#The Apollo Illusion

[gingermintpepper]

Day 1: Apollo

Interpretation notes and trivia under the cut!

His interpretation for my work is based very much around the concept of his manifestation as the Radiant God of the String. Because of this, quite like Hecate, he’s triple-fold and occupies three major spaces; the string of Fate and therefore prophecy, the bowstring and therefore distance and destruction and the lyrestring and therefore music and order. He’s a somewhat melancholy figure all things considered - Fate and following Fate’s tennants is something that he struggled a lot with as a child and even now as a more mature deity, the only solution he’s truly found is to take things one day at a time. Very diligent and fastidious, he’s a hard worker and tends to put his everything into completing any task set before him which also tends to work to his disadvantage since he’s prone to becoming tunnel-visioned until he’s finished what he said he would finish. His family orchestrated his winter breaks because he had the nasty habit of working himself sick when he was still very young.

Apollo is generally represented by circles in my work - priests of Apollo will be marked with at least three circles on their face and usually wear triangular jewellry (typically earrings or necklace charms) to reflect the triple-nature of their god. His favoured colour is a rich, deep blue and while he typically wears elaborate eye paint, he rarely uses face powders. Wears gem-toned blues for his lips unless in mourning where he will leave himself unadorned and unpainted out of respect.

Some quick trivia: 

Was born identical to Artemis even though they were born (years) apart. Had brown hair, wolf’s ears and fangs and horns when he was a child but never manifested those features again after his penance for slaying Python. If he’s very stressed or angry, sometimes his fangs will show. The brown of his hair grew out to blond naturally as he developed and matured as a god.

Proficient in all instruments but has always especially preferred stringed instruments. Truly unmatched with a kithara but only uses it for special occasions and official meetings. Generally prefers his lyre for every day usage

Really good at sewing and braiding strings together due to the exercises he had to do while under the tutelage of the Moirai sisters. Can’t weave since Athena banned him from touching a loom but he does like watching her spin. The one time she caught him trying to replicate her patterns with a needle and thread, she complained to Zeus that he had broken his oath. He teases her about that even now.

Was the last of the Twelve to learn how to read and write because he hates letter systems and finds it too arbitrary. Prior to the collaboration that resulted in written letter systems, everyone was perfectly fine with remembering the important stuff and encoding the rest in artistic format such as tapestries, pottery, furniture and jewellry. Apollo himself has a truly formidable memory since he’s been composing and immortalising the events and histories of the world in song since he was very young. He finds written books very dull but Clio’s very insistent about written histories being important and convenient so reluctantly, he’s given permission for his songs and poems to be -gags- transcribed and written down.

Is only called Apollo by his parents, Artemis and Dionysus. Hermes rarely calls him by name in general and the others, including other siblings like Ares and Athena, have always called him Phoebus. Interestingly, Zeus usually calls him Phoebus but will call him Apollo when they are alone or when he’s being especially serious. Apollo is completely comfortable with either name but he does see Phoebus as a bit more formal than Apollo. (Despite his best efforts, both Calliope and Clio also still stubbornly call him Phoebus though he’s fairly sure it’s mostly because they know it bothers him.)

[probablygayattorneys]

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The first time Phoenix had Edgeworth watch Trucy.

[incorrect-prism-quotes]

Apollo: spins around in chair ominously I’ve been expecting y- chair continues to spin shit tries to stop spinning shit tries to grab a table to stop spinning sHIT falls out of chair

[dizzybevvie]

reminder that Beverly had a crush on Erdan

[kitkatnerds3]

BSD chapter 108 spoilers

 I don’t have pictures so anyone who wants to read this is gonna have to deal with that. I’m also gonna be jumping around a lot, so prepare for unorganized-ness. 

Now, on with the chapter

HOLY SHIT! WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPEND! 

FIRST OFF. The first thing we get in this chapter is Sigma showing Fyodor the card that says ‘help me’. After this Fyodor has a BREAKDOWN. Crying and screaming ‘HELP ME’, after this he calms down and asks what year it is, saying that he is the real Fyodor and that he’s sorry he couldn’t stop the other him from being evil, he then hands Sigma a knife that he just has for some reason, but then SIKE- he stabs Sigma and says something along the lines of ‘ Ah, I can’t believe you fell for that, split personalities are such a cliche’.

(I’m about to go on a long rant, so I want to first say, I think Sigma is fine. Asagiri loves his fake out deaths and Sigma’s story ending here would not be narratively satisfying and there isn’t really on lead up or foreshadowing that would imply that he would die here. Our boi is gonna be fine.)

Now, I know he said that he was lying, but I don’t think Asagiri would have included that for no reason, which is why I want all of us to look back to Fyodor and his ability in Dead Apple. Fyodor was one of the only characters who didn’t have to fight his ability, the other one being Chuuya. Chuuya not having to fight his ability makes sense because it is a singularity. But Fyodor? His ability isn’t like Chuuya’s because unlike his Fyodor’s ability did show up, but it didn’t try to fight him and even worked with him! His gem was also on his hand instead of on the forehead like most of the other abilities. The idea that it was like this is because his ability is in fact a separate entity past the extent of even Elise and is even capable of taking him over is interesting. 

But I don’t think that it’s entirely like that, because Fyodor still betrayed Sigma even if he was the supposed ‘Good One’. I think Fyodor was definitely lying about the there’s a good Fyodor and a bad Fyodor, but I do think there might be more than one Fyodor. So, I want to expand on a theory I saw about Fyodor’s ability where he could send a version of himself into the virtual world. I feel like his ability could probably be like this except it’s not the virtual world, it’s a different plane of reality. I feel like I’ve definitely read stories where a character lives in a plane just above our own and can manipulate stuff there which in turn changes something about its correlating thing in our plane. Maybe this is the plane on which peoples souls reside, and Fyodor’s ability allows him to interact with his soul. If his ability destroys the soul/ life force of a person, then that could make that person die in real life resulting in the blood explosion that we’ve seen happen before. On the matter of having to touch the person, I don’t think that would be necessary, when he was captured by Ace and then killed everyone on the boat, I doubt he managed to sneak up and touch every single one. they were supposed to be good bodyguards and I don’t believe that Fyodor is that athletic, he couldn’t have fought all of them. we’ve also seen that him touching someone doesn’t necessarily kill them, ex: Nikolai and Karma while he was drying Fyodor’s hair. So, I think that him touching people to kill them is just a front he does to trick people, kinda like that thing he did with Ace where he made him think his ability was something else. This could also explain some stuff about Ivan and Nathaniel and how he changed them, maybe he changed their souls in a way that affected their brains!

After all I said the fact is that I’m using the term ‘soul’ kinda broadly, so in my opinion, a soul basically represents everything that a person is, their hopes, dreams, way of thinking, life force, and for ability users, their ability as sort of an add on. And basically Other-Fyodor can just affect people by tinkering with their souls on that plane. So, what if in Dead Apple Shibusawa’s power is him sort of combining the two planes so that ability users can interact with the ability part of their souls. This could also be why the non-ability users disappeared, because they didn’t have the ability part of their soul and therefore did not technically exist in the version of the world Shibusawa summoned.(this isn’t about him but maybe Atsushi’s special in that his ability is not an add on to his soul but is instead actually apart of him, so that’s how even though the thing that technically holds his ability was removed he could still access the tiger) (this could also explain more about how Shibusawa’s ability kept him alive, even though his body died he kept the soul alive therefore keeping pretty much everything that made Shibusawa Shibusawa intact) And since Fyodor was already interacting with his ability/soul in a more complex way previously he was able to just interact with him normally. This could also be more stuff for the Fyodor can only kill non-ability users theory seeing as there are many situations in which it probably would have been better for him to just magic death people, if destroying an ability users soul entails fighting off their ability (cause I like the ‘abilities are born from trauma theory’ and think that they, when not affected by Shibusawa, are supposed to protect their users) then I don’t think Fyodor would be able to go through the trouble of winning a fight. But for a soul unprotected by an ability he could easily just crush it, therefore killing the person! Thinking on it more this does lead to questions about how he could have affected Nate and Ivan, cause those two have abilities too so wouldn’t they protect them? I’ve written too much to go back now so I’ma just say maybe they didn’t sense any lethal intent and therefore saw no need to attack. I’m also ready to go with the idea that, at least for Ivan, he just literally preformed a lobotomy. He definitely did something special to Nate, but I feel like Fyodor’s done crazier stuff then preform a lobotomy, so he could’ve just done that no fancy stuff involved, Ivan does have the head bandages after all!

