had was hanging on by a thread.

"You need to run." He strained, finally meeting your masked face. You looked startled, frozen on the spot, a deer in headlights. "NOW!" he roared.

You shot off, the sound of your web shooter firing away from him. It was a mistake, Miguel realized it the moment you moved. He should have got you to walk away, slowly, maintaining eye contact or through the portal. Now you were a rabbit and he a fox

He didn't even know when he moved, just that he chasing you. Claws raking through metal and stone as he tore his way after the scent. He needed it, he needed you. His whole body seemed to ache and the dull throb in his crotch drove his feral pursuit.

For your part you ran well, moving quickly, silently, shifting directions to try and shake him. You couldn't know how stupid that was, no matter where you went he could follow the scent.

You swung silently into an abandoned warehouse, darting quickly past the pungent chemicals. The idea came as you'd ran, in both the dark and quiet it'd be easier to hide. If your theory was correct too, the bleach should mask you.

What was happening? You seen Miguel loose it before, anger blinding him as he tore after a villain but this was different. You'd not been fighting, so why would he be after you? He couldn't want to hurt you.

You were plastered to the wall, chest heaving in... fear? No you'd never been afraid of Miguel. Sure he had those fangs, claws, height but he was kind past his gruff exterior. He had a melancholy about him that made your heart ache. No you weren't scared, you were excited?

"Y/n... I know your in here... come to me Conejita" Miguel purred through the gloom the sound coursing excitement through your veins.

Miguel's eyes worked best in dark like this, he could clearly see the pungent chemical vats. His clever girl, you were hiding where that sense would be diminished. Still he wasn't thrown. If he was closer he'd smell it again he was sure. So he kept his movements were slow, quiet, stalking around the catwalks as he searched.

There was an intensity to him you'd never seen. Shoulders swaying like a panther as he continued his search. You stilled as much as you could, breath held as he passed bellow. Stuck to the ceiling was your best bet you supposed, he had a harder time scaling walls that you did.

Still the excitement bubbled in your stomach, a heat beginning to pool at the thought of being caught. It made you feel guilty, something was wrong wasn't it? You shouldn't be so excited to be caught by your friend, he wasn't in his right mind surely. He passed through a door and you let yourself fall silently to the ground, turning to sneak off again.

"Querida" his voice breathless against your ear. You squeaked, turning to face him. He towered over you, breathing rapid and hot against your mask, eyes zeroed in. Your arm flew up to sling your escape but he caught the wrist. Miguel pulled your arm up over his head as you now dangled inches from his face. No quip came to mind.

His mask was gone, pupils blown as a cheshire grin exposed dripping fangs. In a moment you planted your feet on his chest, his grip loose enough on your wrist to slip out. Springing off, you landed a few meters away but your escape was short lived.

His body slammed into yours, one arm encircling your waist and pinning your arms to your side, the other pulling you even closer to back into him and gripping your thigh. The claws tore at the fabric as he held on tight but didn't graze the skin. He was plastered to your back, hunched over your form, nose pressing against your throat.

"Tesoro, mi tesoro, why do you resist?" He groaned out, his hard member pressing against your rear. You couldn't help but gasp as his hand slid up your body. He paused to massage a breast, earning another sweet noise from you.

Still your feet stumbled, toes scraping for purchase on the ground you'd been plucked from. You were stronger than him, the spider bite made sure of that but in this position it'd be hard to free yourself without hurting him. That and your own resolve was melting away moment by moment.

"I've seen the way you ogle me at HQ, you want me too..." He growled against your suit. It frustrated him, too much between you both. He pulled your mask off first, admiring the flush in your cheeks and messy hair in the reflection of metal container ahead. If you looked this good already he could only imagine how good you'd look when he was through with you.

"You're not thinking straight Miguel" You hissed through teeth as you felt fanged teeth scrape against your throat. They were sharp, nicking a tear into the neck of your suit. Miguel stilled a moment, arms still tight against you.

"I've wanted you since we met." He confessed against your throat before pressing warm lips to the searing skin. "Please...mi amor" He continued, kissing up to your ear. Your breath shuddered out, feeling limp against his loosening hold.

He was giving you an out, enough room to escape if that was what you really wanted. His claws drawn in, head turning into his shoulder.

"Miguel..." You shifted in his hold and for a terrible moment he felt like you would leave. Instead you turned, weight still resting in his arm. Your arms now free you lifted hands to cup his cheeks, each point of skin against skin burning.

He melted into your touch, turning his face to kiss into your palm. His eyes half lidded as he searched your face for an answer. Your eyes were cast down, staring intently where his lips met your skin. He shifted forward, your hands yielding to the movement.

You kept your eyes locked on his, skin tingling and a gnawing need growing stronger. Your eyes darted back to his lips for just a second before he surged forward.

Miguel's kiss was desperate, hungry, making up for lost time. He stepped forward swiftly backing you against the cool metal behind you. You gasped and he used the space to explore further into your mouth. His weight pressed against you pinning you to the vat.

It was intense, overpowering, his fangs gently moving to nip at your lip. He was still in control, holding back from tearing skin but he could still felt that burn in his mouth.

His hands roamed, squeezing and caressing their way to your hip, savoring every sound he swallowed from you. Before he tugged the garment down.

"Wait." You turned your head, breaking his kiss. He stilled, waiting for your rejection. "I...um..I'm on...like Aunt flo..." you were cut off by his sudden laugh. It was light, teasing, an almost cruel chuckle.

"I know." He met your eyes again amused by the way your cheeks flared. "Can I?" he breathed against your neck, sucking and nipping at the skin.

"Yes." you moaned out as Miguel swiped his tongue against the light bruising. His hand dipping down between your folds, gathering the blood before running a thumb over your clit. You moaned his name, head flying back. God if he heard nothing more for the rest of his he'd be a happy man.

Miguel took advantage of the fresh unmarked skin you'd bared and continued his work marking it. He continued dancing his fingers through your heat, circling around your hole before delving a finger in.

You felt like putty in Miguel's hands, molding yourself against him as you arched off the cool metal as his thumb circled. The finger curled and you felt the tension in your stomach rise, the heat in your skin almost unbearable.

Then he withdrew causing you to mewl. He chuckled again his other hand holding your chin to face him. Then he brought the other hand to his lips, tongue lapping the blood from his fingers.

He watched chest swelling at your darkening eyes as he cleaned each digit. As much as he wanted to tease you the scent had done nothing to prepare him for the taste. This cock straining hard against his suit twitching.

"God I need to taste you." he moaned. Suddenly shifting letting your feet touch the ground again. If it wasn't for his vice grip on your hips, you were sure your buckling knees would have failed you.

You went to protest but his mouth was already against you and your words died in another keening whine. His nose pressing against your clit, shifting as he mouthed and drove his tongue inside you. His own groans and growls vibrating against you.

A knot tightened in your abdomen and your hands flew out to drip into his hair. He growled more, his nose brushing again and again against your sensitive bud until you snapped.

Your knees gave, only held up by his face and hands as you came. Waves of pleasure blinding you further in the gloom as he continued to eat you out through your orgasm.

After the last shudder left you he withdrew, hands trailing up your body to keep you upright as he stood again. Half lidded you kept your eyes on his, chest heaving. Your period smeared across his lower jaw, painting his lips. You both leaned together before a buzz startled you.

Both watches blinked to life, a call to return to HQ ASAP. Miguel stepped back, making sure you were secure on his feet before he let go. Whatever interruption this was he was going to kill them. His mask shifted over his face, before he pressed to answer.

You stood dazed as the portal rumbled open, pebbles drifting into the air as Miguel stalked over to his exit. He paused at the last moment, wide chest heaving and illuminated in the neon glow.

"I'll be right back."

#miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #spider man #across the spider verse #my fics #period sex

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apollosgiftofprophecy · 7 months

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athena and apollo headcanons?

also guess who

@txny-dragon IS THAT U (if not i'm sorry txny is the only person i've really screamed about this with - well, and chronic...👀)

jfhxjbj,sx

Athena and Apollo???!!!! hrmmm...

Headcanons

Athena always got annoyed whenever she saw Hermes hanging around Apollo, especially during 'her' time with him. She's a competitive person, after all. Quit eating up her time!

Apollo got Athena to play the flute again - however, she only plays it around him.

He also taught her how to play the harp. Why the harp? idk, Athena would just look very poised playing a harp

Their first argument was over prophecy - Athena was experimenting with some pebbles for prophecy and Apollo got upset about it and complained to Zeus, who told Athena to leave prophecy alone.

Subtle bonding over being Daddy's Favorite and how that isolated Athena immediately and over time with Apollo.

Athena based her own parenting style off of Zeus's - the only parental figure she has. Apollo based his off his mother's.

The ~PARALLELS~

Surprisingly, their conversations can be like:

Apollo: Athena, NO!

Athena: Athena, YES!

Athena quietly felt bad after the Olympian Rebellion when she saw Apollo's mortal punishment - but she was too self-persevering to think on it for long.

she still snuck him extra ambrosia dessert when he returned and listened to him as he told her about how cruel Laomedon had been

They have friendly arguments over who's city is better - Sparta, or Athens. Athena's mood, however, lowers if Ares is within earshot. Then it turns into a yelling match between the two war gods with an awkward Apollo standing Right There.

Arts and crafts sessions - weaving, painting, usually ends with somebody (Athena) covered in paint and somebody (Apollo) tied in thread.

They both have "Can Use The Aegis" Privileges from Zeus - Athena uses them more often, Apollo has used it exactly once during The Trojan War

Apollo gave Athena the cold shoulder after The Trojan War for helping Achilles kill Hector. Athena tried to tell herself that it didn't matter he wasn't speaking to her - she didn't need friends, after all! - but when she saw how he would speak with Dionysus, Hermes, Artemis, and even - bleh! - Ares over her...it made her stomach twist in ways she never thought it could

She used Orestes's trial as a way to get back into Apollo's good graces - she really did believe Orestes valid for killing his mother (it was on Apollo's orders, after all) but if it came with the perk of Apollo's icy-cold shoulder melting? *zips lips*

As Artemis and Apollo slowly drifted apart, Athena gladly stepped in and started taking up more of Apollo's usual Artemis time - something he thought Artemis wouldn't notice, but she did.

(this, of course, leads to some stink-eyes between Athena and Artemis. platonic love triangle beloved)

Athena is the only one who suspects that the "flaying Marsyas alive" thing was a hoax - she was the one who put the curse on the flute, after all. But she never sensed the death of the one who picked it up.

When Rome came around, and Athena morphed into Minerva, it put Apollo off-kilter. He didn't quite know who this was anymore - sure, she was still the craft goddess he messed around with, and was a heck of a lot more interested in poetry, music, and medicine now, but...she just wasn't quite the Athena he knew.

He became more worried when the raging began. Minerva would flicker into Athena, and Apollo's heart would leap - she's back! she's okay! she's still here! - but then drop as all Athena would do is scream bloody vengeance upon Rome, and he realized that he was right.

Minerva wasn't the Athena he knew...but neither was the one before him.

When his fellow gods' Greek/Rome halves melded together after the fall of the Roman Empire, he was particularly worried about how that would affect Athena - and for a while, it seemed like nothing had.

(Though strangely she was suddenly interested in having kids. Not that there's anything wrong with that, he just never thought Athena would want to be a mom. She never said anything of the sort to him before...)

Then she sent her first child to retrieve the Athena Parthenos. They didn't return. She sent another. Same story. Over and over. Over and over. Apollo watched as Athena kept sacrificing her children for that damn statue the Romans stole.

Apollo tried to talk to her, to knock some sense into her, but nothing worked. Not until they moved all across Europe, and she finally stopped (for now).

In the modern day, they like to visit museums, art galleries, and theaters. Dionysus used to join them up until his punishment.

Athena attends every concert/party Apollo puts on. Partly because she wants to, and partly to flip the bird at Artemis, who rarely shows up.

(i swear i love artemis athena just isn't that fond of her. platonic love triangle beloved)

(txny if the anon is you...you'd get this next one)

Manwhore Manipulate Manslaughter. That's it that's the post.

While it's widely believed that Artemis does a lot of damage control for Apollo when their father cracks down on him - and she does - Athena is another major player in the game. (see: the Parthenon in Blood of Olympus - Athena being the only one to (covertly) defend Apollo, while Jason is the only one to openly defend him. Two underrated people, these two are.)

Why she can't openly defend him? It's because she knows Zeus sweats in his shoes ahem. becomes...concerned when his two favorite, and Very Powerful children form an alliance.

While she was unable to prevent Apollo's third mortality punishment, Athena believed whole-heartedly the entire time that he would return. He had to. He was Apollo, he was her friend, her brother, and he couldn't just leave her by herself die. So when Hermes made that betting pool? She betted on Apollo's success. Partly to gloat to the Council about being right, partly to throw the failed bet into Hermes's face, and partly because she liked winding Ares up.

I also firmly believe Athena was doing some deux ex machina on Apollo's behalf throughout the series. Artemis couldn't get away with it, sure, she had Zeus's eagle eye on her - but Athena? Why would Zeus ever consider her as a possible person to disobey him? Why I never-

The nod she gave him in The Tower of Nero is her equivalent of a bone-crushing hug.

Athena helped Apollo write his story with Calliope's help - they made two versions: the heavily censored version they gave to Zeus for him to parade around, and another, secret version - the one Apollo has in his library, the one Athena has in hers.

The one we have read.

#the oracle speaks #riordanverse headcanons #knowledge n wisdom #anon ask #ask and replies #asked and answered #apollo #athena #aaaaaaa #i love these two #the dynamic #also the parrelism of their children #one (athena's) are raised to glorify and fear their mother #the other (apollo's) love and defend him with all their hearts #it's like poetry it rhymes #the trials of apollo

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starlightshadowsworld · 1 month

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What powers would you give to a son of Apollo Jason?

I'd continue with the theme that Roman demigods are in some way cursed.

By giving Jason both healing abilities and the ability to inflict diseases and such.

Given Jason's name means "to heal" I think it'd be quite fitting.

I think it would be cool if for a long time Jason isn't aware he can heal. He thinks he can only cause people suffering.

