#The Greek Gods Book Tag | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pascalispretty · 7 months ago

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each man's mad desire

General Marcus Acacius x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Marcus Acacius is a conqueror. You invite him to conquer you.

Word Count: 3.8k

Tags: marcus fucks a nymph, predator/prey, knifeplay, blood, thigh riding, rough sex, sorta consensual-non-consent? Reader very explicitly wants him and invites him to hunt her down. Marcus has an unfashionably huge dick.

A/N: I swore I wasn't going to write for another character from an unreleased film, yet here we are. I loved studying Classics, so there are easter eggs within for those familiar with mythology. "Nymph" is more Greek than Roman, but it's also the better-known version of the word. Barcinus is a completely made-up cognomen for him (from the Latin name for Barcelona). Ichor is a Greek concept, but too delicious not to borrow here. Big dicks really were considered unattractive - it was a sign of barbarism to have a big penis. Title from Book IX of The Aeneid. Painting is 'The Charmer' by John William Waterhouse. (ao3)

The battle is won, the men are settled, and General Marcus Acacius is restless. He wears the efforts of the day in the blood and grime and sand coating his skin, the ache in his muscles. The city is retaken. The barbarians have been slaughtered or captured. He knows he should rest.

And yet, he wanders.

The camp is close by the beach. As he walks, the sound of the army behind him fades away, drowned out by the sound of the sea. The inviting aroma of the campfires and roasting meat is replaced by the smell of salt. There are sentries out here, somewhere in the night. He pays them no mind; he wishes to be alone. Grass turns to sand underfoot and still Acacius walks on. At the edge of the sea, he pauses briefly.

Across the Great Sea, to the east, stands Rome. It’s veiled by darkness and distance, but he turns to look for it anyway. He misses it the way a loyal son misses a beloved father. Word of a great victory will travel before him, the whispers moving faster than any army can.

When he returns home, he hopes he will be warmly welcomed. Those seeking to ride his skirts into Imperial favour will doubtless fall over themselves to praise him, at least. They will preen and flatter, and he will nod humbly and thank them.

“The Gods were with me.” It is always his answer, when asked of his victories. It is a clean answer. Men praise him for his piety; they do not imagine the lives he has sacrificed, the atrocities he has committed, the horrors of sacking a city. The Gods were with him; he does not have to speak of loosing his men like feral dogs upon innocents, of slaughtering barbarian sons so they cannot grow up to seek their vengeance on Rome.

Acacius turns and walks down the beach, leaving the camp behind him. The silvery light of the stars and moon light his path along the coast. He simply enjoys being away from all others, the crash of the waves and his own footsteps the only noise he can hear. The ground to his right begins to rise, soft grass yielding to rock. He has no sense of how long he has walked for when the beach before him suddenly ends. The shoreline curves sharply inward, creating a rocky inlet.

He has no desire to turn back now. Perhaps the path reemerges on the other side. He follows the curve of the stone inward. Ahead, he can see the path sloping down towards the waterline, leading towards the dark mouth of a cave. The tide is coming in; the water at the entrance to the grotto must be at least knee-deep.

Acacius is turning to leave when he notices her.

The inlet in the rock forms a pool at the entrance to the cave. Even in the silvery moonlight, the water looks beautiful and clear. It should not surprise him that a maiden might come to bathe there, away from prying eyes.

For it is a maiden that stops him in his tracks, fixes his boots to the stone. Her back is turned to him; she is perched atop a rock, her bare feet dangling in the saltwater of the pool. Now that he is aware of her, he thinks he hears her singing over the sounds of the waves, a melody he does not recognise.

An honourable man would depart. Acacius can only see her back, but she must be noble. Her dress is so white it is almost blinding, even in the starlight. Her feet are bare, but he spies a pair of finely-wrought sandals on the rocks beside her. Certainly a noble lady then.

His mind is made up to leave.

And at that very moment, she turns.

***

You had not expected to be discovered. Perhaps you might have toyed with him if you had. You could have disguised yourself as a maiden in need of assistance, a princess cast ashore by a shipwreck. There are endless amusements to be found among the mortals.

Yet he has stumbled upon your grotto quite by accident, and from your first glimpse, he intrigues you.

Marcus Acacius Barcinus.