I feel like there is a lot more I could talk about, with the ability stuff, but my brain is tired, and I want to move on to different things that happened in this chapter, because that’s still what this post is supposed to be about. Still talking about Fyodor for a bit though this chapter caused me to think about him a lot.

So, while I do 100% believe that the ‘Good Fyodor’ act was bullshit, I do think that those emotions were at least a bit real. I think that Fyodor isn’t the calm, cold individual he wants everyone to think he is. We know that he wishes to rid this world of sin, but what if this isn’t only out of a sense of righteous work of god, what if it’s also out of a feeling of fear. Maybe Fyodor is a a-bit more fucked up 14-year-old Ranpo who is terrified of the world around him and never found his Fukuzawa, and just wants help and to be saved from this sin infested world but has to put on a brave/indifferent face and do it himself.

Was this a load of bullshit that I pulled out of my ass? Yes. Yes it was. But they’re kinda cool ideas and even if I do think that they’re probably incorrect they were fun to think of and write and that’s all that matters! Plus, I do slightly believe that parts could be true.

TLDR: I think Fyodor’s ability allows him to interact with his soul on another plane of existence and that he is scared by the world around him.

Wow! didn’t mean to go on that long about Fyodor. my brain just started thinking about things and I couldn’t stop it. Now, onto a subject that is going to take a lot less of my brain power! (my brain is kinda very tired rn)

SECOND THING THAT HAPPEND. SHIN SOUKOKU. GAY GAY HOMOSEXUAL GAY. HOLY SHIT THEY ARE SO IN LOVE!

Some of my theories on what was gonna happen this chapter were kinda correct! Atsushi did indeed land himself in a situation where he couldn’t fight Akutagawa without killing him and so he stopped before hitting him, and then Aku attacked him and Atsushi said something that brought Aku back a little bit. But then my prophetic powers stopped because after that Aya did NOT pull the sword out of Bram, and Aku ripped off Atsu’s arm and leg (0 days since Atsushi has last lost his leg). Atsushi said so much romantic ass bullshit “I know you’re in there” “I’ve got you” and he smiled at him!!! Atsushi was tired and in pain and he STILL tried to SMILE at Aku!!! This feels like a goddamn fanfic!!! It’s wonderful!! And Akutagawa also had a several scenes where he hesitated to hurt Atsu even under the vampire-ness! Sure, he may have still torn his arm and leg off, but the fact still remains that he hesitated!!! He may be saved by gay love yet!!!!

Soukoku still have not shown up, much to the dismay of pretty much everyone, but at the end we did get to see the old man yaoi breakup and let me tell ya, whoo, it is NOT going well!

THIRD THING THAT HAPPENED. DAD HAS BEEN STABBED AND IS BLEEDING OUT. I REPEAT, FUKUZAWA IS IN DANGER OF DYING.

I really, really hope that he won’t die for, just SO many reasons. He probably won’t because Asagiri really does love his fake out deaths, but narratively speaking, Fukuzawa unfortunately has a slight possibility of death.

Oh, also Fukuchi has One Order, but I honestly don’t really know what that is, sooooo... Back to Fukuzawa!

Because I really don’t want to contemplate the idea of dad dying, I am instead going to act as if it is an impossibility and think of what might happen next. So, I think that this might how we get Yosano and Junichirou back in the story! I saw a while ago that the Juni in the bed is an illusion because the Elise drawing with the crossed-out faces didn’t have his face crossed out, and I’m very much inclined to believe this because it just works in many different ways! It makes a way for some more people (mainly Yosano) to sneak into the airport and help out and could lead to the Tanizaki backstory that I crave so very dearly. Actually, the latter thing probably won’t happen for a while, and it might not fit into the story yet, so... yeah actually forgot about the second thing. But we do definitely need some more people to our guys right now! I’m pretty sure Ranpo and Fukuzawa are actively dying and we need more guys to fight Fukuchi with, so Yosano’s gotta make sure her dad and brother don’t die and hopefully they can get Juni, Lucy, and sskk (after Atsushi cures Aku by kissing him on the mouth) to kick Fukuchi’s ass. I honestly have no idea how the fuck they’re gonna deal with the old man, I saw a theory that someone had replaced One Order with one of Kunikidas flash bombs, and that is kinda probable, I think! I’m still pretty sure that Aya is gonna do some girlboss shit in the form of pulling the sword out of Bram i the midst of all of this, but I’m not sure when it’s gonna happen seeing as there is just so much stuff going on right now.

Anyways! The last two sections of this post were probably not the best I could’ve done becuse I spent all my braincells on the Fyodor analysis, but whatever! This was Fun! Can’t wait to see what sort of crazy bullshit goes down next chapter!

[academicelephant]

Shell Game with Apollo Robbins

[windywallflower]

New week, new post! Hey all! Windy & Wallflower is running a GREEK MYTH inspired pin campaign called: ANTIQUITY. (You can click the above link to check it out)!

Right now's in the quiet part of the campaign but we're still trying to unlock ALL our designs:

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Cast your vote for the NEXT reveal!

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(And if you play your cards right, we're running this campaign alongside 3 others, if you pledge to all of them you could get yourself 4 free pins!!

[scary-ivy]

I can't find anything about this on TMBW which is weird because like, it feels significant considering how big of an influence The Attractions are on their sound, but here's the clip.

STEVE NIEVE???!!

[icarusignite]

i don't want your sympathy (i just want myself back)

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Child of Hypnos! GN! Reader

Summary: Terribly injured after returning from his quest to the Garden of Hesperides, Luke Castellan turns to the only person who can help him sleep. Basically a hurt/comfort shortfic for Luke cuz he needs comforting lol

Word count: 1.7k

The infirmary was a sterile space, the air heavy with the scent of antiseptic and tonics. It was mercifully silent, devoid of the Apollo campers who often sporadically visited to check in on whoever occupied the space. 

Luke Castellan was the only patient there today, his features twisted in discomfort as he slowly regained consciousness. His eyes fluttered open, squinting against the sunlight streaming in and the room swam into focus, though his thoughts remained muddled, fragmented memories clawing at the edges of his consciousness. He struggled to separate reality from illusion, unsure of which memories were true and which were twisted figments of his nightmares.

Immediately, he became acutely aware of a throbbing ache pulsating through his face. It felt as though his skin had been stretched to its limit, pulled taut over the wound that marred his features. With each breath he took, the pain intensified, a sharp reminder of the injury he had sustained. 

The injury he had sustained on the quest he had failed. 

His hand instinctively moved to touch the bandages that covered the wound, fingers gingerly tracing the contours of the thick gauze. Beneath the sterile fabric, he could feel the heat radiating from the angry gash, the skin around it tender and inflamed. The cut itself was a jagged slash, stretching from the bottom of his eye to his jawline, and seemed to throb with a life of its own. 

The pain made him angry. He was always angry these days, and he had only just returned. 

The voices from his dreams still echoed in his head, sinister whispers that promised power and vengeance, their dark allure tempting him to succumb. They spoke to his deepest desires and stoked the flames of his fury in ways that were becoming impossible to ignore. 

And then, amidst the chaos of his thoughts, he saw the figure seated by his bedside, their head resting on folded arms, form rising and falling in a steady rhythm of breath. A life, a beacon of familiarity and solace in the midst of his confusion.

It was you. Of course, it was. You had not left his side since he was carried in, broken and bleeding from the camp's border. Your face, though serene in sleep, bore traces of worry and exhaustion, and Luke's heart clenched at the sight, a rush of emotion flooding his senses—gratitude, guilt, longing.

You should not have to worry about him like this, forgoing your own wellbeing to look after him. 

You had been there the whole time, a steadfast presence in the chaos that followed his return. He remembered, faintly, the fleeting moments of clarity when his eyes had briefly met yours, finding comfort and reassurance in your gaze before he slipped into unconsciousness once again as his injury was stitched up. 

He did not want to disturb you, but he couldn't help himself, his hand reaching out almost as if it had a mind of his own, fingers trembling as he brushed them against your cheek. There was something about you that brought him comfort, something he could not put a name to, but it was instinctual, almost magnetic. 

You were peace. You were his peace. 

You stirred when made contact, eyelids snapping open instantaneously, filled with concern and affection as you bolted upright in your seat. 

"Luke," you breathed, your voice soft and gentle, like a soothing melody amidst the chaos of his mind. "You're awake."

A fragile smile tugged at Luke's lips, and although the gesture hurt, it was worth it to see the brief flash of relief that flooded your features. 