And thinks maybe he did something to his mother and that's why she abandoned him.

It would mean Jason has to try extra hard while training because his powers aren't built for combat.

But everyone sees his prowess with weapons like a bow and assume it's because of his parentage. Rather than Jason's own hard work.

I can see Octavian lording it over Jason that he's the Augur, saying at least I have a useful power.

Jason would be very reluctant to ever use his powers, and him being placed on a pedestal because people both admire and fear him.

I like to think he'd discover his ability to heal in the Titan war after seeing his fellow soilders fall.

They're legacies and thus can't be healed by nectar or ambrosia, and Jason just loses it.

Light bursts from within him and he heals them, it takes everything out of him especially after defeating Krios that he blacks out for like a week.

But of course Jason would forget it and rediscover it when a similar scenario happens with his friends.

It also gives him a neat parallel to Will who's also a healer son of Apollo, while his siblings gifts lay elsewhere.

#jason grace #heroes of olympus

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thesteriuswife · 2 months

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Some background info about Theseus' family while I'm thinking about it 💞 half based in mythology half personal HCs. TWs for death / murder / attempted cannibalism and ah... coercion / a sexual situation where there's consent issues literally on every side of it.

Extra background info copy pasted from my Theseus doc:

Tantalus, Theseus' ancient ancestor, is born to the nymph Pluto and the mortal king Tmolus of Lydia. Pluto is also a consort of Zeus; as thanks for her company, Zeus watches over Tantalus as he grows up. When he himself becomes king Tantalus is blessed by Zeus, and given a divine shield and spear. However, Tantalus is distrustful of the gods… To test if they are really all-knowing, Tantalus slaughters his son, Pelops, and disguises his remains as a meal for the gods. However, they realize almost immediately what he has done. Tantalus is punished for his crime by being trapped within the underworld, similarly to sisyphus. The goddess Demeter herself is EXTRA pissed off about it, and accidentally crushes Pelops shoulder bone in anger. However, when she revives Pelops using a mix of ambrosia and his remains, Hephaestus is kind enough to weld a new shoulder bone for him. Poseidon gives Pelops his blessing. He returns to the surface world, and after reaching adulthood he travels to Greece where he learns of a contest for the hand of the Princess Hippodameia. Pelops enters the contest, and with the help of Myrtilus, son of Hermes, wins her hand. However… Pelops makes the VERY stupid decision of throwing Myrtilus off a cliff (out of fear he may want Hippodameia too), and with his dying breath Myrtilus curses Pelops and his bloodline. And so the suffering begins…

Theseus' grandfather is a man named Pittheus, and he is a son of Pelops. He'd traveled to an unified area of the northern Peloponnese alongside his brother, Troezen. This area was once ruled by two brother, but they both passed. Only one of them had a child, a daughter named Arsema. Later, Pittheus takes Arsema for his wife... sometime along the line Troezen dies (I'm undecided on exactly How he dies though), and when Pittheus unifies this area, he renames it to Troezen in honour of his brother. Later, Pittheus and Arsema have a daughter, Aethra. Arsema herself unfortunately dies while Aethra is still fairly young, so for many years it's just Aethra and her father. When Aethra is an adult, King Aegeus of Athens travels to Troezen to seek out Pittheus' wisdom. He has been desperately trying to have a son to no avail, and asked an oracle for advice. The oracle told him something along the lines of "don't loosen the wineskine's jutting neck until you have returned to athens," meaning, "don't have sex until you're in athens again." Aegeus did not understand this, and so he asked Pittheus for advice.... Pittheus did understand. He also saw this as an opportunity....

He got Aegeus drunk, then "convinced" Aethra to sleep with the guy (he did not allow her to have a choice in the matter; he sucks and basically told her "It would have been very easy for me to not come to you first, and the fact that i did is a courtesy." ). ...I'm starting to lose interest in typing this. basically in the dark of the night, athena appeared to aethra and told her to pray to an altar of poseidon; if anyone asked, theseus' was poseidon's son, a rumor pittheus himself would come to spread later as welll. Aegeus did not want to put up with everything that happened; he left behind his sword and a pair of sandals, beneath a rock, so that if theseus was 1. a Man and 2. strong enough, he would be able to find them upon reaching adulthood.

aegeus later returns to athens and marries medea, and he has a son named medus with her. aethra only married when theseus is an adult, to a man named connidas who had tutored theseus when he was a child and sorta acted like a secondary guardian to the young prince (he would gladly act as buffer so aethra did not have to interact with her father directly at times). with connidas, aethra has a daughter, clymene.

#📜 muse's voice #👑 the once and future king (theseus)#hope's ocs

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tagthescullion · 1 year

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Fandom(s): Percy Jackson and the Olympians Rating: T Summary: Luke's quest companion is dead. He's alone, defeated, and not too far from Los Angeles, where Thalia's estranged mother lives. Angry and hurt by Beryl's indifference towards her late daughter's fate, Luke might take justice into his own hands.

Based on this post by iamaweirdbeing!

Chapter 1: Rumors

Luke wiped his hands on his jeans, as best as he could. He doubted they’d look any better, his clothes were filthy. He tried to ignore the red stain on his shirt, but he felt hot tears form in his eyes anyway.

Derek’s death was on him, on him alone. It was Luke who had begged and insisted on going on a quest. It was Luke who had annoyed Chiron until he’d found him an errand to run. And it was Luke who had picked his companion.

The bitterness he’d felt on the week they’d been out of Camp weighed on his conscience. Luke had left Half-Blood Hill throwing a yearning look at the tree that had once been the person closest to him. How he’d wished it was Thalia next to him, not brutish Derek, son of Ares.

But not unlike Luke himself, Derek had been rather desperate for a quest, and since he was –had been– quite the proficient fighter, Luke had seen no reason why not to pick him. They’d got along well enough, even if they hadn’t been particularly close friends.

Chiron had insisted on a third companion. ‘It’s bad luck going on pairs,’ he’d counselled. ‘Three is a lucky number in our world.’

Luke hadn’t listened. The only third companion he would trust enough was Annabeth, but he’d be damned if he’d let the 10-year-old girl risk her life unnecessarily. Besides, he’d been around with Thalia for years, only the two of them, Chiron was full of shit.

Except that he hadn’t been. Luke wasn’t sure he was ready to call it luck. They’d made mistakes, both of them. Luck had little to do with anything.

He found Derek’s necklace in his pocket. Luke had three summers, going on four. Derek had only been at Camp two years.

He blinked the tears out of his eyes. He had to keep going. Being out and about was dangerous, specially since he was alone now. He’d have time to mourn Derek back at Camp.

He caught his reflection in a shop window. He looked awful, and his features made him look suspicious. Any mortal would think he was about to pickpocket them, and since that was exactly what Luke needed to do, it wouldn’t do to look the part.

His eyes focused on the red, angry scar running from his eye to his jaw. It didn’t hurt anymore, after all the ambrosia he’d eaten, but it still looked fresh. Luke wasn’t the vain type, he was aware that he was handsome, but it wasn’t something he took pride in. The scar, however, made him feel self-conscious. It made him look older and angrier, although perhaps it was only the way he felt after the whole ordeal.

He walked down the road, away from the San Francisco Bay. The neighbourhood became more residential, but eventually, Luke found a gas station.

The dirty bathroom was a safe haven. The heat didn’t scorch his neck, and washing in the little sink made him feel much, much better.

There was nothing to be done for his shirt so he changed into the extra one he’d packed –which was, admittedly, not very clean either, after having been used for a few days already–, and threw the stained cloth in the trash.

It felt therapeutic.

Once he was presentable, or as good as he’d get, he left the washroom.

His stomach groaned loudly. Luke still had a few dollars somewhere, he was sure.

He walked up the counter, trying to find some snack that cost less than $2.75, as he rummaged through his bag for extra change.

The woman at the till gave him a worried look. Luke thought for a second she’d realized he was carrying a sword, and cursed the Mist for failing him so randomly, but then he saw her eyes trace his scar. He turned his face away from her, pretending to be absorbed by a newsstand that had a bunch of magazines and papers. One actually caught Luke’s eye.

‘Beryl Grace’s new sweetheart, when will enough be enough?’ It read in big white letters over a photo of a blonde woman holding onto an older, bald man’s arm.

Luke bought a Sneakers bar and a soda, and slipped the magazine into his bag as the cashier was looking the other way.

He didn’t sit down to eat. Instead, he left the gas station and found a park not too far to rest.

The grass was cool under the shadow of a tree, and the tree’s roots made a relatively comfortable sitting spot.

Luke devoured the candy bar so fast he barely tasted it. Washed down with some Coke, his stomach felt a little bit more at ease.

He pulled out the magazine, flipping pages until he found the article on Beryl Grace.

Apparently, she’d had a string of unlikely affairs in the past couple of years: a young entrepreneur, a plastic surgeon, a rising actor… She’d been caught with this new paramour, a vintage car collector, while the actor boyfriend was off filming in Europe.

Luke scoffed. Having her heart broken by the King of the Olympus hadn’t made Beryl Grace any wiser. If anything, she seemed to be trying to best her daughter’s father in the Most Affairs in a Year category.

Thalia used to say her mother had no heart.

‘If you don’t have a heart, how can it be broken?’ She’d said once they’d been speaking about their parents.

She’d also mentioned her mother hadn’t cared when she’d left. Beryl hadn’t reported her missing child to the police, Thalia’s old babysitter had. Whatever excuse Beryl had used to put off the cops seemed to have worked, because they stopped looking after a short while.

On the run, Thalia and Luke had seen a few articles about Beryl. It was inevitable, she’d been a big face on tv, with her gossip programmes, and always fucking shit up.

Thalia pretended not to care, but Luke knew she was lying. Against all reason, Thalia felt bad about her mother’s horrible life choices, and still wanted her to get well.

At the time, Luke had rolled his eyes at her disingenuously clinging to the idea that her mother could ever care. He’d been truly convinced that he held no regard for either of his parents. None whatsoever.

As he grew up, he’d realized that wasn’t strictly true. After being out of constant danger for a while, he’d stopped feeling sorry for himself and that had allowed the space in his mind to feel sorry for other people. Specifically, his mother.

Luke winced as he thought about May Castellan’s pathetic, broken figure, forever alone waiting for a god who had abandoned her, and for a son she had never been able to raise.

He caught Beryl’s face on the magazine and sighed. Looking at her carefully, Luke could see the apathetic dull in her eyes.

Did Beryl know Thalia was dead? He doubted it. Chiron didn’t know who her mother had been, hell, he didn’t know her surname. The only people who could tell Beryl were Luke, Annabeth, or Zeus himself.

The Lord of the Sky didn’t seem like the kind of guy who went back to his children’s parents, specially not to tell them delicate news. For a split of a second Luke was tempted to wait until Annabeth was older, so she’d accompany him to break the news to Miss Grace. But he immediately put the thought out of his mind. Annabeth was only a girl, she shouldn’t have such a weight on her shoulders. Besides, it was Luke who’d travelled with Thalia the longest, and who’d left her to delay the monsters on Half-Blood Hill all those years ago. It was his job to tell Beryl he’d failed to protect her daughter.

It was a slight consolation that Beryl wouldn’t have any real basis to blame the whole ordeal on Luke. It had been her who had mistreated Thalia for years before the girl had had enough. Beryl had been violent, irresponsible, and rather dangerous at times, if Thalia’s memories were anything to go by.

If Luke had failed Thalia in a moment’s decision, Beryl had failed her a whole childhood worth of time.

The thought made him angry. While his own mother hadn’t provided a proper environment for a child to grow up in, Luke had to admit it was partially not her fault, whereas Beryl’s inability to parent Thalia had been her choice, and hers alone.

Luke pondered on how to get to LA for a while. He could go back to Camp, explain the situation to Chiron and—

No. Chiron would try to convince Luke that it was too dangerous. He’d IM Beryl, it wasn’t enough. Luke wanted to see her face when she found out. To witness whether the woman still held a single thread of decency in her to feel pain for her lost child.

He decided he’d go now. San Francisco wasn’t too far from LA. Or not far next to his return to the East Coast. A bus journey, that was all.

The address wouldn’t be an issue, he doubted Beryl had moved in all the time Thalia had been gone. And Thalia had reluctantly shared the address once they’d been talking about the hypothetical case they were found by the police and returned to their respective homes, so they’d be able to find each other again.

There was one detail, though. Before trying to stowaway on a bus, Luke had to find a way to look and smell presentable. It wouldn’t do trying to convince the ticket seller that he was a passenger if he smelled like acrid teenage sweat and looked like he hadn’t slept in a week.

There was little he could do about his fatigue, but a change of clothes would be easy to get in this fancy neighbourhood.

Houses were detached, and their yards big enough that getting into one of them without being seen was ridiculously simple. Luke only had to wait until the sun started to set.

#the enemy of my enemy #luke castellan #beryl grace #hera pjo #chiron pjo #thalia grace #annabeth chase #pjo #pjo hoo toa #riordanverse #mis fics #tagthescullion

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abookishdreamer · 2 years

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Character Intro: Athena (Kingdom of Ichor)

Nicknames- Lady Order by Artemis

Cranium by Hermes

Bossy Pants by Hebe

The Wise One by the people of Olympius

Bestie by Dike

Age- 18 (immortal)

Location- Athens, Olympius

Personality- Athena is very type-A and analytical. She’s intelligent, methodical, stubborn, watchful, and has a bit of trouble with being vulnerable. She doesn’t really understand the prospect of being a child since she was born fully grown under odd circumstances. She’s very proud of her high approval rating in Olympius. She's an asexual lesbian & is single.

She has the standard abilities of a goddess. As the goddess of wisdom, she has many abilities including enhanced craftsmanship, being able to communicate with/shapeshift into all species of owls and other sacred animals, audiokinesis, minor mystiokinesis (like cursing people, certain objects, and weapons), telumkinesis, minor chlorokinesis (as it pertains to the olive), and limited electrokinesis. She also has great battle prowess and an eidetic memory.

She takes the laws of the country very seriously and is unforgivable to those who don’t follow them. Athena also takes offense to those who disrespect the gods, even the minor ones.