Something whispers his name to you; you know it as soon as you see him, just as you know he has dark hair threaded with grey. You allow a smile to play on your lips.

To his credit, this man does not move. Confronted with something so nakedly celestial, other men have lost their minds. What is it for a man to look upon the face of the divine? They do not always survive it. This one seems strong. He may yet survive you.

“Hail, noble General,” you start, turning in your seat on the rock so you may face him more directly. He is a handsome one. His lovely dark eyes drink you in from head to toe.

“You know me?” He manages after a moment. Not mad then, not yet anyway. You laugh, and he seems startled by the sound.

“I do.” Sliding off the rock you step into the water, your stola clinging to your skin. “General Marcus Acacius Barcinus, son of Gaius Acacius. Your piety is known.” He is always attentive with his sacrifices. You can smell the burning flesh and spilled wine dedicated to the heavens from here, in honour of his latest victory.

You take a few steps towards him. He’s still atop the rocky crest, almost looking down on you. You near the base of the slope, your skirts drying the moment they leave the water, and halt again. The mouth of the grotto is to your back; you can hear the lap of the waves echoing against the rocky walls.

“And which noble goddess do I have the honour of addressing?” He asks. You have many names, too many to sift through. A mortal wrote you into a poem once; you give him the name the poet gave you.

“I had not thought ever to look upon a nymph before.” There is something in the way he says it; a tone of disbelief colouring his voice. It’s as though he expects to wake up in his tent at any moment. In the dark violet light of twilight, the blood on his skin looks brown and rusty. You can almost taste the iron on the air.

“Are you content merely to look?” You ask him, a sly smile on your lips. You already know he is not. This man is a conqueror, and he is looking at you with all the intensity and desire of a man set upon conquest. He does not speak for a long moment. Perhaps he is afraid of offending you, of saying the wrong thing and finding himself transformed into a pig or sea foam.

You walk a little closer to him, emerging from the water. Closer now, the smell of him drowning out the salt of the sea. He reeks of man, of blood and sweat and such pure vitality you nearly stagger. He’s so breathtakingly alive. If all mortal men are thus, you understand why your sisters seek them out and take them to bed, even bear their children.

“I admire a man who knows how to take what he desires. A conqueror in all things,” you continue, feeling the warmth of his gaze as he watches the sway of your hips. Once you are an arm’s length away from him, you reach out. You cannot help it. He’s such a marvellous specimen of manhood, the kind that ought to be honoured with a kingdom or a divine son or his form traced in the stars.

He does not stop you when you rest your palm against the leather of his cuirass. It’s warm to the touch, whether from the heat of his body or a day of the sun beating down upon it. The black leather has a gilded woman’s face across the front; Minerva perhaps. It gives you pause. If he values Minerva and her strategies above Mars and his frenzy, he may not enjoy your games.

Nevertheless, you will not let the tastes of mortal men unnerve you. He watches you as you undo the knot at one shoulder, and wordlessly reaches to help you. Together, the two of you free him from his heavy armour. As he sets it down gently against the rock, you nearly choke on him. You can hear the thrum of his heart, smell the salt of his sweat, the iron in his blood.

You have never starved. Yet this conqueror of men is like being blessed with a feast and realising for the first time that you have been dying of hunger all your life. Freed from his heavy leathers, you step so closely to him that your glimmering white dress brushes against his filthy red tunic. You reach out to cup his jaw, enjoying the way his skin feels to your touch.

He swallows thickly, his lovely eyes searching your face.

“I want you.” He says it simply, though you know it must have taken courage. Men have died for such insults before. You let a smile curl around your lips.

“Mars himself had my maidenhead. I do not submit easily to the advances of men.” Standing on tiptoe, you lean in until your lips nearly touch the shell of his ear. “If you want me, you will have to take me.”

It’s all the prompting you give him before you turn and run.

You run down the beach, back the way he came. You have more powerful kin who could outrun him with ease, if they chose. Minerva could be a continent away in moments, if she chose. You do not have their same powers; you might be fleeter of foot than a mortal woman, but you cannot transform yourself into a swan and fly back to the heavens.