"Luke, are you alright?" you asked hurriedly, scrambling from your perch to inspect him. You were no medic but you spent long enough in the infirmary, easing injuries and sending campers off into a peaceful slumber that you had become accustomed to looking for signs of concern. 

"I...I'm fine," his voice was hoarse from lack of use, his throat parched, which had you rushing to pour him a cup of water.  

"Should I call someone from the Apollo cabin to take a look at your injury?"

Your words washed over him, but your concern was both comforting and frustrating in equal measure. He appreciated your kindness, your willingness to help, but at the same time, he couldn't shake the bitterness that rose in his throat at the thought of being pitied.

If even your gaze was heavy with it, he could not imagine what the rest of camp half-blood would think of him. A failure. A demigod who could not complete a quest that had already been completed once before by another. 

"I'm fine," Luke muttered, his voice tinged with irritation. "I don't need anyone fussing over me."

He tried to muster a reassuring smile, but it faltered, crumbling under the weight of his conflicting emotions. He didn't want your sympathy, didn't want to be seen as weak or vulnerable. He was Luke Castellan, a fighter, a survivor—he refused to be reduced to a mere object of pity. 

Silently he cursed the gods for reducing him to this. His stupid father and his stupid quest. 

Still, even as he pushed you away, a part of him longed for your presence, your touch. He couldn't deny the warmth that flooded his heart whenever you were near, the way your smile could chase away the darkness that threatened to consume him.

He had become quite accustomed to being around you over the years, because even though you had been claimed, being the child of a minor god was as good as being the child of nothing, thus cementing your place in the Hermes cabin with him. Another thing to curse the gods for, because if anyone deserved a place to truly belong, it was you, with your kind eyes, and careful hands so eager to help. 

He supposed it didn't matter in the end. You had wormed your way into his heart, unbeknownst to him, and if there was one place you surely belonged, it was there. 

As you paused in your fussing, your eyes caught the subtle signs of exhaustion etched into Luke's features—the faint shadows beneath his eyes, a telltale sign of restless nights and troubled dreams. Despite the fact that he had been asleep for the better part of the past three days, the toll of his ordeal still lingered, casting a shadow over his weary frame.

"Would you like some help...you know...falling asleep?" you asked gently.

The offer caught Luke off guard, his pride momentarily forgotten in the face of his overwhelming fatigue. A wave of relief washed over him at the thought of finding solace in sleep, of escaping the turmoil of his thoughts if only for a little while longer. It was almost embarrassing how quickly he acquiesced. 

"Please," he murmured, the word slipping past his lips with a mixture of gratitude and pain. He shifted slightly on the bed, wincing as he made room for you to join him. 

Your cheeks flushed a slight crimson as you took your place, precariously perched at the edge, careful not to jostle and cause him further pain, your gaze meeting his with a clarity that made his heart skip a beat. Then, when you reached out, your hand finding his own with a reassuring touch, it sent a shiver down his spine.

He found his eyes start to grow heavy. 

Your touch was warm and comforting, a balm to his weary soul as you ran a hand over his closed eyes, fingers tracing soothing patterns against his skin. The tension in his muscles began to ebb away, replaced by a sense of peace and calm that he hadn't felt in days. He wasn't quite sure if it was the effect of your powers, or just your presence that put him at such ease, but it was magic all the same. 

With each stroke of your hand, Luke felt himself drifting further into the embrace of sleep, his mind growing hazy and light. It was a different sort of slumber, one unburdened by the shadows and voices that awaited him in the darkness with dark promise. 

When your hand moved through his hair, a sense of familiarity washed over him like a warm tide. The soft melody you hummed resonated deep within him, stirring memories long buried beneath the weight of his pain.

It was a popular tune, one he might have heard before but he couldn't quite place it. Then it came to him, a sharp ache in his chest, not so different from the physical pain in his flesh. His mother used to sing to him like this, during her brief bouts of lucidity, when she wasn't chasing him around the house spouting prophecies of doom and destruction. 

He remembered her, her face a blur in the recesses of his mind, her voice a distant echo that whispered of warmth and safety. In those rare moments, she had held him close, her hands running through his hair in much the same way yours did now.

Unbidden, tears slipped from behind Luke's closed eyes, a silent testament to the grief and longing that filled his heart. 

"Everything will be alright, Luke," you whispered, wiping his tears before they had a chance to seep into his bandage. "You'll see."

It's a lie. He knew it was a lie. Nothing would ever be alright again, and he would never go back to being the person he used to be, but there was a part of him that wanted to believe her, if only for a fleeting moment. 

After all, he was the son of the god of tricksters—a master of deception and illusion. And as he lay there, cradled in your embrace, he couldn't help but succumb to the illusion of peace and comfort that you offered.

For now, with you by his side, he could trick himself into believing that everything would be alright—that the pain and suffering he had endured would soon be nothing more than a distant memory. And as sleep claimed him once more, he clung to that belief, finding solace in the presence of the one person who had never stopped believing in him.

A/N: feel free to send in requests for Luke lol, I'm currently in my brainrot era. Also reblogs/comments are much appreciated as I'd love to know what yall think <3

[hwaightme]

Safe and San

THIS IS 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI FOR MOUNT'S SAKE (nsfw tags under the cut) (masterlist)

🟡 pairing: san x afab!reader 🟡 genre: smut, pwp, fluff, established relationship 🟡 summary: in the coolness of an early morning, choi san reveals to you what it means to love in a quiet timelessness, where all that exists is you, him, and the sunrise. 🟡 wordcount: 5.3k 🟡 warnings/tags: fiance san, falling asleep in the living room reading together, sharing hoodies, just loving each other, summer season - yes it is spring but now it is summer because san said so, hoodie san, cuddles, hugs and kisses, sort of edited sort of not (lmk if there is intense chaos anywhere) 🟡 taglist: @doom-fics @legohwa @acciocriativity @justhere4kpop @honey-lemon-goose @byuntrash101 @shakalakaboomboo @starillusion13 @hongthoven 🟡 a/n: seriously idk where this came from, all I know is that I have been occasionally mindblanking and... here we are. Much love and all reblogs, comments, notes welcome <3

🟡 nsfw taglist: the petname content is intense in this one (sun, moon, stars, summer, honey, darling, love... nicknames...), all the praise, lazy sex, no protection (wrap before tap c'mon), cum inside, cockwarming, sex while in a state of semi-dress, fingering, the softest dom san, basically a service dom

The early morning haze entranced you. An ever-changing palette, the walls of your living room appeared to take on a different hue every time you languidly blinked, still fighting the heavy remnants of sleep. After having forgotten to completely draw the curtains, the luminescence of the cheerful, expectant sun crept across the cold wooden floor in a shy line, barely caressing the cream wall on the other side of the room, centimetres away from producing a kaleidoscopic scene by hitting the glass inserts of the shelving unit. The soft cushions that lined the l-shaped couch, and the woollen throw that hid you from the chill, were a cloud suspended in a tranquil bliss. You studied the familiar, adored surroundings as they metamorphosed from a lilac wonder to a glowing mandarin masterpiece, the brushstrokes of a pastel pink, coating the awakening sky, peeking from the other side of the window, capturing your bleary attention.

Not a sound, except for the level breathing of the man beside you. The man who had your love so fully, so deeply that you were not sure if the slow thudding in your chest was real, or was simply an echo, a comfortable illusion that you had agreed to settle for just so that you could give the heart away for him to keep. He would most definitely keep it safe. Find a neat little box for it, and, if you were lucky, find a place for it somewhere between the books and the video game DVDs, and admire it whenever he would walk past. Or perhaps he would be crafty enough to find a way of putting it in his pocket and carrying it around with him wherever he went – that way, you could miss him less than you normally did when you were apart. Shame you only had one heart, because you would give Choi San the universe if you could.

Your fiancé was like the grand starry expanse in the night, paving the way for explorers, lovers, and mystical creatures alike, and the radiant manifestation of Apollo in the day, bestowing upon the earth a hope, a heavenly brilliance, a magic the secret to which only he knew. With each moment that passed, you had come to understand that there was always more to San. Be it hidden in a sigh, in an enchanting glimmer in his eyes or in a simple gesture, he was an ethereal enigma that you were shocked, and infinitely grateful, existed.