Athena splits her time between New Olympus and the nearby state of Athens (which is dedicated to her). In New Olympus, she lives in a blue & gold painted brownstone and in Athens, she lives in a Greek revival style mansion. Both places are immaculately spotless & organized- decorated with the most exquisite art pieces and sculptures. To lay low, Athena mostly gets around in her dark blue modern VW beetle, but nothing beats riding in her chariot- a marvel of Imperial Gold & Celestial Bronze pulled by winged stallions!

She's a feminist. Athena's constantly bringing new legislation for the advancement of women & girls whether it’s through education or the workforce. She recently sworn in the first female centaur as the new police chief for the New Olympus police department. She publishes a monthly academic magazine called O Dianooumenos. She also serves as the top aide for the country’s police & military as well as having a seat on the Grand Olympian Court as a justice alongside her father & other esteemed gods in the pantheon. Athena's also the owner of nationwide libraries (Olive Branch) and bookstores (The Silver Owl) as well the founder of many prestigious schools & universities- Athenium Academy & Athenium University. She also has a chain of school supply stores throughout the country. Athena is also a frequent writer for The Oracle newspaper & Modern Olympus magazine. She is a co-chair of the Athens Film Festival (along with Dionysus & The Muses).

Her go-to drink is an iced latte with skim milk and a swirl of ambrosia honey from The Roasted Bean. She also likes the large hot chocolate. She’ll also enjoy a glass of pinot noir, mineral water, and ginger ale.

A favorite frozen treat of Athena is the olive oil ice cream. Disgusting to most, absolutely delicious to her!

She once competed against her half-brother Ares (god of war) in a gyro eating contest at a Summer Solstice fair. She won, of course!

Her favorite meal is the lamb stifado served with a side of choriatiki. She also likes the sweet onion & steak teriyaki sandwich (with extra tzatziki sauce and olive oil mayo) from The Bread Box.

Her go-to treat to get at Hollyhock's bakery is a salted caramel cupcake. She also likes the almond baklava.

Athena is a co-chair of the country’s Olympic Tournament (alongside Hermes & Nike), Olympius’ greatest athletic competition. It takes place every summer and winter.

Her other businesses include a skin care line called Olive Visibly as well as a line of vitamin water drinks called Strengthify. She recently debuted her own fashion brand (Threads of Wisdom). The fashion is a mixture of minimalist, androgynous, preppy, and dark academia styles (which include shoes and handbags).

Her favorite nail polish color to wear is "dulce de latte", a nudish brownish color from Olmorfia. Athena also likes the shades "meet me at the olive tree''- a dark green color & "metallic jacket''- a chrome silver color.

Athena, of course, loves using the olive oil hair products for Glory's Crown. She normally wears her long curly hair in box braids, but Athena likes other braiding styles as well.

She baby-sat her half-sisters Hebe (goddess of youth) & Eileithyia (Ella) (goddess of childbirth) a few times. Athena described the experience as something she wouldn’t wish upon any imprisoned soul in Tartarus.

One of Athena’s favorite activities to do is work out. One of her other nicknames is “Abs of envy."

She's not really close with her half-siblings, though she is sympathetic towards Hephaestus (god of the forge); despite meeting him briefly only once. Athena and her half-brother Dionysus (god of wine) share an unspoken connection, seeing how they were "born" from their father.

Athena is aware that she's her father's favorite and uses that to her advantage often. Having never met her, she is curious about her mother, a Titaness named Metis who has long since faded.

She's real good friends with Nike (goddess of victory), Dike (goddess of justice); they're BFFs, Bia (goddess of force & power), Alke (goddess of courage); who's often her workout buddy, Hygieia (goddess of hygiene & cleanliness), Clio (muse of history), Calliope (muse of epic poetry) Ekecheiria (goddess of truce & armistice), The Furies, Pasithea (goddess of hallucinations & relaxation), Ganymede (god of homosexual love & desire), Eleutheria (goddess of liberty), and Nemesis (goddess of retribution). She has also recently gotten to know Dike's other close friends Arete (goddess of virtue, valor, & excellence) and Homonoia (goddess of concord). Athena has a good working relationship with Diochetévo (goddess of sewers, garbage, & waste). She views Themis (Titaness of justice) & Mnemosyne (Titaness of memory & language) as maternal figures as well as Chrysanta (goddess of metal). Athena also admires the resourcefulness of Penia (goddess of poverty) & Ptocheia (goddess of beggary).

In her free time, she enjoys archery, exercising, working on her own art, writing (poetry and short stories), fencing, knitting, sword fighting, playing chess, sewing, basketball, playing checkers, football (soccer), visiting the cinema, the theater, the opera, & hosting dinner parties with her close friends. Nothing however beats the company of a good book.

She can play the lyre, cello, violin, flute, clarinet, & oboe!

She "unofficially" does the taxes for most of the people in the pantheon.

Her father gave her a Diamond Ave. owl shaped jeweled clutch for her birthday!

She's also an eternal virgin, but she’s aware of her attraction to women, though she’s never been in a relationship. Athena considers herself to be a sapiosexual- attraction to intelligence. She had a brief unrequited crush on Urania (muse of astronomy).

Despite being respected and honored by the people, Athena has had her fair share of controversy. There was the whole thing between her and a mortal girl named Arachne, the "battle" for Athens between her & her least liked family member, and the most recent heavily scrutinized and talked about scandal- her, Poseidon (god of the sea & earthquakes), and Medusa. Athena refuses to talk about it, publicly and privately‐ to anyone. Not even Dike.

“One who yells the loudest is often the one with the least to say.”

#my oc #athena #my oc character #my character #oc character #oc intro #character intro #oc introduction #character introduction #modern greek gods #modern greek mythology #greek myth retellings #greek goddess #greek goddesses #athena greek mythology #greek mythology #greek pantheon #goddess of wisdom

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midnight-and-his-melodiverse · 2 years

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Hello, and happy Blorbo Blursday! :D I gotta know: How do the halves of Midnight work? Can he switch between them? Also! Was Midnight *turned into* a Night Demon, or was he born that way? If he was turned, how did he react?

Same to you, Jax! Unfortunately, as cool as would've been, no: Midnight is unable to switch between them! Was Midnight *turned into* a Night Demon, or was he born that way? If he was turned, how did he react?

This is interesting in the way Midnight works... ok, so: When he was 12 and in his first year of middle school, (the school system in Penwood is fucking weird fyi), Midnight encountered a bully by the name of Vulcan at lunch period (which is also interestingly how he met Ambrosia (who is his girlfriend) for the first time. Through Midnight's argument with the bully, Midnight suddenly passed out. When he came to, he had just finished swearing at the bully who now laid on the ground motionless. The environment around Midnight was also slightly damaged.

Scared of what just happened, he was called into the office, where his parents assured him everything would be alright and that they'd sort things out.

By "sort things out" however, Midnight did not expect there to be an exorcist by the house the next morning. The exorcist did his job and by the time he was done, he had effectively 'split' the Night Demon half from him. Though of course, that half wasn't truly gone and instead replaced with a ghostly apparition that presented itself as the personification of Midnight's negative thoughts, named Staticlight.

Also an extra tidbit: The transformation of Night Demons, according to an urban legend called the "Midnight Curse" (unrelated to Midnight, the character, btw), is known to be the proper way Night Demons form. Usually no-one expects them to be in there, dormant and waiting, at birth.

Thanks for the ask!!

#answered asks #blorbo blursday #themelodiverse

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talesofesther · 3 years

Text

Anchor - Part 13

Five Hargreeves x Reader

Masterlist with the other parts

See part one for important notes

A/N: Oh I know you guys have been waiting quite some time for this part, and I'm sorry it took me this long. But I really didn't have much time lately and I haven't been able to focus. But anyway, it's finally here, I truly hope you like it. And I have to say that the next part might take some extra time to be posted too, but don't worry, I won't stop writing ♥. If you wanna be added to the tag list, let me know. ♥

The first rays of sun painted the sky and birds could already be heard from outside. The curtains from the open window flew with the slight breeze that was coming in. The cold air made Five snuggle just a tad closer to the comfortable warmth beside him.

About a minute passed before his sleepy brain realized what just happened. Five tensed even before opening his eyes. The boy took in the feeling of an arm holding him close, a hand clasped loosely around his own, and soft and steady breathing just beside him.

Five's eyes opened and his heart almost stopped. It took everything in him to not full-on panic right then and there. She was so close. Y/N was laying beside him, their noses just barely touching and she was holding him. Five felt the skin in his hand prickle. What happened last night? He couldn't remember, he knew he definitely didn't fall asleep like this.

The boy felt his breathing become ragged and anxious. He felt lost, scared even. He shouldn't be here. He wanted to, but shouldn't. Five closed his eyes and gulped trying to calm down, he never woke up having someone beside him. He analyzed Y/N's features for a moment, she looked so peaceful, so relaxed... So beautiful.

Five's expression softened, and he gently touched her nose with his. He would gladly wake up to this every morning if he could. He felt guilty for wishing that, but it was inevitable.

With the softest movements he could muster, Five freed himself from her grasp. His chest tightened in protest, telling him to go back to her.

Sitting up on the bed, Five looked at her. Bringing one of his hands up to brush a strand of hair away from her eyes, he lightly caressed her cheek and brought her blanket up to her shoulders to protect her from the cold. Five let out a long sigh as he buried his face in his shaky hands. Feeling a drop of wetness escape his eye.

He wanted to punch himself. For getting so attached to her, for letting his lonely heart fall for her. He tried to deny but it was impossible now. Five curled on himself, bringing his knees to his chest, he was desperate. He told himself he had no right to feel like this towards her, that it was wrong and he didn't even deserve it. And yet the feeling never left. Five's heart was already hers.

If someone told him before that he would fall in love with a girl like this, he would laugh, say it was impossible. But he didn't take into account how damaged he was, how much he needed affection. And when she gave it to him...

Five shook his head and chuckled. He didn't know what was worse. Realizing that he loved her, or the fact that she would never love him back.

Shame and guilt washed over him as Five wiped his eyes and got up from the bed. His chest hurt with every beat of his heart as he looked at Y/N's sleeping form.

______

Y/N's eyes opened not too long after Five left. The girl instantly felt the empty space beside her, stretching her hand on the mattress where Five should be. She cursed herself for being so tired and not hearing him leave.

Sitting up on the bed, she stretched herself and ran a hand through her messy hair. Looking out the window to the rising sun, Y/N assumed it was still kinda early in the morning.

After she went to the bathroom and fixed herself, she made her way to Elliott's kitchen, and could already hear people talking there.

"... We only have one option. It's time to get The Umbrella Academy back together" Five's voice echoed through the kitchen as Y/N reached the room and braced herself on the threshold.

Diego and Luther were sitting at the table, Luther was eating a very large plate of scrambled eggs. Elliot was just beside Y/N and Five was braced in the counter with a coffee mug in his hand. "Morning guys" Y/N's sleepy voice greeted them.

"Hey Y/N" Diego smiled at her.

"You're.." Luther started, pointing an unsure finger at the girl's direction.

"Y/N. Klaus's friend, remember?" The girl smiled at him.

"Right" the big man smiled back and put another spoonful of eggs into his mouth. "Hey, can one of you get Allison please?"

Diego's eyes widened at his brother as he leaned a bit closer. "You two still a thing?"

As the two talked, Y/N walked to the counter to grab herself a cup of coffee as well, which was just behind Five. The girl's eyes regarded him with certain insecurity behind them. Five was tense. For all she knew, he could be mad about what happened last night.

"Morning Five" Y/N gave him a half-smile when she stopped just in front of him.

He didn't meet her eyes, his fingers holding the mug started to go white. Five stepped aside so she could reach the coffee pot. "Y/N" was all he said.

Pouring coffee into her mug, Y/N bit her lip in nervousness. Holding the mug between both her hands, she turned to face Five noticing he was wearing his uniform again. For some reason that brought a tiny smile to her lips, and she reached out a hand to touch his arm, but he took a small step away from her.

Five clenched his jaw and tried not to show any emotions on his face, even if he was feeling a million of them. "I'll get Allison" The boy put his mug down and walked past Y/N like she wasn't even there.

"Can you uh- get Vanya without squeezing her to death?" He stopped and looked at Luther.

The big man gave him a humorless laugh. "I'll try"

Five just nodded and started to walk away.

"Five, I'll go with-" Y/N started, but before she could finish, Five was gone. The girl scoffed and closed her eyes with an annoyed smile on her face.

Diego smirked at Luther upon seeing what happened, but Luther only shot him a confused glare.

______

"I'm not eating that" Y/N whispered to Vanya. Them both, and Luther, were sitting beside each other on Elliott's couch. While Diego sat in an armchair as Elliott excitedly shared the story behind an ambrosia he had just made. But it looked more like some kind of gone wrong slime.

"If we have some will you shut up?" Diego said with a bored voice.

"Maybe" Elliott proceed to put some of his ambrosia in a bowl.

"How are you feeling?" Luther turned to Vanya.

"Pretty shitty to be honest"

"Where would you say you are on a scale from one to... Ending all life on this planet?" Diego stepped in, turning a knife in his hand.

"Diego, stop with the knife, she's fine" Y/N complained.

"Last time I saw her she had me suspended mid-air, sucking the life out of me with energy tentacles" he continued to play with his knife. "I think I'm allowed a little time to process"

"I would like to see an energy tentacle" Elliott said, amazed.

"You wouldn't" Y/N whispered to him.

"I don't remember what I did, but I'm sorry... If that means anything" Vanya sat up straight and said with an honest voice.

"It does" Diego's expression softened all of a sudden. "I'm just going through a lot right now"

Before anyone could say anything else. The front door from downstairs was opened and they all could hear people talking coming in.

A sweet "hello?" Could be heard as Vanya, Diego, and Elliott got up and looked down at the new arrivals.

"Oh, I know this is impossible but... Did we all get sexier?" A shiver ran through Y/N's body as she heard her friend's voice, she got up so fast she almost got dizzy and ran to the railings to look down.