Behind you, you hear Acacius’ feet pounding against the sand. The noise blurs with the roar of his heartbeat, thumping harder as he chases you. You run faster, pulling your skirts up with one hand so they cannot tangle around your legs. It has been far too long since you felt this exhilarated. Off in the distance, you can see the lights of his camp, the torches and bonfires burning brightly in the twilight.

You lose yourself to the chase, paying the distance no mind as you race down the beach. Sand flies up beneath your bare feet, gritty under your toes as you run. Something in you wants to turn around, to see if the handsome general is still close behind you. You can hear him well enough to know he is behind you, but not well enough to gauge the distance.

You don’t look. You only run.

Even though you had invited the hunt, desperately hoping to be caught, the hand that catches your waist surprises you. He seizes you by the waist and tackles you into the sand, pinning you beneath his muscular bulk. The feeling of being trapped sends a perverse thrill racing through you, something warm stirring in your belly.

Though he has caught you, you do not give in so easily.

You thrash underneath him, trying to throw him off you. Acacius is unyielding. His large hands grip your arms; his knees squeeze at your sides. You get one arm free and bring it up. You’re not sure what you intend to do; you don’t want to break him. Scratch him, perhaps? You never get the chance to find out.

Before you see him move, he seizes your arm and pins your wrist beneath his foot. One hand flies to your throat; the other draws a dagger from its sheath and holds the point against the swell of your breast.

For a long moment, you cannot breathe. The large hand at your throat squeezes just enough to threaten a loss of air. The foot on your wrist makes the delicate bones there grind together on just the right side of pleasure-pain. And oh, the blade at your heart. The tip pierces your skin and you don’t know whether to scream or cry or vomit from the shock.

You have never been so still in your life.

When has anything mortal ever pierced your skin? When has anything mortal managed to cut through the skin of your kith and kin? You have vague memories; bandaging Mars’ side after the great spearman Diomedes struck him outside Ilium. You watch in horror and awe as a bead of ichor seeps from the pinprick wound. Mars has made you bleed before, but you never thought a mortal might draw your glittering, golden blood.

You look up at him, your conqueror. He is panting hard, but his face shows no exhaustion; only determination. His eyes are nearly black with desire, and his lovely black and grey curls are damp with sweat. Gods, you want him. You want him to hunt you down as he would a deer, to throw you down and take you like some common mortal whore.

Watching you closely, Acacius eases his grip on your throat. A man used to gauging the weakness of his enemies has seen right through you in turn. He knows you do not need air to breathe. He knows he has done something astounding in the knife at your breast. He holds it steady as he reaches beneath the skirts of his tunic, pulling at the strings of his underthings. He pulls it free with a grunt and discards it beside you in the sand.

Free from its confinement, his manhood pushes against the skirt of his tunic. Something low in your belly twists in anticipation, slick coating the insides of your thighs. Your blood feels as though it’s boiling beneath your skin as Acacius grips the fine cloth of your stola in one filthy hand.

“You are the most beautiful thing I have ever laid eyes upon,” he tells you, in all sincerity. You tremble underneath him as he pushes your skirts up around your waist, another bead of ichor welling up around the tip of the blade.

You gasp as the metal shifts, and his eyes flick to your face. Almost lovingly, his hand wraps around your throat again.

“Do you yield?” When no reply is immediately forthcoming, he presses his advantage. The hand at your throat and foot at your wrist push harder; more glittering blood beads at your breast. The surface tension finally breaks, sending the blood dripping down towards your neck.

“I yield.” In an instant, he relaxes his hold. The foot on your wrist disappears, as does the blade. The hand on your throat remains, tipping your head up so he can kiss you. He kisses like his master, Mars; hard and demanding. You return the kiss with bruising intensity, nipping at his lower lip. It seems only fair that you make him bleed a little, in turn.

His beard prickles against your skin, and you answer it by sliding your hand into his curls and pulling roughly. Acacius groans against your mouth, crushing himself closer to you and forcing your legs apart with his knee. His muscular thigh presses against your bare cunt, the pressure sending liquid fire dancing through your body. You rut up against his thigh eagerly, your slick smearing against his skin.

Acacius notices your movements, breaking off the kiss to stare at you. The raw lust in his eyes makes you keep going, rocking your hips desperately against him. His thigh flexes between your legs, and you groan loudly. Without taking his eyes off you, his hand drifts to cup your breast, tantalisingly close to the tiny wound on your unblemished skin.