Careful to not disturb him, which was a challenge in its own right considering that you had used his broad chest as your pillow, you lifted the throw ever so slightly and rose into a seated position. You gingerly adjusted the material back, and twisted yourself to be seated on the edge, and facing the literal sleeping beauty before you. You let your eyes travel across his resting face. From his forehead that was obscured by adorably ruffled onyx locks that poured out from underneath his grey hoodie. To his eyelids and lashes that showed the tiniest movement, making the soft light occupying the room land onto the little hairs and turn them to white gold. Down to the perfect line of his nose, the tip of which you liked to plant a quick peck on when you wanted to see your fiancé get flustered. And to his alluring lips which were parted ever so slightly. In the somnolent daze there was an angelic quality to him, a peace that you wanted to sink into and never depart from.

This was one of the first mornings in a while, that you had all the time in the world to keep on staring. For the most part, it was either you or San, or both of you having to get up and rush out of the door for work after having snoozed the alarm a ‘healthy’ number of times. Which is why it was surprising that you were even awake – five o’clock was not exactly your usual territory, and if not for the summer season blessing you with longer hours of sunshine, it was likely that you would not have distinguished between dream and reality, and dozed off lulled by the rise and fall that came with San’s every breath. But your wakefulness had its beauty: there was no stress spurring you on, and the sight of your love beside you, serenity written across his features, made you grateful for the surprising perkiness. For this short while, your personal heaven could be committed to memory, and serve as a transformation for every future when you would need to ‘rise and shine’.

You spotted San’s reading glasses lying, discarded, between his body and the back of the couch, inches from being squashed, while the books you and him had been reading were lying in awkward positions on the floor, much to your amusement. Careful not to damage the pages any more than they had been, you reached to pick the novels up, momentarily studying the covers before marking the pages with what turned out to be a folded receipt and a post-it with the glue segment torn off, and placing them on the coffee table. You settled back into a seated position, tucking one of your legs under you and pulling down the base of your oversized tee. A shiver passed down your back, reminding you of the fact that the air conditioner, your saving grace after the summer heat kicked in, rendering natural ventilation impossible if you wanted fresh air not laden with pollution and unbearable humidity, had been running at full power all night. Only now that you have removed yourself from the human radiator that was your fiancé did you realise this, and began to construct an escape plan that, hopefully, would not break San's peaceful slumber. If you were lucky, perhaps you could snatch and save his glasses.

These small troubles, trivialities of daily life were what brought a smile to your face. Endearing dilemmas that left you confident that what you were experiencing was a continuous blessing. Tongue between your teeth, poking ever so slightly out of your mouth, you concentrated on stalking towards the spectacles. Having stood up from the sofa, you were in a half crouch, bare feet sinking into the soft carpet, with only the rumble of the air conditioner to accompany you. When you were already hovering above San's chest, arm out reached to fish out your target, your breath hitched as he shifted and smacked his lips, following the adorable gesture by placing his arm, which previously was your only line of defence against falling off the sofa, over his abdomen, which in turn made the glasses fall a little deeper, just out of your reach. You mouthed a 'now what', contemplating your next course of action - you were getting cold, but too stubborn to accept a so-called defeat in this miniature game of capture the metaphorical flag.

The only way out was to summon the powers of feline agility and hope that San decided to be a deep sleeper today. Knee sinking into the edge of the pillow, the stitching digging into your skin as you inched forward while trying to keep a toe still on the ground, a peculiar source of security for the case that a quick retreat might be needed. Fingers flittering across the material, reminiscent of the pitter patter of rain - every effort to blend into the dormant landscape, an accidental echo of a season recently culminated. Closer and closer, your leg was a mere few centimetres away from San's torso, and you were arched over him, checking for any sudden changes in his position. But he was still. Almost too still. You narrowed your eyes and scanned his face, but could not detect any difference, aside from his mouth now being pressed together, however he did that in his sleep on occasion, so you paid it no mind. Suppressing a shiver, what used to be careful manoeuvring turned into risk as you took one final look at what you determined to be the sleeping form beneath you, and made a reach for the glasses, quietly hissing out a congratulations to yourself as soon as you felt your fingers touch the frame. Just a little more and you would be able to go get a sweater. Or turn the air conditioning off. Perhaps, since you were still occasionally blinking away the remnants of dreamland, you would get a cup of morning brew ready, and properly greet the sunrise by lounging on the tiny, but nevertheless welcoming terrace encased in shimmering glass. Or so you had hoped, until, as you were making your so-called journey back, a strong pair of arms snaked around your waist, and sharply pulled you in, so you now found yourself pressed flush against your sleepyhead love.

“Hmm… where are you going?” San mumbled, voice deep and groggy, resonating right above you as you wiggled to nuzzle into his neck, triumphantly holding onto his specs with one hand, pleased with yourself for having accomplished your initial task.

“‘s cold, so I need something warm.” It always took some time for him to register what you would say to him as he was waking up – on a number of occasions, he had not been able to recollect a single thing. So you kept your words simple, but even that made him give an exasperated whine as he hugged you tighter and rubbed the side of his face against your head, resulting in his hood being pushed back to reveal more of the heavily ruffled locks of jet black hair.

“But you have me… Y/N…” while answering you, San had managed to kick away the blanket fully, so that it now formed a dark grey heap at the other end of the sofa.

“I didn’t want to wake you, love,” you whispered back, shutting your eyes and relishing in the sensation, “you looked so cute and so peaceful.”

“What?” the sudden question made you raise your head momentarily, only to find San squinting right at you, “Nah… no.”

“No? My Sannie isn’t cute?” you asked, voice tinged with playful disappointment as you let your head fall back down, and took a deep breath.

Much like the early morning light, the mixture of cotton and San’s cologne was unequivocally captivating. It was the scent of the lazy days, the moments when you would allow yourselves to fall asleep, much like today, on the living room couch, legs intertwined after having spent the entire evening reading. An aroma of an embrace, a slow dance and a humming of a tune that only you knew, the notes that carried with themselves the melody of sweetest memories. The interplay of hemlock and bergamot, accompanied by heliotrope and mimosa – when you had pestered San enough times, he had read the profile out for you, the brief paragraph now forever imprinted in your mind in his timeless timbre.

A hand travelled underneath your t-shirt, trailing up and down your spine a couple of times before settling on tracing random patterns on the small of your back. You stifled a gasp as your fiancé took to toying with the waistband of your tracksuit bottoms, and, still laden with sleep, grunted and uttered his short, gruff retort.

“Not when I’ve read what I’ve read… ‘m surprised I even fell asleep.”

“Oh? And what was it you read?” a soft grin settled on your face as you sank into the feeling of San’s hands moulding you to his heart’s content. Unable to settle for one place, they roamed your body, worshipping every curve.

“Mm… too sleepy to explain…” he leaned into you, and upon nudging you to lie down a little bit higher, trailed a series of kisses down from your jawline to your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin, “…but I could show you.”

“Is that so? Well, I’m more than interested.”

“Wake me up a little bit more and I’ll give you a spoiler.” One of his hands travelled to meet your chin, and tilt it forwards so that his dark, glowing pools of adoration could meet yours, pupils trained on every micro expression despite being cradled in a blur, contained by relaxed lids and wispy eyelashes.

“Such a tease, Sannie.” You whispered, and gave into San’s guidance towards his soft lips, closing the space between you.

The infinite gradient of the sky’s spectacular hues exploded in your vision, as love’s intimate caress ignited a radiance within. With every passing moment, just as the cherry blossoms twirled to the ground in a muted waltz, giving way to flamboyant hydrangeas and mystical lilies, you too, fell deeper and deeper only to bloom once again with a new evolved adoration. A love that grew day in, day out. A love that motivated you to go on until tomorrow, for you knew that you would love even more then, and come to understand the naïve emptiness that you had trusted to be infatuation in the past. Fuller and fuller the soul became. The fuelled up inner fire that contained and protected your safe haven and your eternal paradise. While lilac skies and lavender fields blended into a heavenly unity only for a season, gifting natural beauty for a fleeting appreciation of its temporary existence, the reality that you and San had crafted was evergreen. It was, of course, expected to waver, much like any flowers that were meant to bloom, but together, you would sway and intertwine, two lifetimes turned to one harmonious duet in an everchanging landscape.

New leaves and blossoms replacing those that wilted, but to inexperienced eyes, devoid of recognising the impeccable, intricate details of time, it meant continuity. It meant immortality and a youthfulness that did not know time. This was how life with San had been and will continue to be forevermore. Each tender gaze and caress, the sweetest sigh into your ear was a rekindling of something greater, and left you in an ecstatic daze. The invisible paths of his strong hands exploring every inch of skin left behind a budding desire as you thought back to the transforming garden of hues outside the apartment, now turned to a colourful prologue for the beginning of your hazy summer day.