Five, Allison and... Klaus stood downstairs, looking up at them. Y/N could already feel tears welling up in her eyes. "Klaus?" She said almost out of breath.

Klaus's eyes met hers and his expression softened. "Y/N" his hand came up to his mouth and he slowly walked to the stairs.

"Oh my god" the girl said as she ran down the stairs as fast as she could to meet her friend, almost falling down in the process when she slipped in one of the steps.

Y/N threw herself at Klaus and clutched to him like her life depended on it. The tears now falling free from her eyes while she held the fabric of his shirt between her shaky fingers. "I missed you so much" the girl chuckled amongst her tears.

Klaus held her body against his just as tight. One hand on her back and the other holding her head in a comforting manner, he closed his eyes and buried his head on her shoulder. "I missed you too, so goddamn much" he smiled as his own eyes filled with salty wetness.

Five watched his brother and Y/N with curious eyes. Feeling a weird sensation in his chest upon seeing them both so... Close.

All the siblings greeted each other as well and also shared some curious looks, none of them has ever seen Klaus be so sentimental with someone.

Y/N pulled away from her friend but her hands remained on his chest as a means to make sure he wouldn't disappear. "I- I love your hair" the girl said with a big smile, admiring Klaus's new look.

"I love yours too" the man said as he used his thumbs to clean what was left of Y/N's tears and gave her a kiss on the forehead.

Five's breath hitched when he saw that, he felt uncomfortable and had to look away. "Let's get down to business" he said and made his way upstairs.

***

Thank you for reading ♥ the next part should be out soon. And if you have any idea about how this story should progress or anything you would like to see in it, please send me an ask or message and I’d be happy to include it. All opinions and feedback are appreciated ♥

Taglist

@alexander-hamilhoe @noneyeahbusiness @anapocalypseinmymind @yikes-matey @vicfull @flowertoty @shlokage @flaminghotcheetoos @moneyyhoneyyy @n1ghtsh4d3-67 @nappinggecko @megasimpleplan4ever @peterbeans @greeknerd007 @my-things-things @malfovs @sweetjellytine @soft-slytherin-sweetie @marylimlp @lunna-does-real-doodle @sauberwisch96 @weepingplaidhoundpanda @tired-of-this-shit @moatsnow @yourbloodyqueen

#five hargreeves #five x reader #the umbrella academy #tua #five hargreeves x reader #five x you #imagine #fluff #angst #slow burn #number five #number five x reader #anchor #fanfic #my story #five tua #klaus hargreeves #five x y/n #tua x y/n

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writingletterstothefire · 3 years

Text

She Loves Me

Chapter 1

A/N: Hi guys. It’s been a minute. Here is the long awaited (by no one) She Loves Me AU. I’m putting chapter 1 out here in the hopes that people waiting for updates will spark some creativity in me again. I’m sorry it’s short. If you enjoy, let me know

Word Count: 1703

Warnings: not proof read.

The sun was blazing down on you as you scurried down the busy New York sidewalk. The summer had decided to be blazing hot this wonderful morning, and you had decided to be extraordinarily late for work. Well, perhaps ‘decided’ isn’t the right word— you’d overslept on account of staying up extra late to finish a letter to your Special Friend.

There was no shame in using a dating service, you knew that, yet for some reason the very thought of joining one was something that you had scoffed at for so many years. “I want to meet someone organically,” you’d complain to your friends, “those services are full of strangers who have the weirdest quirks.” To be fair, that had been true in your brief experience using a dating service in college. It was definitely an odd time, figuring out exactly what ‘watersports’ meant. Needless to say, it had taken one single date for you to decide to withdraw your application and swear off dating services.

But you were getting older. And men seemed to just get more and more picky, the older they got. So, when you stumbled across an advertisement in your Sunday newspaper for a matchmaking service called ‘Special Friends’, you jumped at the opportunity. The directions were simple; you filled out the survey in the paper, mailed it to the listed address, and then your answers were compared with other submissions to find the best match for you. Once you received your match, you were to write a letter to them introducing yourself and signing off under the title of ‘Special Friend’. The two of you were given a specific P.O. box to drop your letters off to, provided by the matchmaking service. The only real rules were that the letter had to be handwritten, and you were only allowed to give real names if both parties agreed on it.

Your Special Friend was a true kindred spirit. It had been six months of trading letters back and forth, and the two of you spoke about everything, from your childhoods to your favorite books, from dream destinations to worst fears. About three months into this correspondence, you knew that, whoever this Special Friend was, you loved them. You stayed up until all hours of the night writing draft after draft until you formed the perfect letter. Because of this, you were often late for work in the morning.

Late. That’s right. You were very late. You willed your feet to move you as fast as they possibly could, cursing yourself for choosing this morning to wear heels. Finally, you managed to burst through the door just minutes before opening, scurrying to the back to drop off your bag. You made a mental note to yourself to start carrying flats in your purse, in case of emergency.

You’d just finished touching up your makeup in the small staff room mirror, when you felt someone sidle up beside you. You didn’t have to turn your head to know who it was. The smug energy emanating from his every pore was enough to confirm your suspicions of who was next to you. Santiago Garcia. Your worst nightmare in human form.

“Can I help you with something, Mr. Garcia?” You didn’t even spare him a glance as you finger-combed your hair, which was now windswept from your impromptu jog.

“Not at all, Miss Y/L/N,” Santiago flashed you a smile that, in any other circumstance, would have been charming. You, however, knew that pure contempt lurked behind those pearly white teeth. “I was just marveling at the rare sight of you, here, on time!”

“And why would that be something to marvel at, Mr. Garcia?” you scowled.

“Well, simply because it’s never happened before!” Santiago leaned against the wall, charming smile morphing into the smirk that often adorned his chiseled face. “You know, Miss Y/L/N, you may want to stop frowning so adamantly. At your age, those frown lines tend to stick around.”

“At my age?!” you nearly shrieked at him. “Mr. Garcia, need I remind you that you are older than I am!”

His smirk only widened. “Yes, but you seem to forget that one of us is ageing with grace, Miss Y/L/N.”

Your scowl deepened, and you shoved past him, making your way to the front of the store. You never did understand why Santiago didn’t like you. From the first moment you stepped into the department store, it seemed like he was trying to usher you out. Sure, when he thought you were a customer, he was the most charming man you’d ever spoken to. But once he had realized that you were trying to apply for the new salesperson position, he wanted nothing to do with you. He had insisted that there were no positions available, but Frankie Morales, his friend and co-worker, was quick to usher you to the owner’s office. Mr. Bailey had been a hard man to charm, but when you made your first sale to a woman who was insistent that she was just browsing, he hired you on the spot. After all, you’d gotten her to buy not one, not two, but five jars of various creams and lotions. None of Mr. Bailey’s workers had ever managed to sell that much in one go, not even his prized Mr. Garcia.

Making your way to the front of the store, you said hello and gave a kiss on the cheek to Frankie and each of the Miller brothers, Will and Benny. All three of the boys were quick to welcome you, despite Santi being the unspoken leader of the pack. They quickly became your protective band of brothers, something you’d long wished for as a young child.

“Good morning Frankie! How’s Elisa doing this morning?” You asked Frankie, your tone surprisingly chipper after dealing with Santi in the staff room.

“Round as ever!” Frankie exclaimed, a wide grin on his face. “The doctors estimate that the baby will be here in about a month, and Mr. Bailey’s been so kind as to let me have a month off after the baby arrives. I know it’s going to take a toll on Elisa, and I want to be there for her as much as I can.”

Sometimes, Frankie just melted your heart. It was so plain to see how much he loved his wife and their incoming baby. Their little family was everything you wanted. You only hoped that one day someone would love you just as much as Frankie and Elisa loved each other.

It was beginning to seem as though your Special Friend was never going to reveal himself to you. You had offered to meet for dinner on a few occasions, and each time he insisted that he had prior appointments. You didn’t want to assume anything, of course, but you were getting worried. Surely he wouldn’t lie to you about having a prior engagement, would he? But then, if he was so eager to meet you, as he claimed to be, then why did he never offer an alternative date?

On your way home from work, you stopped at the P.O. box. Your Special Friend had forgotten— or, well, neglected, you supposed— to write you the past two days, but you were adamant about writing at least every other day. You knew how much the letters meant to you, and if they brought him even half as much joy, you wanted to be sure he got it. Perhaps, if you hadn’t been so caught up in your own head, you would have looked up and seen the figure walking away from the wall of P.O. boxes.

To your surprise and delight, there was a letter waiting for you in the box when you finally opened it. If you hadn’t been so excited to read it, perhaps you’d have noticed the flash of a coat turning the corner as they walked away from the wall of boxes.

You hurried to open the letter.

Dear Friend,

I am so sorry to have not been able to write these past few days. Work has been an absolute train wreck, what with the most irritating co-worker constantly fumbling about. Somehow, the boss claims it’s my fault. Could you believe it? My fault that my imbecile of a co-worker is incapable of doing the simplest task that doesn’t involve talking a mile per minute?

But enough about that mess. I am supposed to be apologizing to you, my dear, sweet friend.

I know that you have been wanting to meet me. I am so sorry that I haven’t been able to make any of our appointments. As I’ve told you before, I was once in the army. An experience in war is one that I don’t wish on anyone. It takes a toll on you, emotionally, mentally, and physically. Because of my experience, I’ve decided to counsel other veterans and help them through their traumatic memories. On the nights you had wished to meet me, I’d had previously arranged counseling sessions, as well as one doctors appointment, a check up to see how I am recovering after all of my surgeries that I’ve told you about.

All of this to say, dear friend, that I’ve cleared my schedule for the night of the 27th. If you are available, I would love to meet you at the Ambrosia Garden down on the corner of 12th Avenue. I’ve made a reservation for two under the name Elizabeth Bennett, after you expressed how much you loved Jane Austen’s ‘Pride & Prejudice’. If you show, I will be wearing a purple rose on my lapel. I will look for you, where you will be holding a copy of ‘Pride & Prejudice’, with a purple rose tucked between the pages.

I sincerely hope to see you on the 27the, dear friend. I’ve been longing to meet you since we first exchanged letters, so many months ago.

Sincerely,

Your Special Friend

You had to meet him. You would get to the Ambrosia Garden on the 27th, no matter the cost. You’d find out who your Special Friend was if it was the last thing you did.

#santi garcia x reader #santiago garcia x y/n #santiago garcia x you #santiago garcia fanfiction #santiago garcia #santiago x reader #santiago garcia x reader #she loves me au

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thecorvidcurio-if · 9 months

Text

Cursed Ambrosia Progress Update 08.07.2023

Hi, hello, I hope your week is off to pleasant start. Apologies for the lack of formatting in this progress update, I'm away from my computer right now.

Most of my work this past week was focused in learning new aspects of Sugarcube coding so I can achieve certain things in this chapter. I'm learning coding as I work on this project, so when I hit something like this where I'm not sure how to make something work, it slows things down a bit. I have it figured out now though and that bit's been coded into the game, so things are moving swiftly onward.

There may not be a progress update this coming Monday as I'll be taking a bit of a break to avoid burning out on this. I'd rather it not become a chore that I have to force myself to trudge through. I'll still be working on it when the mood strikes but I won't be trying to adhere to the strict schedule I've been trying to keep, as I think it's starting to wear on me a bit. Thank you all for reading, as well as for your patience and understanding.

As an extra thanks and an apology for the lack of progress update next week, here's a sneak preview of Vicente's scene in chapter 3:

Note: This snippet is from an unedited first draft

#cursed ambrosia progress update

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pjoseries · 4 years

Note

“i bear it so they won’t have to” + curse of achilles percy

oh this one’s a doozy, thank u emma 😋

(TLO AU)

══════════════════

Percy doesn’t know how he didn’t notice it—the bloodlust. It starts out as a whisper, a simple low hum drifting across the nape of his neck. It crawls in his ear and settles inside his brain and every time he uncaps Riptide, a single persistent thought crosses his mind: Show no mercy.

And he doesn’t. Not when a hoard of monsters comes barrelling through their ranks. Not when he sees the other campers on their feet, but flagging, exhaustion bogging them down as monster after monster charges at them. Percy holds his own on the front lines, raising his voice to be heard, “Fall back!”

He repeats it again for good measure and the piercing, confused stares from them quickly fade as he gains the attention of every monster in his vicinity. A grin slides across his face and he gives Riptide a twirl.

“How many of you do I have to kill before you get with the program,” Percy taunts. He lets one of them come close enough to sink their claws into his skin, but it just slides right off, ripping through his shirt instead.

The monster gapes for a moment and attempts to slice through him again, but Percy just tsks and tilts his head. “Nice try, but no dice, man.”

He impales the monster in a quick movement, leaving him in a shower of dust. He grimaces and looks at the others. They march towards him, but Percy doesn’t even think. He blocks and jabs and slices his way through the dust and the dirt and he feels nothing. The curse really works.

He doesn’t know how long it takes to slay the last monster. He just knows that at the end, he’s drenched in monster dust and sweat. Percy finally rolls his shoulders, taking in the damage. The borders are safe for now. He spots a few campers a ways away limping and handing each other ambrosia. Footsteps come towards him and he whirls and points Riptide at empty air.

It takes him a moment, but even that’s too long, before he lowers his sword. It’s Annabeth, of course. He furrows his brows. He knows it’s her. She wipes the sweat off her forehead and tucks her cap into her back pocket.

“Percy, what was that?” she asks, gray eyes glinting in the afternoon light.

“I, uh,” he says, pocketing Riptide back into his jeans. “I’ll tell you later. We have to check on—”

Annabeth stomps towards him and grips his arm. Logically, he knows how tight of a grip it is, but it’s weird that it doesn’t even sting. “Did you… gods, you didn’t. That trip with Nico… Percy, that is stupidly dangerous.”

She knows. Of course, she figures it out. Percy’s just a fool for thinking he could have broken the news to her later.

“I did what I had to do.” Percy grits his teeth and steps back.

She tugs him closer. “You could’ve died.”

Percy makes the mistake of looking into her eyes again, shiny with unshed tears and he falters. He can’t stand to see her cry. He musters up a wry smile and shrugs. “I’m here, though.”