“Tease… I’m very polite, I’ll have you know.” You giggled as San broke away from the kiss, revealing his lovable pout. Unable to resist, you pushed your free arm up and cupped one side of his face, running your thumb over the cheek, poking his nose with your own as you broke into a wide grin. The action had an effect on San as he moved and tightened his grip to your hips, not once breaking his gaze, while the expression changed entirely.

Like a traveller who had finally found their oasis after an eternity of roaming the scalding hot sands, persevering through madness, he revered you. An unfiltered, unabashed, quiet love that could only be felt amidst total tranquility emanated from him as he resisted the urge to never let go, instead relishing in the beautiful, fleeting instances that you could spend together. Timeliness had taught him to treat each moment with special attention, but with you, he need not try. You were the moment. You were the one who shared his rhythm. You were the meandering river that he would forever prefer and worship over a roaring, cacophonic ocean. Elegance, grace – an identity that could never be replicated. In the rolling tides of strangers, he would always search for where the river met the sea, and would marvel at just how quickly he gravitated towards you. His priceless love and life, the one with whom he wanted to see every sunrise and sunset.

“Well then, gentleman, care to warm me up? Since I have been so politely intercepted.” The attempt at a joke flew over San’s head, but nonetheless, your wish was rapidly granted as he propped up his left leg so it was bent at the knee and his foot was steadily positioned on the couch. Arms still wrapped around you, he gave you another peck and inquired, voice low:

“Y/N, may I… roll you over?”

“Yes, you may. See? Such a sweetheart.” Words of praise always found their way into your responses when it came to your fiancé. Sometimes to obtain his shyness – a breath of spring, or relief – to last the autumn and the biting winter, or, like now, to lie down, impressed at the evoking of the blazing, sultry summer.

He encouraged you to give up any balance you had, and with impressive care switched you places, so that you were now the one resting on a fabric pillow, enveloped between the echoes of San’s body heat on the material, and the man himself, who had one arm on either side of you, and a goofy, proud smile adorning his features. Unable to contain yourself under his intense scrutiny, you raised the glasses you had been securely keeping, and unfolded them to try place a barrier between San and you. But to no avail. Reading your intentions, what used to be a pure cheekiness suddenly gained a darker colour, that of an intimate dusk, and lifting a hand, he hooked the spectacles right out of your outstretched hands, and raised an eyebrow.

“I can see you pretty well, darling. I am more than awake and focused now.”

He tossed the glasses onto the coffee table, sighing in relief as he saw them stop their sliding journey right before the far edge, which earned him a rolling of the eyes from you.

“All these efforts to get them, and you are ready to throw them into oblivion, yeah?”

“No idea what you mean, all I see is that everything is how it’s meant to be.”

The strength of his glances as he brushed your hair out of your face was reminiscent of the sun at its zenith, while the kisses he peppered on your forehead, flushed cheeks and longing lips were the rays of sunshine that would trickle down from the skies through cloudy barriers. The contrast in his light touches and their intentions as he slid a hand under your t-shirt and found your bare breast was immersing you in your personal summer. Your head fell further back, and you let out a satisfied sigh as San took the opportunity immediately, searching for the sensitive spot on your neck.

Taking his time, San nipped at it, while sending your mind into a disarray once his hand pinched your nipple and began to rub languid circles over its very tip, sending an electrifying shock to your core. One kiss after another, he was soon sucking on the sweet flesh, proudly giving life to a garden of unbridled lust spurred by a desire to show closeness. San wanted to melt into you. Melt with you. No embrace was close enough when souls could be together, and so through intimacy and the approach of ‘a small death’ did he strive to express his adamantine devotion to you. Any evidence of your harmony was nothing but heavenly music for him, and it was with pride that he claimed you, and was elated when you claimed him, be it in gratitude, in bliss or in frustration for your yet to be released high.

Your hands snaked themselves around San's perfectly sculpted torso, pulling the hoodie and the black tee underneath, higher and higher, until you could slip beneath, and your cooler skin touched his. The action made San stop his teasing and chuckle against your neck, while his body reacted automatically to roll his hips against yours, member concealed by layers of clothing growing more prominent and pressing against the material of his bottoms.

"Cold." The comment, uttered hoarsely though holding nothing but excitement for what is to come encouraged you to tilt your head and kiss San’s jaw, preparing to return his little, colourful favour.

"Told you."

"Mm, I know a way to fix that." Alas, you were not fast enough, and he lifted himself off you, the loss of contact making you whine. To remind you of his proximity, one of his legs remained between your thighs, knee too close to your core for you to interpret his steps as unintentional, innocent, serene.

With one final smirk in your direction as he caught you eyeing his body voraciously, San took off his hoodie, and motioned for you to sit up – only for him to grab your hand, and cautiously pull you towards him, grinning once you understood his mission and raised your arms above your head. It did not matter – the design, the colour, the cut… any item of clothing that belonged to him, in his opinion, looked better on you for the simple reason that it could hug your form, be an extension of him if he was away and could not wrap you up in his arms. At times, when you were showering, he would purposefully replace your clothes with an item of his just so the scent of your favourite shampoo could linger, and your image would be even more easily imprinted in his mind. Not that it was much of a challenge in the first place, but having all of his senses being preoccupied only with perceiving you was a state he wished could turn into permanence.

“Ah, but there’s a catch, my love.”

“Come on…” you whined and fluttered your eyelashes.

“These,” he grabbed onto the waistband of your tracksuit pants, “off.”

“Yes sir.” As soon as you uttered the phrase you noticed a lustful darkness flash in your fiancé’s gaze, one which he, much to your surprise, suppressed and shook his head.

“Y/N don’t do this to me, or you will not get up ‘til sunset.”

“If that’s your plan, would I even be able to get up?”

“And that’s why I want to make love, Y/N. I want to love you quietly… lie down for me, darling?” he requested, interlacing his urge with the words of one of your favourite poets. A tenderness in his directing you, how he reduced the bottoms and panties he had hooked along with them to a mere accessory on the floor, and how he caressed your thighs, revering every detail, was leaving you breathless. But, just as he was approaching your exposed, aroused sex, you called out to him, reaching for the hand that was resting on your leg.

“Then look at me.”

“Hm?”

“I want to see your pretty face, love.”

The dimples that fell into his cheeks as he beamed at you, crawling up to be right by your side much like a cat would, and letting you roll over so that you were nose to nose, sharing hot breath, made you fall in love again. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say ‘rise’ in love, for when you were like this, vulnerable, and yet so totally safe, you felt like you were soaring.

San took no time in finding your lips, relishing in the stifled moan that escaped you as his fingers teased your moistened labia. A leg resting over his, you were enamoured with the gentleness of his worship of you. The tip of his tongue begged for entrance and elicited a muted sigh as it entered to explore you. With an approving hum, San curled his digits and let your walls clench around him, as he proceeded to set an unhurried pace, knowing you, knowing how to coax out every feeble mewl and build you up to an unforgettable ruin. You had the luxury of time, every worry replaced with the opportunity to connect and combine into one.

There was an added pleasure that came with the surpassing of the excitement of your relationship’s novelty. The intricate mapping of your fantasies had now taken on a new level of complexity, and the sequences transformed into a language only you and San shared. Delighted in the lewdness of sound that was produced by the relaxed pumping of his fingers into you, the gorgeous man further deepened your kiss by taking the strings of his hoodie, now adorning your frame, and drawing you in. Whatever illusion of space between was now entirely gone, and all that existed for you was San’s touch, San’s fragrance, San’s body heat, and the knot in your stomach that was getting tighter his thumb ran circles over your aroused clit.

There was no urgency in his movement as he unravelled you, even though, as you adjusted your positioning, you became aware his stiff erection. The sudden friction caused San to gasp, and, when you brushed your leg against his again, to test the waters, he pleaded, voice ragged and airy:

“Let me take care of you, honey.”

“But San-” you protested, hand palming his length, but denied as he kissed the response away from you.

“You’ll help me out with that later.”

“But I can get an early start.” A final attempt, only spurring San on to push his fingers deeper into you, massaging your pussy until he hit your most sensitive spot, earning a yelp and an approaching tender pulsation.

“Needy for this cock, huh?”

“Ah…What happened to… mfph… sentimental lover boy?” you joked through shallow breaths, choking out every word as you clung onto San’s t-shirt for support in your approaching high.

“I’m still here. Still here… You look beautiful, Y/N… taking my fingers so well, dressed up in my hoodie…” he praised, emphasising his role in your unwinding. Gazing at the love bites he had left on your soft skin through hooded, lust-filled fog, he was motivated to give you any satisfaction you could possibly desire.