He tells her nothing of what he saw as he made his way out of the River Styx, doesn’t say a single word about how the first time he ever felt like he would drown that her voice was the only thing he grabbed onto. All he does is loosen her grip with his free hand and gives it a small squeeze.

“I’ll tell you more about it later, okay?” Her hand is warm and callused from training and it takes him a few seconds to remember he has something to say. “We need to go to the Big House.”

Annabeth just nods and he lingers for a moment before he lets go. As they make their way to Chiron, their hands brush and all thoughts of the fight vanish from his mind.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

It’s on the bridge when he gets an inkling that something is wrong, not with the curse or with the battle itself, but him. It’s similar to the last fight, Percy yelling at the Apollo campers to retreat, but the last of the monsters are dead. All that remain is Kronos himself and his demigod army.

He slows himself down, aiming to knock them off their skeletal horses and send them running, not maim. Their swords bounce off his skin harmlessly and Percy vaguely notes that he’s ruining his already low supply of shirts.

The voice is louder now, but still the same. Persistent as a tic: Show no mercy.

Shut up, he wants to bite back, but he already looks insane just charging through a swarm of demigods and coming out completely unscathed. They make their way almost to the middle of the bridge when Percy freezes, like a lightning bolt just jolts through his body. Then: Annabeth screams.

“Annabeth!” he yells and turns. A guy stands over her, his knife bloodied and dripping. Percy sees red and the voice persists louder again and he’s almost tempted to take its advice if it isn’t for Annabeth’s weak gasps.

Percy would’ve died, if not for Annabeth and Annabeth’s dying because of him. Because he’s too damn focused on that stupid voice in his head that makes him want to tear the bridge apart and everyone in it. She doesn’t even know that’s his weak spot.

He locks eyes with the demigod—Ethan, his mind supplies—and stalks towards him. In a beat, Percy slams his sword hilt into his face and feels a bitter sense of satisfaction as he grunts out in pain and moves away. A couple of other demigods try to come closer, but he swings Riptide as a warning.

“Get back!” he growls. “No one touches her.”

Kronos merely hums. “Interesting.”

Percy just scowls and steps closer to Annabeth. Suddenly Achilles words come back to him: The heel is only my physical weakness, demigod. He was dumb enough to ignore Achilles’ warnings and now his weakness is staring him right in the face, her face turning ashy as her breaths weakening. Annabeth. His tie to the mortal world. He should’ve known. Maybe somewhere in the back of his mind, he always knew, but the war took precedence. Now look where it got him.

She’s dying and he’s surrounded by enemies.

“Bravely fought, Perseus Jackson,” Kronos says. “But it’s time to surrender, or she’ll die.”

Annabeth sits up and groans. “Don’t.”

Percy clenches his jaw and bites back the panic at the sight. Her shirt is soaked in blood and he has to get her to a healer. His mind swirls for an escape route and, in a second, he yells out, “Blackjack!”

The pegasus swoops and carries her out and away from any immediate danger. Percy’s glad he knows what to do because he doesn’t have any time to explain. Luke—Kronos’ face twists.

Percy meets the scythe with Riptide.

Then their battle begins. And for once, Percy lets the voice in his mind take over.

Show no mercy.

Percy smiles. He won’t.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

The voice stays with him, long after the war ends. Despite how many hours he’s clocking in that affects his sleeping schedule, or the lack of one, he notices that he’s itching for a fight.

It makes no sense. He wants to rest, but the voice tells him he has the curse for a reason. What use is he to his friends, to his family if he lets them go off on dangerous quests to get injured or worse? A couple of extra more hours of sleep is a petty consequence when it means saving everyone the trouble of getting hurt.

So despite Annabeth’s warnings, he volunteers to guard the fleece, or to head training, or to do any of the more dangerous missions. There’s an undisputed agreement amongst the campers that they’ll let Percy do whatever he wants which is kind of weird but it works in his favor, so he’ll take it. Well, unless their names are Annabeth and Grover, that is.

But after this one quest—if he can even call it that, maybe just a favor for his father—Percy lands back on the shore, sitting with his knees tucked to his chest. His hands tremble as they flex over his own legs. The water rushes to his ankles, an attempt to calm him down but he just flinches. It just makes things worse.

Percy’s no better than the monsters he fights.

He wonders if monsters never exploded into dust, if they bleed like he does. He wonders how much blood he’s spilled, how much it stains his hands, his heart, his soul.

“Percy?” Annabeth says quietly. She pads over to him, settling down right next to him. The water drenches her shoes, but she just places a warm hand on his. “Percy, hey. Are you… okay?”

Her tone is awkward, but there’s an earnestness to it that makes him soften slightly. So he lifts his shoulder in response and stares out into the water.

“You don’t have to do this, you know.”

Percy clears his throat. “Do what?”

“Go on all these quests. Try to save everyone. The war’s over, Percy. You can just enjoy camp like everyone else, too. You don’t have to do everything. You’re not Atlas.”

“Annabeth, this curse… I have a responsibility. Why let everyone else get hurt if I can do it? They’re just kids.” Percy unfolds his legs and lets Annabeth’s weight ground him. It’s like the voice gets muffled when she’s near. “And besides, I bear it so they won’t have to.”

Annabeth’s fingers find his cheek and he crumbles under her touch. He turns and Annabeth has this expression on her face that he can’t parse out. He closes his eyes and lets her smooth out the wrinkle between his brows, lets her trace a swooping pattern on his cheek. “You’re sixteen, Percy, not sixty-five. You have to let yourself take a break, Percy. The others need to know how to survive out there without you. You’re not always gonna be there to protect them. You’re gonna run yourself to the ground and I’d like to see my boyfriend awake once in a while.”

“Guess my eyes have to be open for that.” Percy smiles into her fingertips and blinks exaggeratedly at her. She giggles and it sends warmth all the way down to his belly. She stands up and brushes off the sand from pants before she holds out her hand.

Golden light shines behind her, circling her like a halo. He’s suddenly reminded of his dip in the Styx, the way dream-Annabeth held in her laughter as she grabbed his hand and pulled him up. Real-Annabeth wiggles her fingers and he lets her haul him up.

“Promise you’ll take it easy?” she asks.

And his answer is an easy one. He kisses the side of her head. “Promise.”

Then they walk back to camp, their hands swinging between them.

#percabeth #percabeth fic #percy jackson #annabeth chase #f: pjo #p: percabeth #misc: fr #misc: fic #fic: living on a wire #t: ask #emma tag #*#my writing #bipercabeth #je réponds #la poste #prev. biannabethchase #100

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greekbros · 3 years

Text

"greek-Bros: Character Headcanons prt2: The Boys ™️"

Heracles:

He is literally the 2nd strongest individual in all of Greece. The first is Atlas and the 3rd is Dionysus.

Every single thing that has happened to him is canon. The labors, the romantic nights of crossdressing when he was a slave, everything. He doesn't give a flying fuck about what you think he did. There is a likely chance he may have done it, whether he wanted to or not.

He's the tallest and most heavily built of Zeus children. It continues to baffle Hera and Zeus how Heracles is so large. When he started to grow olders, Zeus was worried if Heracles was the "prodigal usurper" that would over throw him, but solved this by having more children.

Heracles doesn't have any weaknesses nor fears. This effectively makes him the biggest threat to.... literally every other devine entity.

He doesn't hate Hera. Oddly enough he is fully aware of her frustrating marriage, so as penance, he tries everything to help her with whatever ever meaningless task she wants him to do. He basically is an unwanted adopted son to her. On Hera's side, she despises him, and she equally hates the fact that he's even alive, but it breaks her heart everytime Heracles does something nice for her.

After years of enduring cruelty, he still doesn't hold a lot of ill will. It's just a part of his strength.

Inspite of his polite and stern demeanor he actually does have a short fuse, he just chooses when it would be inappropriate time to lose his temper.

He has been married 1 1/2 times. His first marriage was rather normal until Hera ruined it, he was "pretend" married to Queen Omphales when they were doing their thing, and is currently married to Hebe.

He's actually a big softy, when he smiles it's considered as rare as a blue harvest moon, it's just that his face is so muscular that his default expression is "resting death face".

He actually enjoys hanging out with his more powerful siblings with the main exception of Ares and Aphrodite. He considers Ares to be "too immature to fight him" and he's too much of a legendary dude bro to fuck Aphrodite, he just wants love not fuck.

He can be bashful at times, mostly when he is told to either display himself or flaunt. He became bashful after his year of slavery with Omphales. It was more of a time of discovering he genuinely may have some deepseeded issues and Omphales helped him out figure out his insecurities.

Perseus:

He's considered Zeus's favorite demi-child. Mostly because Zeus considers him a "little earthly version of Apollo". Perseus however dispises this comparison.

He's currently in his mid 30s, yet he's still concerned the greatest hero in all of Greece. In some arguments he's always compared to Heracles, much like how one would compare Superman and Batman.

If he had a voice actor, it would be William Defoe. He's gives off this vibe of an old school kind of man with a side of chill.

He isn't too proud of his status as a demigod. It all started when he had to kill Medusa. The thing is that Medusa was the more prettier sister of the three legendary Gorgons however she was also considered the kindest out of the three. So when he kept being pressured by not just the fact that he had to save his mother from the marriage she did not want, save Andromeda from a sea monster that was being sent to kill her, and extra pressure from the gods too reclaim his honor as the son of Zeus... He had to basically do something he really did not want. Little did he know at the time, there were other means to be successful in his mission, years later when he discovered this he had become disillusioned with the glorious image of being a demigod. This ended up affecting him personally, affecting his marriage and ultimately a motivation to continue his quest to be a hero for the sake of helping those who need it most...not for glory.

He has this charming tooth gap that he's had since he was young. It's a distinguishing feature that basically separates him from being compared aesthetically to Apollo. He's also has a little stubble, riddled with small scars and abrasions from his many battles.

He with do a background check on you and your request, he has had plenty of experience with people trying to take advantage of him. Being a man who is willing to do the job correctly and as best as possible, people tend to hire him in order to give rid of whatever creature is just mildly inconveniencing them.. a good example would be if a farmer notices there's a griffin nearby but the Griffin isn't doing anything so he hires Perseus to kill the Griffin so it doesn't kill the goats, Perseus will find every way to either remove the Griffin from location or the farmer himself. He tries nearly everything to make sure he doesn't end up killing anything in the end, ironically this is what makes him an effective hero.

He's currently divorced with andromeda, due to his own personal and our struggles it's affected his love life to an extent where he is considered emotionally distant or just uninterested in being married. he doesn't have any infidelity issues or anything he just genuinely lost his motivation as a person but regained the motivation to be a better hero. Turns out Andromeda was the one who was cheating on him, he doesn't have any ill will against her surprisingly and he can't blame her either.

He has a 5 year old daughter who lives with lives with Andromeda. He always finds a way to secretly stop by to say hi and give her a gift.

The only person he tolerates from Olympus is Hermes, he still seems to see him more as a mentor and older brother than anything. He has a more professional relationship with Athena but after the conflicting information both her and Poseidon gave him when he had to kill Medusa, he tends to be very cold to both gods.

You actually never had ambrosia until Heracles introduced it to him, that was the day when he was deemed a full strength demigod. He's still angry at that because he wanted to die in peace of old age or in battle. It's the only thing Heracles is genuinely remorseful for.

He actually sees Pegasus less like a pet and more like a really oddly shaped brother. Turns out after he dug further into the situation, he found out that technically Pegasus is a half brother. so he just has full blown conversations with a creature that can't respond to him in human language, nobody really understood it at first until he explained it to Heracles and only Heracles.. because he loves being spiteful that way.

Theseus:

This is although equally as handsome as many of Zeus's sons, he's probably the least intelligent. It's even argued that he's actually less intelligent than Ares.

He's a complete himbo, outside of his lack of intelligence, he's also extremely vain. Both Perseus and Heracles theorize that if it wasn't for the promise of marrying minos's daughter, he probably wouldn't have helped in the first place.

In between heracles, perseus, and the rest of Zeus's sons, he's the second shortest. The shortest is Hermes. Hermes continues to be any perpetual cycle of distress and mild apathy because of this.

He's also the top person on Dionysus's hit list. For abandoning Ariadne, Dionysus cursed him to consistently get attacked by random animals.. specifically leopards and or animals of the felide family. Theseus still hasn't any idea that his lack of animal magnetism is actually a curse.

He genuinely does not know Ariadne is still alive, he's convinced himself that she abandoned him or just went back home for some bizarre reason. It's also never occurred to him that he may have accidentally left her on an island, it is not known rather or not he actually abandoned her on purpose or just because of unbridled ignorance.

He's surprisingly resourceful for somebody who couldn't figure out how to get through the labyrinths correctly the first time, he actually took one turn before he went directly back to the entrance and tried his best to go any deeper but still went back to the entrance. His resourcefulness may come from Poseidon's side of the gene pool.

Ironically, Zeus actually has no idea if this one is even his kid. There's an ongoing rumor amongst the Olympians that Poseidon and Zeus may have accidentally slept with the same woman, unfortunately it is not known rather or not Theseus it really is Zeus's or Poseidon's son. The two brothers rather not fight over this because it really doesn't matter in the end.

Due to Theseus's self-righteous arrogance, many of his ventures usually results in his god-given resourcefulness helping him out. Most of his success is attributed to either giving himself all the credits or simply assuming that he actually did something. this angers Perseus and Heracles quite a lot actually. And oddly enough unlike the two, Theseus never actually had to do anything above simply appearing and "solving the problem". His most iconic triumph right next to killing the Minotaur, was actually slaughtering a few Amazons. Ares is till this day trying to formulate the worst and most painful way to kill Theseus.

He's actually a bit of a coward.

He maybe currently king of Athens, but mostly because Athena directly influences him from time to time. Apparently he doesn't have the mental fortitude to resist Athena's control. Good for her because he isn't a really good ruler.

Achilles:

He's the sturdy brother. Prior to his injuries, he actually was similar to Ares but he was a little more clever. He was the best warrior in his army and he was the assisting tactician.

Post injuries, he has lost an eye, Perseus had to amputate his messed up leg thus he had a prosthetic foot made by Hephaestus, and he two more mental injuries. PTSD from his battle at Troy and the brain damage from an arrow that went through his eye.

Because of his brain damage, he can speak in incomplete sentences. He also has outbursts of wrath and acts out his battles. When he's speaking in full sentences, he's going through a thing where he genuinely believes he's back to his old life, going as far as referring to anyone around him as people he use to know, this actually maybe a side effect of his ptsd. Heracles and Perseus are aware of these quirks of his and does their best to make it less problematic for Achilles.

It's been century since the downfall of Troy, after somehow surviving the process of death through means that even he can't remember, Achilles seems to be immortal in both senses of the word. He neither aged since the downfall of Troy and it doesn't seem that he died from his wounds like he should have. Because of his prolonged existence in the underworld, he has also gained the ability to see ghosts, unfortunately the others think he's just simply talking with "the ghost of his past" and think nothing else of it.

Hades actually wasn't aware of Achilles's existence in the underworld until many of the residents started complaining of disappearances. After some thorough investigations, Hades found him basically living feral in the more isolated portion of the underworld where it seems he was surviving off the flesh of anything that would come across his path. At first Hades tried to help him pass on, but Achilles had other plans so he battled Hades instead and survived. Hades may have won but he has a large scar on the base of thigh from his encounter.

His invulnerability didn't actually come from his mother dipping him in the river Styx, or at least that wasn't fully the way he could have became invulnerable. One actually has to consume a little bit of the River to become fully invulnerable. When Achilles was a child, he was just merely dipped in it thus it gave him invulnerability until his skin was broken by the arrows, when he found himself in the underworld, he couldn't find any fresh water so he drank from the Styx instead. That is when he became fully invincible to the point of godhood. Now he's arguably even more indestructible than Ares.

Achilles actually seems to be have been completely hardwired differently after his experience. He isn't a genius, but he does seem to find solutions to things in unexplained ways.

He sees Perseus and Heracles as proxy soldiers and brothers-at-arms instead of biological half brothers. Never having any knowledge of them until they rescued him from the underworld.

He REALLY doesn't like Poseidon and Ares, the interesting part is that he doesn't understand why. It's as if he can't remember why he hated them so much, he has a passing apathy twords Apollo. He also doesn't understand why occasionally Apollo stares him down like an angry dog, infact Apollo never really elaborated on the fact that it was Achilles who desecrated his Temple back at Troy. Many of the gods actually don't fully understand what is going on with Achilles with the exceptions of Hermes, Ares and Dionysus. Since all three gods understand how mortals physically work, they can sympathize with him. However, every time when Ares interacts with Achilles, it always seems to look like someone put two male honey badgers in the same room with a shiv and a pocket knife tied to their heads when they're done fight.

He's likes horses, he actually tries to talk to them like as if it was his fellow soldiers. In reality, many horses he talks to are actually reincarnated warriors from various parts of Greece. some have no memories of their past lives, and some are fully aware that they've been reborn into a completely different life. In some bizarre senses Achilles accidentally may have coined the idea that horses are just reincarnated soldiers who died in battle. Strangely enough it's the only set of individuals he has fully constructed conversations with instead of just incomplete sentences perfectly summarizing his thoughts.

Achilles knows how to use almost every single weapon you can give him and for some reason he can learn how to use a new weapon that he's never seen before in just a matter of minutes. This is because he apparently has really good muscle memory and half of the time he just accomplishes so many interesting things because of it.

He genuinely enjoys watching Hephaestus and hangout with him in his workshop. He likes the dimly lit but warm workshop, he find it far more comfortable than the cold and damp cavern he'd stayed in after he "died".

No one is certain how he even survived to begin with. Some of the rumors that have stemmed from this situation say a Fury took him in out of pitty and nursed him back to moderate health, to Eris being responsible for his survival.

He's surprisingly stubborn for somebody who may have lost 10% of his brain function, memory, and who consistently goes through War flashbacks much like an old veteran would. At this point basically he has the physical strength and energy of somebody in his mid-twenties but the demeanor and temperament of somebody in their late eighties. The only way you can coax him to do anything is to simply trade with him. This could be either new weaponry for him to practice with, or just a snack.

#greek bros #greek-Bros #the boys™️#achilles #heracles #perseus #Theseus #greek gods #greek mythology #greek myth #character study #hellenistic

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zebrabaker · 4 years

Text

The Goddess of Life, The King of Death: Chapter 10

I LIVE!

They had been in the palace for five days, five very busy days. Altogether, they had had maybe an hour to relax together. Allegra, Claude, and Allain were busy as well, running back and forth between the underworld and the heavens, trying to make sure that everything was still running while Persephone and Felix were making last minute wedding plans.

The dress Persephone had brought with had kept her up every night, sewing by the light of enchanted lanterns. It would be exquisite, but it was taking far too long to finish. At this rate, it would be done the night before the wedding, but only just. She pricked her finger for the thirteenth time in the last hour and cursed, shoving the ichor-coated digit into her mouth. Once she was sure the ichor had stopped, she carefully inspected the pearlescent lace to ensure it wasn’t stained.

Persephone heaved a sigh and slowly stood from where she had been seated on the floor. She had been given a side room to work on the dress in, so that if Felix stopped by, he wouldn’t accidentally see the dress. It would be perfect, if she could finish it. Yawning so hard her jaw let out a satisfying crack, she stretched out her arms and made her way to her bedchambers to get some sleep. She only had a few hours till dawn, and she had another busy day ahead.

X0X0X

Dawn came far too early. It felt like she had only just closed her eyes when there was a knocking at her door.

“’Sephie?” Allegra’s voice called. “It’s time to get up, we need to discuss seating plans, and the menu, and of course the music. I know you have the first dance song picked out, but there’s a great deal left to do, and we only have two days!” Persephone let out a mighty groan as she sat up, rolling her neck and stretching her shoulders. She was desperately in need of a hot bath to sooth her sore muscles, but right now she hadn’t the time.

“Be out in ten, Allegra!” She called back, trudging over to her wardrobe. She shoved a few dresses aside before settling on a gown Felix had given her as a gift. It had dozens of intricate beads on the bodice and along the top of the sash around the waist. It was a rich shade of eggplant, with delicate cap sleeves and a small slit on each side of the A-line skirt that revealed her favorite shoes. Her and Allegra had developed a habit of visiting markets around the world to see what the humans had created now. This pair was Grecian, a set of sturdy sandals that wrapped around her calves several times, reaching her knees. They were surprisingly comfortable and made her legs look great. She checked her reflection one last time in the mirror, nodded, and headed into the hall.

“There you are!” Allegra cheered. She was wearing a lovely shade of aquamarine that made her eyes pop, and a snake arm cuff that she recognized from some Roman booth they had visited a few weeks ago.

“Sorry, I was up late working on the dress again.” Persephone sighed. “Please tell me you have – “

“Coffee from the kitchens, completely black?” Allegra giggled, holding up a massive mug. Persephone kissed her best friend on the cheek and took the bitter drink, sipping slowly. While Persephone drank her coffee darker than the deepest pit of Tartarus, Felix took his with three pumps of nectar, extra whip cream, and ambrosia sprinkles. It came from early mornings in the bakery, helping her parents before Noroo had even raised the sun. She had learned that the more bitter the coffee, the more energy it granted.

“You are the best friend I could ever ask for, Allegra!” Persephone sighed after downing half the mug. “Now, what did we have to do today? We have the dessert handled, and Felix says that the boys all have outfits planned. What else is needed?”

“Like I said, we need to finalize the menu with the chefs, make seating plans for the reception, and the music aside from the first dance. Come on, we have the same sitting room as the other day set up and ready to go.” Persephone nodded, and the two took off down the winding corridors of the palace.

X0X0X

It had been six hours, but everything was finalized. The seating plan had taken the longest; between where to sit her family so that people wouldn’t realize who she was till after the ceremony and trying to make sure that none of the Underworld family would be placed by someone who held any grudges (Claude tended to prank the wrong people). But it was all done, down to the smallest detail. The muses would be providing music for everyone, the dinner plans had been made (guests would choose between beef or fish, green beans or broccoli, side salads or soup, and there was rolls from the bakery and cake for everyone), and the seating arrangement was finally done. Persephone was sagging. Who knew planning a wedding was so complicated?

“Sephie!” Allegra called, snapping her fingers in front of her friend’s nose. Persephone startled and blinked rapidly at her friend. Allegra giggled a little, before pulling her up from the arm chair she had slumped in. “A certain someone is here to take you to lunch.” Perking up, Persephone looked over to the door to see Felix standing there, smiling at her.

“Hello, dearest.” He said.

“Hey, love.” She murmured, crossing the room to press a small kiss to his lips. He hummed and set a hand on her waist, as if to ensure himself she was real. “What’s this about lunch?”

“I may have set up a small surprise for you. Come on, it’s this way.” HE gently guided her, keeping her close to his side. She smiled, and began to run him through the plans they had made. Felix and the boys had been in charge of double checking the guest list and the RSVPs, to ensure they had enough for the number of guests attending. It had also been up to them to plan security and entertainment. She only hoped that they hadn’t gone too overboard. After a few minutes of walking in content silence, he stepped away from her and spun around, holding out a hand. Persephone didn’t recognize the area they were in; it was part of the palace she hadn’t had time to explore.

“Ready dearest?” He asked, setting one hand on the door handle. “I need you to close your eyes. Trust me?”

“Always, love.” She smiled and set her hand atop his as he flung the door open. She gasped at the sight laid out before her.

The doors lead to a massive interior garden, with a stunning white gazebo in the center. There was a small floating string quartet, playing a gentle melody, encompassed in a golden aura. Set in the middle of the gazebo was a small round table and chairs, with a simple yet delightful looking meal. It, all in all, was an exact replica of the place they had their weekly date night in the Underworld, in the small grotto she had made her first day there.

“Oh Felix!” She murmured. “This is perfect! It’s exactly what I needed. I’ve been so stressed, and this is so lovely!” He stepped up behind her, pressing his chest to her back and wrapping her in a tight hug.

“I know, dearest. I saw how hard you’ve been working, and I can’t tell you how overjoyed I am that you agreed to marry me in the first place. I know that tradition says we can’t see each other tomorrow, so I decided we needed to spend all of this afternoon together. Allegra, Claude, and Allain are handling the last minute details, so we are completely free.”

“I love you so much, My King.”

“I love you too, my king.“

@kuroko26 @crazycookie13o @princesskitomi @miraculous-of-salt @luluthorn @phantasmagoricalzenith @ginamariepotterhead @mikantsume @miraculousl4dybug @our-cool-jenny @myownworldstayout @lunatheenemy @bluerose-deer @tinybrie @itawonka-creates @saltynexus @pan-cakez @lady-charinette @tis-i-beanbandit

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hear-me-growl · 4 years

Text

Ambrosia | Ksj | Chapter V

ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ Aᴏ3 || Dɪᴏɴʏsᴜs ·ᴘᴜʙ· ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀᴘᴏsᴛ || ↻ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

> ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut, humor, fluff | s2l > ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: millionaire!Seokjin x bartender!, nyotaimori model!Reader > ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: mature [+18]; strong language and explicit sex > ᴡᴏʀᴅᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 6.9k

sᴇʀɪᴇs ɪɴᴅᴇx || ⟵ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪᴠ | ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴠɪ ⟶

💙 ᴀ/ɴ: holy shit, this one’s is a big boy. This chapter has been a nightmare. I’ve been stuck on it for weeks. I had it planned and all, but for some reason it didn’t feel right. The tone was getting way too angsty, so I rewrote the whole thing multiple times. 😩 Hopefully you guys like the end result!

Next chapter will be the final one, I think? Depends on how carried away I get 😅 Is anyone else excited for these two idiots? Let me know!

“My head is killing me.”

“Lightweight.”

A streak of sunlight filtering through the curtains reminded you both that life went on outside your smelly apartment. You opened the window to let in some fresh air, which makes your friend shriek and hide under the blanket. Last night’s scraps —half eaten chips and pulp-less lemon wedges— came to life under the light. The leftover still life accentuated the taste of alcohol on your mouth and you walked to the kitchen in need of something to wash it off.

Best friend bonding nights ended up inevitably in hungover mornings. That is, using the term “morning” loosely. It was a routine you both had perfected. First you sneaked shots at work and went to your apartment after closing. Then you did even more shots, talking and laughing over whatever sappy movie you were pretending to watch. Last but not least, you both fell asleep on the couch Tetris-style.

At the sound of you waking up, your cat-shaped demon strutted proudly towards you. She tangled between your legs, making you trip to avoid stepping on her and hitting something in the process. With a curse, you rubbed your sore knee while trying to remember where you set her food last time. She was a genius glutton, so you had to change the hiding spot constantly. Otherwise she would get to it, no matter how high or locked it was. Impatient, the feline followed you around. Shortie joined her high pitched meows, complaining about the noise. As you exited the bathroom with her precious pebbles, the feline purred happily. You kept the light on for your best friend, who hurried inside to purge any leftover mistakes from her stomach.

The flush went on while you poured some juice for her. Wiping her chin, she joined you in the kitchen with a grimace.

“I’m too small to drink that much. Never again.”

“You always say that and never keep your word.”

“Don’t expect it to be any different this time,” she downed the glass desperate to wash off the taste.

“At least you’re consistent,” you quipped.

Sitting on the counter, you pushed a plate towards her before chomping on your breakfast. While you hummed a song you couldn’t remember, Shortie eyed the butter as it melted on golden bread for a minute. An annoyed groan brought you back from your thoughts.

“Ughhh… I’m pretty sure I’m gonna puke last night all over again.”

“Are you dissing my breakfast-making skills?” You turned to her, quirking a brow. Her eyes widened, and she shook her arms, making a fuss.

“No, no! It looks amazing, really, but my stomach is—”

“Chill,” you interrupted her with a satisfied grin. “I’m just messing with you.”

“I hate you,” she glared while you picked up her plate. No way you’d let it go to waste. “Glad to see you’re enjoying the new toaster.”