“Sannie, please… ah that feels so good…”

“Please what, darling? Hm, tell me.”

Continuing to relentlessly abuse your g-spot, San sweetly took in your writhing form, enjoying the power that he had in this moment, while a ray of the morning sun crept across the floor towards you, traversing the territory of the living room like a foolishly courageous voyeur.

“Faster, please…”

“But it’s so early sweetheart, don’t you want to take it easy?” he inquired, knowing full well that you would not give him a well-structured response, intoxicated by the intensifying arousal, climbing closer and closer to a climax.

“Ah… please… Mm… I need…”

“Elaborate, or I cannot heed to your caprices.”

“I need you inside me.”

“Is that so? Well, I can’t deny you anything, my love.”

Reduced to a whimpering mess, you waited with bated breath as San shuffled to finally push down his trousers and reveal his throbbing member, now adorned with rivulets of pre-cum after having been left abandoned while his digits satisfied you. In a matter of seconds, you could feel its tip against your folds, gliding up and down the slick until you inadvertently bucked your hips towards him, unable to hold on for any longer without a stronger stimulation. Luckily, San was in a loving mood, and submitted to your silent begging. Soon enough, he began to drive into you, so agonisingly slow so as to not force how perfectly your pussy accepted him, and once his pelvis was flush against yours, embraced you. He strived to have you entirely, as if, even when you were with him, he missed you.

Overwhelmed by the fullness your head tilted forward, your forehead meeting San’s as he barely withdrew his cock, and re-entered you, mumbling fuzzy words of praise at how well you were taking him, and just how heavenly your soaked cunt was as he went deeper, rocking his hips upwards to drown himself in your heat.

The world on fire, skin lapping against skin like waves of a mountainous current, painting the landscape in the hues of a blazing sunrise, much like how hedonistic desire washed over you. It grew at an alarming speed until it was threatening to bloom, a crimson rose of undying attraction and adoration for the man who was offering himself to you as your cunt clamped around him. San was entranced by you, and wanted more than what ‘more’ could signify, lifting your leg and throwing it over his to bring you to your sensual demise. Your grasp of his tee tightened as the pounding became hungrier, and you dropped the act of being able to contain a portion of your moans, letting the salacious melodies go right by San’s ears, interlaced with expletives and your beloved’s name.

With every affirmation to roll off your tongue that he had only recently confronted with his own, he would grind harder into you with ease, now that you were propped up just how he wanted you. San could never get enough of your flushed cheeks as the ripples of pleasure ran through you, with his cock rendering you speechless, muscles tightening in anticipation of a crashing orgasm. Only feeble, high-pitched gasps bounced around the walls of the living room, blending into the warm ambiance as your climax hit you – a monsoon, the season controlled by none other than your fiancé, who kept up his flow, mumbling barely coherent phrases:

“So gorgeous, my love, that’s right. Come for me, come over my cock-”

It was not long after your orgasm that his thrusts lost their steadiness, San’s grip on your thigh grew unbelievably tight and he dived to find stability in the dip between your shoulder and neck, leaving feathery kisses and biting the area to suppress his low grunts, now turned to helpless moans that served to prolong your own high.

The erratic motions of his hips culminated in a series of deeper thrusts as he buried his dick as deep as he could inside you, groaning as ropes of cum painted your still-pulsating walls, that seemed to be pleading for more, greedily taking every drop. You rolled your lower half a couple of times, ecstatic from the dizzying fullness that his cock and thick release provided, causing some of the cum to ooze out, threatening to coat your inner thighs. San had no plans on moving, at least not until mist lifted from his consciousness, and he could conjure up at least one thought that did not relate to having you again.

While his dick twitched inside you, you attempted to remain as still as possible, regaining San’s attention by whispering his name. Through half-lidded eyes he gazed back, sending you a shy smile so endearing, and so much brighter than every star, contrasting the remnants of earlier intimacy in the form of a bead of sweat that concealed itself under the hair that fell over his face, and the reddened, plump lips.

“San?”

“Hmm?”

“I’d say I’m very warm now.” He chuckled, making you bashfully glance off to the side, catching the reflection of the sky in the coffee table. The simple ability to hear San’s husky voice as he drifted with you in post-coital bliss, an arm lazily resting on your waist, was a blessing.

“Anytime, my love.” He matched your lightheartedness and squeezed your side.

Your precious sun and moon. The one with whom your heart beat in unison, the one who had read you like a novel, front to back, back to front until he could recount every detail better than you ever could. Time stood still as you lied there, on the couch, sharing addictive nectar and basking in the afterglow. The day only beginning, the room decorated in a light gold hue. Unwilling to part just yet, you shared another kiss with San, in adoration for how the early morning haze entranced you.

[bright-side-of-the-moon]

THE PREMISE, THE SUSPENSE. this is too good.

cant get over will being a bit of a jerk. whats he hiding? i think hes projecting his insecurities onto jack, firing a medic over something somewhat minor was uncalled for, especially the way he did it. he knows better.

if it were serious, the aphrodite kid wouldve been taken to the infirmary, in the very least there would be someone with her allegedly unconscious body waiting for medical assistance

something is quite definitely y afoot.

also there are a few minor (spelling) mistakes & a lil error: patients with allergies, not allergens :)

"the damn texan" is funnier than it has any right to be lol

THE LIL BLUE FROG IS KILLING ME AHAHAHAHA can i name it?

My parentage is changing.

A fanfic of my own character that kinda goes into the lore of my character, altering the story to where they have multiple personalities inspired by the schizophrenic episodes of the Greco-Roman gods (and ofc @bright-side-of-the-moon)

Chapter 1: Will loses track of a patient.

IT WAS A DAY LIKE NO OTHER.

I was doing rounds- checking I was stocked on bandages, my list of patients with allergens, my medicine was stocked, I had plenty nectar and ambrosia, watering my sunflower given to me as a welcome gift by Will Solace when I got claimed, playing my morning playlist of Conan Gray, Olivia Rodrigo, Em Beihold, Claire Rosinkranz, Camilla Cabello- the usual.

Until I get interrupted by a knock on my office door.

I stop playing my music and head to the door, opening it with slight annoyance.

"Yeah? Who is it-"

"Hey, sorry Jacks, I know you're doing rounds but... we have a medical emergency in cabin 3," The person said. It was my freckled, suntanned, tall, blond brother. Will Solace. He was never good at telling me when there was medical emergencies. Especially during the morning.

"I can't help them," I sigh. "I was just about to reorganize my files in alphabetical order again-"

"Well- I- uhh- As Head Counselor slash Medic, I demand you go check on your patient!" He said, puffing out his chest and pointing a finger in the air.

I just stared at him for a while.

"It's been a week and you're pulling that card on me?"

"Just go down-"

"No."

"Pleeeease?"

"Hmm.... no."

"I'll give you unlimited access to all patient files."

"Where's the camper?" I throw on my lab coat.

"New that would getcha."

"I need blackmail on the Stoll brothers, I take wins where I can get them." *I adjust something slightly out of place on my coat then walk past Will.

Will shrugs. "Fair enough."

We walk towards the strawberry fields, making small talk on the way. You know, the usual.

"How many people died last week?" I ask nonchalantly, as if death doesn't bother me anymore.

"Surprisingly, one," Will says while stepping over a mushroom that looked like it was on the verge of exploding. "He fell off of the rock climbing wall."

"Was he drunk?"

"Nope."

"Was he wearing any safety gear?"

"Also, nope."

"Well no duh, it's written on a giant sign to wear the proper equipment with supervision if you want to climb on the wall," I hop over a loose root in the ground. "It's literally the number one rule."

"It was an Ares kid."

"Okay, that makes much more sense."

We make it to the fields, with no one to be seen. Nobody. Anywhere, no matter where you looked. Not a single Satyr, bug, or demigod.

"Uh... Will?" I turn to him and bat my eyes. "Where's. The. Damn. Patient."

"How should I know?!"

"YOU'RE THE HEAD MEDIC. THAT'S YOUR JOB."

"NUH-UH- wait, no. You actually have a point. Am I gonna get fired?" Will was panicking, I was pissed, and we have a missing (probably dying, let's be honest) patient that's nowhere to be seen. "Oh gods, what do I tell Nico?!-"

"Calm down. You find that patient, before Chiron and Mr. D have your practicing license for a month. I'll go ask any nearby campers if they seen anyone..." I pause for a moment. "What did you say this patient looked like again?"

"I- uh.... Girl, very pretty, smelled like-"

"Let me remind you, you have a boyfriend that I know very well."