The incredulous look you gave her, as if she hit her head somewhere, made Shortie giggle. She could tell you appreciated her gift. Bribe. There was a blurry line between those terms.

“Not enjoying, loving. Bitch, have you seen it? It’s yellow and says ‘I loaf you’. I loaf you. This is the peak of my existence,” you raved between mouthfuls.

“Well, at least you got something out of dating a millionaire...”

“Don’t start with your Seokjin crusade,” you warned with a groan. What nice way to ruin breakfast.

“What? I didn’t say anything yet?”

Feigned innocence always looked good on her, all doe-eyed and pouty, brows sloping at the end. She took advantage of it whenever she could, but hungover you wasn’t having it.

“I mean it,” you hopped off the counter, rounding her to wash the dishes. “It’s too early for that shit.”

“It's past 12.”

“Exactly,” you grunted.

Just a few seconds passed, silence only disrupted by your scrubbing. Your friend nibbled her lip as she did when she mulled over something.

“Well, it’s not like those old ones you are used to, but I’m happy you like the thing,” she chirped, standing next to the toaster. “You should listen to me more often. I mean, look at it! Beautiful, elegant, funny and it definitely knows how to toast your bread.”

Her hand slid across the shiny surface distractedly, but still scanned your reactions from the corner of her eye.

“Very subtle.”

Ever since she met Seokjin at the bar, he seemed fixed on the idea of you dating him. She managed to shift the conversation towards him one way or another. A skill as impressive as it was irritating.

“He came by the other day. Again. I forgot to tell you.”

“Thanks for the report, soldier, but you don’t need to notify me every time he shows up. I don’t care.”

“The best sex you’ve ever had crosses Seoul, sits alone and orders a single drink just for a chance of seeing you. It’s my moral obligation to let you know.”

“He might like the place,” you shrugged.

Shortie closed the faucet to get your full attention. No need to take a look at her to know exactly the frown she wore —the one that made you feel like a child being scolded. In a weak attempt to avoid it, you left the kitchen. She followed you closely, not giving you a chance to escape.

“He likes you.”

“I’m flattered.” Unfazed, you slumped on the couch.

“We talked for a bit, you know? Poor guy wanted to know why are you avoiding him,” she continued as she sat beside you.

“Poor guy? Not your finest word choice,” you snickered, triggering an exasperated eye roll.

“I don’t get you. You say you don’t give a damn, but you hide under the counter whenever he shows up. You won’t respond to his texts, but you read them all. You say he’s just another random hookup, but then admit it felt different —good different.”

“When did I say that?”

“Last night,” she chuckled implishly, reaching for an empty bottle on the floor and shaking it teasingly. “You always spill your guts with tequila.”

She kept her gaze fixed on you. Shifting a bit, you scratched your neck to relieve the uncomfortable itch of the conversation. Why did she have to press you on the matter? If he was so damn perfect, she should marry him. You’d even hold her up for the kiss to spare him the back pains.

“Your point is?”

“Stop being so stubborn and give him a chance. Not just for him, for you too. I know you don’t need it, but you deserve someone who takes good care of you. He’s into you and you’re into him, so what’s the problem?”

“I’m not—”

“Nope, can’t fool me,” she grinned. “I see the way you look at your phone. Sorry to break it out to you, but he’s got you hooked.”

“Ok, now I know you’re still drunk. He’s the opposite of my type.”

“Your type is crap. Plus we both know that’s not the reason why you push him away.” She took a breath after rolling your eyes and occupied yourself with a loose thread on the blanket. “It’s been three years since your ex, I think you should give Jin a try.”

“Hey! We agreed not to talk about The Maggot.”

A well-deserved nickname for that wormy bastard. Just a few months with him, you’d reached the lowest point in your life. He feasted on the lack of self-love you’d accumulated through the years and wrecked all the progress you’d made since leaving home. He seemed to grow bigger the more wounded and hurt you were, so he made sure you felt like shit. Thus: The Maggot.

“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” she stuck her tongue out when your face puckered. “Give him a chance, not everyone is like that jerk.”

“Since your weird obsession with Seokjin is clogging those cute ears, I’ll say it again: I don’t want a relationship. It always ends up being a mess, I end up a mess and I’m tired of it. I’d rather have fun, no strings attached,” you shrugged.

“Look, babe,” the sudden tenderness in her voice formed a knot that you forced down your throat. “I know better than anyone that you’ve been hurt before. I get it, it’s scary. There’s nothing wrong with hookups, if that is what makes you happy. Just don’t let all the assholes before Jin scare you out of love. It doesn’t suit you, you’ve always been the fierce one.”

The both of you stayed like that for a while. Shortie rubbed circles on your back, waiting patiently for you to sort things out on your own. She wanted to hug you, but you knew she wouldn't push you anymore and you appreciated her understanding. With a heavy sigh, you turned to her.

“Let’s just take another nap, I have work tonight.”

“Ok,” she complied with a bright smile that made you forget the mess in your head before pointing to the couch. “But, please, not on this spine-wrecker.”

Late. Again.

The red bulb shined mockingly, brighter as seconds passed. The erratic drum of your fingers on the wheel only unnerved you further, but they had a mind of their own. Tonight’s event was big and you’ve spent extra time pampering yourself to look your best. No one wants sushi on hairy legs. However, your cat decided that it was as good a day as any to battle the living room lamp, which hit the glass coffee table when defeated. To top your exasperation, she had the audacity to look upset at your scolding. Insolent punk.

You arrived at the location, a tall mirror reflecting Seoul back at you and checked the address once more. Top floor, naturally. What was with businesspeople and heights? Must be nice constantly looking at the world from above. You checked yourself in the lift’s mirror, to put any hair that got wild with the rush back in place. Tapping your foot, you glared at the numbers passing by on the screen. For a spaceship-like elevator, it was pretty damn slow. Just your luck, Tanaka was in the kitchen tonight. Whenever you worked with him, you found a new level of stress you didn’t know you could reach. Being the best sushi chef at the catering, he could make anyone lose their job just by saying the word. To add to your luck, he hated your guts. You became his least favourite model since that one time you might have showed up a bit tipsy. However you absolutely did not fall asleep as he claimed, just rested your sight —two minutes maximum. Guests didn’t even notice. Next thing you knew, he was yelling something about his art being disrespected by a westerner, berserk mode on. So he definitely wouldn’t take well you being late. You sighed heavily, hoping that at least the froth coming from his mouth didn’t spray in your direction.

Ding

Shit. Tanaka had to be furious, he never texted. Hell, he barely even talked to you. Reluctantly, you unlocked your phone, mentally prepared for a scolding. You breathed once you saw the screen —Kim freaking Seokjin and his timing. Numbers increased in slow motion as you considered answering. You really should ignore him, but there were fifteen floors left. Enough time for you to try to get through his thick skull that you wouldn’t go out with him again.

Doors opened suddenly and you jumped a bit. Moment of truth. Anyone else would’ve been scared of the pair of sharp eyes that greeted you —disintegrating every single cell in your body— but you were no coward. After an uncomfortable apology, you took off your clothes and laid on the table so he could begin his artistry.

You found out that Tanaka was even scarier when he gave the silent treatment. As you felt him and his kitchen helpers place food and decorations on your skin, you simply stared at the ceiling. Soon enough your head filled with a bit of everything: shopping list, your dad’s iconic moustache, the lightbulb that needed changing… Eventually, your mind gravitated to Seokjin. It was a common occurrence these days, much to your distaste. Not only did he show up at the bar or texted randomly, he had to pop into your head too. He just made way through your mind, pushing aside everything else. As if you didn’t have anything better to think about. Even his abstract self could be an arrogant jerk.

Was it cruel to let him believe that you were out with someone else? Perhaps, but that was your last resort to keep him at bay. Most likely looking for round two, he’d been persistent —obnoxiously persistent. To be honest, you couldn’t blame him. On a scale of one to ten, your night together made the scale its bitch. After almost a month, you still found yourself spacing out thinking about it. A little guilty pleasure that you’d never admit out loud.

Of course you could always give in. You’d call, ask about his day and go somewhere nice just to end up in his bed again. You could’ve stayed that morning with him instead of running away. But you knew those deals already. Love always came with fine print. Jealous outbursts even when they were the cheater or nasty comments about the things you were proud of. Maybe they enjoyed making you feel small and worthless just so they could look better next to you, like The Maggot. Or perhaps they just wanted to fuck the dumb, foreign girl because “she’s a freak in bed”. The list went on. No one knew better —you’d been through all of them. Dangerous men, all wrapped with charming personalities and big smiles to distract from the trail of broken hearts behind them. Given how your face lit up whenever your screen did, Seokjin was one to be especially careful around. His unread texts meant trouble.

Blocking his number would’ve been the smartest solution. Quick, like ripping off a bandaid. Still, there was a part of you that wanted to wait and see if he’d grow tired of chasing after you and go find an easier target. Not if, when. So far, he’d lasted longer than you expected.

A heavy sigh was your queue to sneak a glance at the chef, currently wrinkling his nose at work in front of him. He checked his watch before turning to his ever-tense kitchen helpers.

“Guests are arriving soon, so this will have to do. I can’t do miracles. We’re 15 minutes short on presentation time thanks to someone’s incompetence and we don’t have nearly enough greenery to cover all the imperfections.” The not-so-subtle side eye at you didn’t go unnoticed. “I’m not proud of tonight’s piece, team. We’ll have to compensate for it with an impeccable service.”

Hearing disappointment in their superior’s voice instantly glued eyes to the floor. You winced, knowing it was your fault.

“Well? Don’t just stand there, idiots! Move, move!” He ordered, making them all jump and scatter like scared mice.

With that, he turned around and zeroed in on you. Upper lip raised, the chef got closer until he was towering you. His imposing demeanor had you squaring up as much as you could without the food on you falling. Tanaka’s favourite activity was intimidating others. Enough dealing with bullies taught you that is best not to show them fear.

“I know I’m asking a monkey to do magic, but try not to ruin my night further or I’ll personally make sure that you never work again,” he spat before walking away.

Silent treatment was definitely better. That man’s tongue was sharp as his knives. You released a breath you didn’t know you were holding and let your muscles relax. It was going to be a long night.

“Everything looks spectacular, Mr. Choi. Wouldn’t expect less from a man like you.”

An hour in and no incidents so far. Tanaka had relaxed a bit. Not around you, of course. Whenever he came to check, you could feel his eyes slicing you up like hamachi. However, the other cooks and the service left the kitchen far less horrified.

Two men chatted by the table you laid on. Head filled with nothing you kept your eyes on the intricate ceiling with a blank expression. Usually you didn’t pay much attention to the conversations around you —too much business talk. However they sometimes served as distraction for the ache of laying still for hours.

Tonight’s host, Mr. Choi, an older man with a neat haircut and small hands, turned his head to you. “I chose the model specifically for you. I thought you’d feel more at home with a bit of western flavor to your food, Mr. Harper.”

“Everything is perfect, I’m grateful for your hospitality.” He took a piece of sashimi, his gaze lingering on you. “Is this a Korean tradition?”

“Japanese. I find nyotaimori an exquisite showcase of artistry, although it is an unusual practice. Forbidden in some countries, even.” The older man got closer to the other, as they inspected you.

“I envy you, Mr. Choi. Your eye for beauty is as sharp as the one for business.”

“It is, indeed,” he chuckled. “My old friend Mr. Kim told me you and I would get along. His son has a gift for reading people and he speaks highly of your company. I think you’ve met him already?”

“Yes, I have. I’ll admit I was discouraged when Mr. Kim sent his son to talk business instead of doing it himself. Five minutes with the boy, and I realised my mistake. He’s a bit younger than me, but he has experience and confidence way above his age.”

“Just like his father, that old devil. Look, there he is. Perfect timing, as always,” he turned with a beaming smile and gestured for someone to join the conversation. “Come here, son! We were talking about you just now.”

With an odd feeling in your gut, you bit the inside of your cheek. Not him. There’s a Kim every two Koreans, please, not him. From the corner of your eye, you catched a glimpse of the man approaching before averting your gaze.

The universe hated you.

“Only good things, I hope,” Seokjin bowed and the other two chuckled. “Good evening, gentlemen.”

“Mr. Harper here was telling how happy he is to do business with you.”

“The feeling is mutual.”

“I thought you wouldn’t come, son. I know you’re not a fan of these parties.”

“I couldn’t miss yours, Mr. Choi. Anyone in business knows: if you want to make the right connections, here’s the place.”

“Ah, always working. I’ll warn you, Mr. Harper, Seokjin here is a professional even after leaving the office. Since you two are close in age, I’m trusting you to make him loosen up a little,” he patted Seokjin’s broad back. “Come on, son. Get something to eat.”

There was a pause and the background noise quieted for a moment. Eyes fixed anywhere but him, you didn’t see his reaction once he realised you there. Would he wear the smirk he gave you when he saw you the first time in this exact position? Or would he arch his brow slightly like he did when something picked his interest but didn’t want it to show? Surprised at your own knowledge of Seokjin’s expressions, you didn’t realise him approaching until his voice rang much closer than before.

“With pleasure.”

His silhouette blocked the ceiling light, that shined like a halo around him. The eclipse-like effect would cover his reaction even if you dared to look. You felt your cheeks heat up and your toes curled nervously. He made no further comment, but you did notice his slow movements as he chose something with chopsticks. Despite your breath quickening, you didn’t take your eyes off the ceiling.

The conversation with his peers flowed casually, all business deals and market values, though you couldn’t focus on it anymore. Not with his efforts to draw your attention back to him. Standing near your table, Seokjin picked up something from your body every now and then. Whenever you felt his presence closer, something stirred deep inside you. A mixture of arousal and mortification. What if he told them about your night together? They’d probably lose their appetite, knowing their sushi platter made a mess on someone’s sheets. If you still had a job by the end of the night, you’d lose it. Though you doubted he’d even admit he’d fucked you, it would ruin his image in front of his partners. How many men like him admitted all the secretaries and maids and other nobodies they got frisky with? In his world, big names didn’t look good next to small ones. At the same time, the memory of his mouth on your skin and the dark ink of his lovebites on your neck the day after messed with your ability to think straight.