"Shut up," Will's face taking on the same hue of the strawberry milk served at lunch. "As I was saying, she was a daughter of Aphrodite. She was supposedly having a heat stroke-"

"Why would a child of Aphrodite be all the way out here in the Strawberry fields?" I interrupt. "Sorry, my bad. Please continue."

"-That caused her to pass out," Will continued, albeit, very annoyed. "She was saying something about needing water, and a Cabin Three kid went to the lake to purify some water for her to drink."

"That all?"

"No, she passed out and... well... You know the story from there."

I hum in thought. Being the gremlin I am, I walk away back to my office. "If she's not here, that means she's okay, or someone else os already treating her. Now about those medical documents-"

"What." Will said incredulously. "Not even gonna look for her?- What if there's a dead camper on my hands, and you just walk away?"

I nod. "Pretty much, yeah."

Will stares at me, dumbfounded and slowly getting more and more pissed off. "You're a terrible medic."

"If there's no patient to treat, there's no problem to meet." Ignoring Will's comment, I continue walking away. "I need to finish my rounds."

"You're fired."

I stop dead in my tracks, slowly turning around. "What?"

"You. Are. Fired"

"Y-you can't fire me?!" I walk up to him. "Only-"

"I don't care. Go to the Hermes cabin. And stay there. You're license is officially revoked."

"W-what..." I mumble, terrified. "Y-you can't do this to me- you're taking away my entire purpose-"

"That's the point," He folded his arms, towering over me, the damn Texan. "Get out my damn sight before I do something I regret."

"B-but my documents... My parients- You- you can't do this to me!"

"You are dismissed."

I felt the tension build up in my chest. My grip on my reality slipping away. The tears welling up in my eyes, burning hotter than any of the forges in Cabin 9. My breath became warm, my throat closing up and becoming dry as the tears fall off of my cheeks like rain. My nose and cheeks redder than any strawberry in the field.

I grip onto Will's shirt, falling to my knees and crying into Will's shirt. "P-please W-Will.... D-don't do this...." I sob.

"You have till the Harpies come out to move." Will said coldly, walking past me. Muttering and mumbling to himself to calm himself down as I slowly fall to the floor. Curling into a ball and clutching my stomach as my tears turn the dirt underneath my face slowly turning to mud with my tears.

So that was chapter 1 !!

Thank you so much for reading and I really hope you enjoyed!

A like would be greatly appreciated because it really supports me (you don't have to if you don't want to) :]

[planetary-gus]

Some downsides to the demigods powers/just being a demigod in general

Quick TW, I advise you tread with caution because some of these can be darker than the rest

1. When Will heals he's literally putting a piece of his own health into someone's body, so if he goes too far he'll end up killing himself

2. All the Apollo kids have very very sensitive ears, which contributes to sensory issues, getting overwhelmed, and meltdowns

3. Hazel/the Hecate kids struggle separating reality from illusion sometimes and can be prone to psychosis and hallucinations

4. Hypnos kids very ironically have insomnia

5. Similarly, Poseidon kids are prone to dehydration

6. Zeus kids are obviously asthmatic

7. The Hades kids have hypermobility issues/hEDS

8. Any chthonic demigods also struggle with fainting disorders

9. Some Hermes kids have ironic navigation issues, and can never remember any directions they're given

10. Apollo kids can't lie even if their life is directly on the line

11. Aphrodite kids are prone to NPD and struggle to form relationships

12. Ares kids are just as prone to BPD or bipolar and struggle with vulnerability and letting people in

13. Rachel commonly dissociates and sometimes feels like her body isn't actually hers

14. Hazel has problems with stiff muscles and her body feeling like a rock itself

15. Frank sometimes forgets he's actually a person

16. Athena kids are prone to anxiety and panic disorders, paranoia, and agoraphobia

17. Reyna forgets she has an actual body of her own

18. Demigods in general are prone to POTS or autoimmune disorders

19. Leo is sensitive to any other kind of burn except fire (steamburns/carpetburn/sunburn/etc)

20. Nico is prone to hypothermia if he overuses his powers

21. Leo and Will are both prone to overheating from their powers

22. Iris kids are ironically either colorblind, or have the color perception a shrimp. There is no in between.

23. Dionysus kids often have ABS (Auto-Brewery Syndrome)

24. Hephaestus kids are prone to heat stroke/fevers

25. As well as issues with weakness and fragile bones/joints in their legs

26. Some Apollo kids can scream so loud they can burst eardrums or even stun those close enough, although this usually leaves them with raw, bleeding throats

27. Demeter kids are prone to scoliosis due to how frequently they need to bend down to garden

28. Hermes kids usually mask their real personalities with a "chaotic mask" so they usually forget what they're really like

29. Iris kids are very sensitive to light and often need to wear sunglasses just to be able to walk around because of retina sensitivity

30. Occasionally, Athena kids can experience degeneration in their optic nerves that can cause blindness and eventually spread to other areas of the body (bilateral optic neuropathy is what I believe it's called but feel free to correct me on that)

Add to this list as you please, and this was all just some silly things me an my gf thought of, I apologize if we upset anyone

[raps-hellion]

six of crows in pjo:

kaz brekker — son of mercury (roman)

powers:

ability to manipulate locks, deadbolts, touch/face identification on devices, etc. can also correctly guess pin numbers, security questions, captchas, etc.

money is drawn to him — loose change, wallets, credit cards, etc. he can also create small amounts of legitimate-looking counterfeit currency from any country from a provided example.

is gifted at persuasion and deception, and can haggle/bargain effectively to achieve his desired outcome.

inej ghafa — daughter of nemesis (roman)

powers:

opponents are also similarly injured when attacking/striking her (ie. arrow ricochets back into its shooter, sword shatters and cuts its wielder, etc.). the severity of the retributive attack is always equal to what inej receives initially

ability to alter someone's luck/fortune — can change good luck to bad and vice-versa, but only if they deserve it

always has perfect balance, whether it be in battle, on a high-wire, upside-down in a handstand, etc.

jesper fahey — son of apollo (greek)

powers:

perfect aim when shooting a firearm, bow, crossbow, slingshot, etc.

can put curses in the form of disease or sickness on his ammunition. whoever is shot will be plagued by the disease until the sun sets

can 'see' into the immediate future for certain minor outcomes (he would describe it as more of a 'divine hunch'), such as in blackjack, three card monty, roulette, rolling a dice, flipping a coin, etc.

nina zenik — daughter of hecate (greek)

powers:

can manipulate the mist to cast glamours/illusions upon people to make them appear different and trick both mortal and non-mortals alike

has the innate ability for magic and can cast any spell she's capable of; the power and effectiveness of the spell depends on her confidence and health

can control and summon certain types of dead, such as spirits, ghosts, or souls of the damned (necrokinesis)

matthias helvar — son of mars (roman)

powers:

higher stamina, speed, and strength than the average demigod. has faster reflexes and can dodge/parry otherwise lethal attacks that would kill/injure anyone else.

able to perfectly wield any weapon he chooses.

can bond and commune with wolves, mars's sacred animal.

wylan van eck — son of hephaestus (greek)

powers:

can create small sparks and explosions with his hands like lit gunpowder or firecrackers/fireworks

can detonate explosives such as grenades, landmines, bombs etc. from a range of 1500-2000 feet by reaching out through a form of telekinesis and triggering them. can similarly disarm any explosive

innate understanding of mechanics and electronics.

[polyhexianbirb]

OOKOSJEKJ SO I HAVE AN AU FOR EPIC I call it the Double Mulan au.

So Penelope, who is blessed by Ares does a Mulan and dresses in Odysseus's armour and head to war disguised as him. She cuts her hair and binds her chest and Ares gives her a gift that will make her voice deeper than it is. She can fight bc she is Spartan ofc.

But there cant be two Odysseus's running around, so when Odysseus realises she is gone, he starts dressing like her and pretending to be her, and he looks after Telemachus. He keeps the country in tact and gets to stay with his son, and Athena teaches him to weave. Just for authenticity's sake, he also grows his hair, and Athena gives a similar gift to him that Ares gave Penelope, just to make his voice more feminine.

Au notes down below:

And i have a whole plan for this au like. Penelope still gets gifted the Moly by Hermes bc he can respect the dedication to the bit. Penelope only reveals herself as a woman during Other Ways bc Circe had thought it was a man's chest and disnt mean to touch actual women Boobas how embarrassing--

Oh and the Cyclops thing is different. Penelope doesn't care enough about her crew and Ares is all about the passion of war (which is why he and Aphrodite are a thing, they're both passion and ugliness and desire and red and blood) eo he gets upset that she didn't care to bring back the dead bodies of the crew. She still yells Odysseus's name to puss of Ares, except literally only Ares and Athena know about the swap rn so Poseidon is just forever angry at the wrong person.