Eventually, he excused himself and greeted someone else, brushing your ankle when he walked past. You tensed immediately. Looking in his direction for the first time, you caught the faint outline of a smirk as sauntered away. The greater the distance he put between you, the easier it was to relax. Shortly after, you realised he wouldn’t allow it.

Time passed lazily, minutes turning into decades built up the stress of the night. First the incident with the chef, to whom you’d surely have to suck up to later in hopes he forgave your lack of punctuality. And then Seokjin and his cruel way of keeping you on edge. Without a phone screen or the bar counter as barrier, ignoring him proved to be tougher than you’d thought. All throughout the night you heard his voice, sometimes closer than others but never enough for you to figure out exactly where it came from. He wanted to make sure you didn’t forget about him, that he could approach and tease you whenever he pleased. At some point you grew tired of the tension.

Body perfectly still, you scanned the room until your eyes met. He kept talking to the expensive suit in front of him, but his gaze was undeniably locked on you. Mischief and playfulness poured out of his dark orbs and a little bit of something else. Maybe annoyance, maybe lust. It was usually hard to decipher his expressions, but even harder when he masked them for the other attendees. He seemed a different man, giving plastic smiles for his plastic friends —the tiny creases around his eyes nowhere to be seen. You missed them.

The little exchanges and glances grew bolder since that moment. For anyone else in the room, Seokjin behaved as the heir of one of the biggest companies in Korea should. For you, however, he’d lick his lips while devouring your body from afar or wink at you whenever he caught you staring back. To your surprise, no one seemed to take notice.

No matter how hard you tried, avoiding his gaze proved to be pointless. Like a magnet, your eyes were drawn to his before you could register it. It only spurred him to be more daring and it kept you on edge, afraid of him doing something that could cost you a paycheck.

At the end of the night, the clink of glasses and the frivolous chatter thinned and tangled with the slur of goodbyes and the buzz of waiters cleaning up. Only a small group was left. They smoked big cigars and discussed politics, faces red with alcohol, while you discreetly stretched your neck and counted the minutes. Just when you thought the night was almost over, your body tensed once more when you heard a familiar voice.

“I don’t think ‘mouthwatering’ does you justice, sweet cheeks.”

His words ringed too loud for your liking and your eyes bounced around the room. The smokers were too immersed in their secret competition for the biggest, rarest cigar and the workers seemed too eager to go home to pay attention. Seokjin sensed your apprehension and placed a hand next to your head, resting his weight on it so he would look straight down at you. You took a sharp breath when his thumb caressed your temple and you jerked away on instinct, the contact scolding your skin. His eyes briefly shot up to check if anyone had noticed the sudden movement, but landed immediately back on you.

“I like your dress, by the way,” he added. “It matches your imaginary date.”

An ugly scowl settled on your face, but he chose to ignore it. Tilting his head, he trailed down your form as you warned him with a huff. When his gaze met yours again, it narrowed dangerously. Even if his face was serene, his eyes weren’t. All the colors around you stirred in his black pools, a mysterious kaleidoscope you had never seen on them before. Your tongue itched from the unspoken expletives as you glared up at him. Without a sound, you gracefully mouthed a “fuck off.”

“Don’t look at me like that, the sushi is going to turn sour,” he grinned. “Can’t resist getting naked for me, hm? Next time I’d appreciate a warning if you are gonna show up like this. Do you know how difficult it is to do business with you teasing me?”

Your brows shot up at his words. Only if you could tell him to get his egocentric ass out of his mouth.

“It’s cruel to take advantage of my weaknesses, sweet cheeks,” he tutted. “Not fair play.”

“I am working,” you reminded quietly through a clenched jaw, voice low and gritty with irritation.

“It hasn’t stopped you from ogling me like you want me to fuck you senseless in front of everyone.”

Once again, his carefree tone felt dangerous. Although the remaining guests' cackles overpowered his words, for you they still boomed too loud. So much, that your traitorous body rumbled at his suggestion despite the fear of being discovered.

He caught the subtle way your teeth trapped your bottom lip before it tightened in a line. Not even your frown could hide your pupils expanding and he smiled wolfishly. You’d tried so hard to keep him at a distance, to act cold around him. The weeks after he woke to the lingering bittersweetness of your perfume he’d been wondering why. Right there and then, he got his answer.

“You’re gonna get me fired. Leave.”

“Then tell me why are you avoiding me,” he asked, although he didn't need to.

“Get a pen, there’s a whole list of reasons,” your quiet retort made him chuckle darkly.

“Will you read them to me after work? If you’re good, you’ll get a spank for each one,” he winked. If anyone looked in your direction, you would be in trouble. He was too close and the flowers on you laid off their designated spots.

“Just lea— ”

The rasp of a throat clearing tore the air and your body became stone. Seokjin straightened his back calmly, not even bothered by the interruption, but your head whipped to the noise at lightning speed. You felt the petals on you fall on the table, followed by a piece of sushi.

“I’m awfully sorry, Mr. Kim. But the nyotaimori exhibition is over. If you wish to eat something else, our buffet is still open.”

Tanaka snapped his fingers and two waiters picked your table and brought you into the kitchen. You didn’t miss the throbbing vein on his forehead when he bowed for the millionaire.

The pleasant bell of the elevator mimicked the end of a boxing match after a knock out. Utterly defeated, your feet dragged on the beautiful carpet that led you out of the building.

Your head was pounding with the echoes of the chef’s harsh scolding. A few of your coworkers chatted by the entrance, but quieted down when they spotted you. No need to be a genius to know the nasty things they whispered as you walked past them. They’ve witnessed the scene just moments ago. Tanaka yelled and yelled while you just stood there, drenched in all his anger. Pathetic excuse of a model. That’s what he called you. From his point of view, you broke your obligations and tried to get a millionaire’s attention. Someone who, as he kindly reminded, would never mix with the likes of you for more than a fun night. His hurtful comments didn’t end there, but that part stuck with you the most.

Cold hit your face as you exited the building, freezing any lingering thought and you breathed out to fill your lungs with that same peace. Once outside, where the usually frency of Seoul slept, you could store the night in the drawer of moments that you’d rather forget.

“Hello, sweet cheeks.”

Any prospect of serenity on the quiet night air crashed with just three words. Him, always him. Whenever you allowed yourself to relax, he always appeared. Like a fly on a hot summer evening, sticking to your skin and buzzing until it drew you crazy. You walked past the spot where he leaned against the wall with a huff.

“How about I take you on an actual date tonight? I sneaked a bottle of wine.”

Nothing. Maybe it was childish to ignore him, but you didn’t have the energy to deal with him, not tonight, so you kept walking.

“Should I take that as a yes?”

The more he talked, the faster your irritation started to boil. Without sparing him a glance, you kept your pace. Seokjin jogged a bit to keep up and frowned himself as he noticed your scowl deepening.

“Baby, it’s hard to maintain a conversation if you don’t help me out a bit.”

The burning tick of your brow marked the countdown before the explosion, you knew that. It bothered you how his long legs could easily match your quick pace. You fished the car keys out of your pocket, taking a turn to cross the street.

“You are angry with me,” he stated.

A scoff escaped your throat, as you smiled dryly.

“To be angry I’d have to give two shits about you, which I don’t.”

“Ouch,” he grimaced at your clipped tone and let you put some distance between the two, considering your words. Aware that he walked on thin ice, he caught up once again with a smirk. At least he got you talking.

“You sure about that? You seem pretty angry to me.”

Exasperated, you stopped abruptly, fire burning in your eyes. It took him by surprise how serious your expression became. Maybe he’d overstepped in his attempts to lift up your mood, maybe he’d really fucked up.

“What the hell are you doing here, Seokjin?”

“Just wanted to check if everything is fine with your boss,” he was cautious, approaching you as if he wanted to pet a lion.

“No, it’s not fucking fine,” you snapped with an accusatory finger to his chest. “I almost got fired.”

“I’m sorry, sweet cheeks, I shouldn’t have messed around while you were working. I didn’t consider the consequences.”

“Of course you didn’t. Losing your job is not something that ever scares you, hm? The little prince has his life sorted out already. Must be nice.”

Voice loaded with sourness, you held his gaze. Apart from his lips tightening in a thin line, Seokjin kept his usual unreadable self. He didn’t even have the decency to look intimidated by your anger. Blood pulsed in your temples like migraine. God, he was so infuriating.

“By the way, don’t you ever call anyone to clean up my shit again. I don’t need it. I can deal with my own problems.”

When Tanaka had been done yelling and calling you names, he contacted the higher ups. Neither of you expected the woman on the other side of the line brushing the chef’s complaints off so easily —the guest had cleared up the situation already. She hung up with a grin in her voice after praising your ability to “befriend” such a powerful man, and you were left dumbfounded. Since that job covered most of your bills, it was a relief to keep it. That aside, you were fuming. One phone call, that’s all it took for him to make the problem disappear. Was life really so easy for him? Was he so dense to think his last name would solve anything? He surely didn’t give a shit about putting you in that situation in the first place, or your coworkers thinking of you as a slut. Above everything else, it pissed you off that he thought you needed to be saved, like it was his charity act of the month.

“My behaviour tonight was unacceptable and you shouldn’t be the one to pay for it. Now I see I overstepped, so I apologise for that too,” he said after a pause. His eyes softened and you noticed his shoulders drooping slightly. “It’s just— You do things to me, sweet cheeks, you don’t even realise. I can’t think straight around you. Not that that’s an excuse, but it’s the truth. I really am sorry, I didn’t want to cause you trouble.”

“Oh, thanks! That fixes everything. Glad that you got that out of your chest, wouldn’t want to make you feel guilty about it,” you sneered.

Seokjin followed like a watchdog as you resumed your walk, taking big steps in a futile attempt to leave the man behind. Not only him, but the inconvenient flutter in your stomach too. Mulling over his words, you chewed the inside of your cheek. You do things to me, sweet cheeks. So casual about it, he could’ve been chatting about the weather with a neighbour.

“Let me take you home, at least, to make sure you are safe,” he offered, taking your wrist to stop you.

“No,” you jerked away, his touch blistering your skin. “Don’t take me home, don’t call me, don’t text me.”

“I can’t help it. I like you, sweet cheeks. A lot. One night is not enough, I want more than that.”

You felt it, the skip in your heartbeat. Deep within you, it faltered. Scared, wounded, hopeful. Occasional sex was your usual go-to for a good reason. That’s why you only got involved with the “not-the-boyfriend-type” kind of men, to avoid those kinds of messy, unnecessary feelings. You didn’t need anyone to take away your individuality or change your life —you liked freedom. However, your issues with love ran deeper than that.

Admittedly, you were scared of letting anyone in. You’d been hurt and mocked many times, leashed and scolded enough to be reduced to a shell devoid of any worth. But you learned, hit after hit, and grew protective thorns everytime it happened. Yet, the sly bastard had managed to sneak behind your defenses. Maybe it wasn’t too late to get a hold of yourself.

“Well, it is for me. I’m sorry, but I don’t do the whole boyfriend thing anymore.”

“Tell me you don't like me back.” “Have I not been clear enough? I think I’ve showed you many times that I’m not interested.”

“You kissed me,” he countered, stopping you in your tracks. “The morning you left.”

You faced him after a deep breath, exhausted from his insistence. “That’s playing dirty. You were supposed to be sleeping.”

“Why did you? If you wanted a one time thing, you would’ve just left. But you kissed me goodbye,” he pressed. “Not to be nice or polite or because you thought you had to —I wouldn’t have noticed anyway. And yet, you decided to kiss me. Why?”

“Goddamn, rich boy. It was just a kiss, don’t read too much into it.”

“Fine,” he said, his tone stern with a hint of a snarl. “If you won’t, I’ll say it for you. You felt something that night and you feel it still, I can tell.”

“Let me get one thing straight: just because we fucked doesn’t mean you know me. Stop trying to decide what I do or do not feel. You can’t just magically appear in people's lives and expect to be the center of their existence. It’s so goddamn irritating, you are everywhere. If I’m at Dionysus, I get tense whenever that fucking door opens in case it’s you. Everytime I look at my phone there’s a stupid text, or worse, there’s nothing it messes my head up. Even my best friend won’t shut up about you! It’s like a horror movie, I swear. Just leave me alone, I don’t want whatever this shit is. It’s driving me insane.”

“This,” you gestured between the two after a heavy sigh, “was a one time thing, fun, nice sex. End of story.”

“Just nice?” Devilish smile already blooming, he stalked closer. “After all the screaming I was expecting good, at least. I’ll work harder next time, I’m aiming for A+.”

The moment he was close enough for you to have to crane your neck up, your burning gaze mixed with his. His cologne hit your senses and you remembered how it stuck to your tongue when you kissed his body, sweat and lust making the scent borderline intoxicating. It fuelled your resolve to turn him down before his voice trapped you under his spell —saccharine and enticing, like a siren.

“There’s no next time, so go try to get someone else fired,” you tried to cover the lack of steadiness in your words with a dismissive gesture.

“Oh, there will be, don’t you worry,” he chuckled before holding your glare with firm determination. “That pretty mouth might say one thing, but your body tells me otherwise. I know you can’t resist me, just like I can’t resist you. At some point you’re going to admit it and let me kiss you and fuck you how you want me to.”

He didn’t lean forward to level your eyes, didn’t let his hand wander on your body —he didn’t need to. Standing there, centimetres away from you, Seokjin knew he had a bigger effect on you than you anticipated. However, your pride took over. The right to decide your feelings wasn’t his and you were determined to show him.

“I wouldn’t bet on it if I were you.”

“Why not? I love winning.”

His cheshire grin set something ablaze in your gut. Unsure if it was irritation or something else, you took a step back. He looked stunning, his sharp suit accentuating those wide shoulders and dark locks neatly brushed back. But what really took you breath away was the glint in his eyes. Dangerous and playful at the same time, in complete dissonance with his impassive pose.

“Good night, Mr. Kim.”

This time, only his eyes followed as the streets of Seoul swallowed the sweet enigma that was you.

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: @aretha170

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