Sirens well just say that the only person to see the illusion is the person they're targeting, so only Penelope sees Odysseus, the others just see a siren. Otherwise it'd make Odysseus look like a second Narcissus. And she still kills them.

"I see your man with a wife who is haunting, a lady with a trail of bodies"

"WHO?"

Calypso is just happy to have someone there. She definetly knows this is a woman, but Penelope still tries to keep up the ruse. By God Games the gods who were all in it all found out by now about the switch, and hold up lemme wrote their arguments:

Apollo: she fought against Troy, she is one of the main reasons one of his temples is in disarray! How dare she! Plus the prophecies state Odysseus should've been the one to fight, that didn't happen though!

Hephestus: she literally didn't care, like seriously. His argument mostly stays the same, and Ares finds it hard to defend her on this one, because yeah, her family is her main priority, but she's passionate about them at least?

Aphrodite: my man is weak to Aphrodite. Her argument is that she left her beloved alone, disappearing to the middle of the night with no word of where she went, that isn't love, she disnt even say a proper goodbye. He tries to say that she loved him enough to leave, and Aphrodite is like 'you're lucky I love you, we're having such great ******** tonight"

Athena: she is upset because Odysseus has been alone, Penelope is cunning yes, but her champion was meant to be the one in the war, not Ares's he stole her spotlight, her champion is suffering now, and he should deal with the consequences. He basically uses logic against her, saying she is being emotional for a change and explains that if Penelope stays away, Odysseus will just keep suffering.

Hera: "look how much she loves him! They're so in love they think alike! They have both been loyal!" And Hera ofc eats that shit up.

And I feel like for Odysseus's side of things he couldn't really teach Telemachus too much in fighting, bc the suitors are there messing with everything. Instead of Athena helping Telemachus in a fight it's Ares, an then when he sees how stressed Odysseus is, how far the charade has gone, he realises Penelope has to get home.

Oh and Penelope definetly makes some Poseidon Sashimi on the way home.

[talonabraxas]

“I have united with the serpent of the beyond. I have accepted everything beyond into myself.” -C.G. Jung, The Red Book

The Caduceus - Magical Staff of Hermes Talon Abraxas

Through his sacrifice the Serpent-Saviour initiates a new winding on the spiral of the next dimension, marking the beginning of a New Age. He is like The Redeemer on the cross. Through him man pulls himself up at the moment of death into the lunar foundations of the next world. The Adept who touches the earth like the serpent's tail sacrifices his life to lift up the whole in his journey back to his Spiritual Seat. He is the Spiralled Serpent of the Tree of Life. "He is the Spiralled Serpent of the Tree of Life. The trunk of the Asvatta tree grows from heaven and descends at every Beginning from the two dark wings of the Swan of Life. The two Serpents, the ever-living and its illusion (spirit and matter) whose two heads grow from the one head between the wings, descend along the trunk, interlacing in close embrace. The two tails join on earth (the manifested universe) into one, and this is the great illusion."

Ophios and Ophiomorphos, Apollo and Python, Osiris and Typhon, Christos and the Serpent, are all convertible terms, all Logoi. "One is unintelligible without the other." They are spiritual saviours and physical regenerators; the former ensure immortality for the Divine Spirit and the latter give it through regeneration of the seed. The serpent or saviour has to die because he reveals the secret of the Immortal Ego. Human consciousness is related to the balancing and flow of subtle energy currents. The Sakti of Siva actively revolves around the Siva lingham, the neutral rod of the caduceus. The lotus centers in the body are pierced by the Sakti energy passing into progressively finer vibrations. The Buddha termed this 'the untying of all the knots in the inverse order.' Man approaches the Divine through spiral stages of initiation. Apollonius of Tyana spoke of the Second Hour when "by the duad, the zodiacal fish chant the praises of God; the fiery serpents entwine about the caduceus and the thunder becomes harmonious." This is one of twelve zodiacal steps of successive initiation, another being to study the balanced forces in nature and learn how harmony results from the analogy of contraries, "to know the Great Magical Agent and two-fold polarization of universal light."

[folkdances]

in the trilogy, character pairs were a lot of the time set in bringing someone back from the dead or generally playing with the dead and the undead and the alive. this was the case with mia/maya in aa1, mimi/ini and adrian/celeste in aa2 (edgeworth/franziska as well to a certain degree), and of course in aa3 it was iris/dahlia, but also godot/diego, and obviously there was a lot more going on but this is a recurring thing that ace attorney does. it works with the turnabout theme, reviving the dead and reviving dead cases, and it works with phoenix's literal name. that's why i think it's really cool that that doesn't happen in aa4. aa4 is a really grounded game and isn't super interested in telling these literally 'magical' stories. the feys were magic, but trucy and troupe gramarye are magicians who work with practical things, illusion and obfuscation.

of course it is implied that trucy and apollo's perception ability is magical in nature, but i don't think it is ever outright stated that it is the same way it is confirmed that the feys possess unique magical powers. and because aa4 is so grounded and so invested in telling this particular story about corruption in every meaning of the term, it does its character contrasts with characters being "moral" and being "immoral" in the sense that the lines between these two labels are very blurry.

there is the contrast of kristoph/klavier, obviously — klavier is the good one because he can accept defeat in the name of truth, because he strives to find the truth and, when he realizes that what he is pushing for is not the right thing, will stop pushing for that thing, whereas kristoph is driven by his own pride and ego. it gets more complicated when you shift your focus towards, for example, phoenix (attorney)/phoenix (father). trilogy phoenix is naive and loyal and has these searing convictions (not that apollo doesn't), but he regularly puts people on pedestals and himself in positions to be betrayed. it is difficult for him to accept that his judgement of a person might have been faulty we see this thinking in turnabout goodbyes and in farewell, my turnabout and in bridge to the turnabout.

disbarred phoenix has lost that naivete because of the sheer amount of time that has passed, yes, but also because of the breadth of the "betrayal" he suffered. we know that disbarred phoenix wright is still a "good person", but he is more willing to get his hands dirty, is more willing to lie and omit and yeah, cheat.

there is the example of lamiroir/machi, in which lamiroir is portrayed as being a very innocent and tragic figure and for a good portion of the case, we sort of believe that machi has taken advantage of her innocence to a certain degree. the main parallel is of course that of kristoph/phoenix, but i think it is so interesting how phoenix dips a hand into the same methods kristoph used with the bloody ace — a less drastic and "evil" play, yes, but one from the same book nonetheless.

back to what i said about dying cases and turnabout, that's what a lot of the trilogy cases, every single one almost, focused on. the end-message is always one of rebirth and reinvigoration — two examples so you know what i'm talking about: in turnabout goodbyes, phoenix's revelation of the truth by bringing dl-6 back from the 'dead' is what starts edgeworth's journey towards becoming a different person. in rise from the ashes, his highlighting the detective's work in bringing sl-9 back from the dead is what frees the skye sisters and allows lana to experience a "new lease on life". this repeats over and over again. these are very classic endings. but in aa4, what's highlighted is the exact oppposite: corruption.

kristoph starts off as a very cool and collected person (in the player's eyes) and his descent into paranoia and greed and egotism is revealed to us across the past and present. we see apollo start off in turnabout trump as a different person than who he becomes by the end of turnabout succession; he doesn't become a bad person, but he's been through enough that he develops a sheen of pessimism while still remaining recognizably apollo, so brash and convinced and caught in the pursuit of justice, a corruption, yes, but less drastic. i already covered the change phoenix undergoes. trucy goes from being an element of zak's tricks to conducting tricks of her own (page vs ace). lamiroir has undergone a sort of breakdown of identity. wocky's slowly dying. even the clients we defend vary so deeply from the clients of the trilogy in that their innocence is already cast in doubt when apollo defends them because they've already gotten their hands dirty or are societally deemed 'shady characters'. in the first case, the client is a disgraced and disbarred lawyer. in the second, a gangster part of a violent mob. in the third, a seemingly innocent child is revealed to be a smuggler. and of course behind it all there is the legal system, already dark and corrupt in phoenix's time, now twisted so far out of shape that it is a miracle any cases are won at all. and that's also why i think making the prosecutor apollo goes up against (klavier) be a very just person works out amazingly.

not sure how to really end this but tl;dr apollo justice is an amazing game that plays with themes in a very different way from the trilogy and i love it!