“Are you going to stab me again, slayer of men?” You ask him, tauntingly. You wouldn’t mind if he did.

“No, dear mistress. I’ll watch you debase yourself on my thigh.” Oh, you want to keep him. Your sisters have kept mortals before; you remember well the fuss around sweet Hylas, cunning Ulysses. Your conqueror finds your nipple through the fine material of your dress, the flesh stiffening beneath his fingers as he toys with you.

Your hips roll easier, faster as you sink deeper into your pleasure. Every glide becomes slicker as you soak his skin. It’s been some time since you’ve so blatantly sought your own pleasure, and you welcome it back eagerly. That familiar tension is coiling tightly in your belly and sends you spiralling higher with every movement.

Acacius watches you with fascination. His own pleasure is forgotten for the moment, though you suppose he is enjoying this. Something divine rubbing against him like a cat in heat; no man alive would believe him if he told them. Your breath comes in short, sharp gasps and you clutch at Acacius’ wrist to ground yourself. He’s so solid and warm to your touch; his vitality is unlike any aphrodisiac you have ever known.

It’s not long before you come with a cry, your nails digging into Acacius’ skin as you shudder against him. The fire in your belly burns through you, the heat of it radiating out to your fingertips. It leaves you boneless beneath your conqueror. He seizes the advantage, pulling your legs wider apart to slot his other leg between them.

You struggle. Why not? It amuses you to make him manhandle you into place. He pulls your legs wider with one hand. With the thumb of the hand at your breast, he presses just below the cut. The burst of pain makes you hiss. Cowed, you let him pull your legs apart, his eyes feasting on your cunt. You must look a mess, swollen and soaked.

Acacius lets go of your leg and pulls up the hem of his tunic. He’s big, unfashionably so for his countrymen. Beads of fluid leak from the reddened tip, and he swipes them away with his thumb. He settles himself between your thighs, and you gasp when he notches the blunt head of his cock against your entrance. Without warning or reprieve, he forces his cock inside you.

You throw your head back against the sand, stars exploding against your closed eyelids as you dance along the knife edge of pleasure and pain. A deep groan rumbles out of Acacius’ throat as he presses deeper, working against your tight muscles to seat himself within you. He’s unrelenting, his length thick and twitching as it fills you.

There’s no other word for it; you wail up at the star-strewn sky, pleasure flooding through you. Your body feels too small to contain the fire being stoked inside you, deep in your core. You pull at Acacius, nails clawing, dragging him down to kiss you. His lips meet yours in a messy crash, all tongues and teeth as he finally seats himself fully within you.

He barely allows you a moment to adjust. He retreats almost fully, his cock nearly leaving you completely, before sliding back in with one fluid stroke of his hips. You’re shaken by how willingly your body accepts him, colouring any pain with so much pleasure you barely notice the discomfort. His hand finds your throat again, squeezing just enough to make you feel lightheaded.

Acacius’ incursions become sharper, harder, as he finds his rhythm. Your hands slide under the hem of his tunic to clutch at his back, your nails leaving behind tiny red crescents in his skin. Every breath you take is shared by him, your mouths so close together you can taste the wine lingering on his tongue. The two of you move together, your moans melting into one another as you fuck like animals in the sand.

It doesn’t take him long to send you over the edge again. Bliss wipes all words from your mind; you can only lie there and let your release crash over you. The ichor in your veins feels like it’s singing. Acacius looks down on you in awe, and it only drives you higher. You want to keep him. The Heroic Age is too far past; the world is lacking for heroes. Perhaps you and Acacius can make a few; handsome, strong boys, half-god children who reflect their father’s divine favour.

“Would you give me sons, Acacius?” You ask, breathless at his onslaught. Your foreheads are pressed together still; you cannot see the look on his face. He groans sharply, his hands clutch tighter at you. Is that a yes? What greater blessing to a pious man than a son born to a goddess.

He certainly shows no signs of stopping. He fucks you with the same vigour he fights with. You feel like you’re floating, high above your own body, lost completely to pleasure. Jupiter himself could command you to stop, and you’d be unable to obey. You grow restless beneath him. His hand has slackened around your throat, so you lean down to lick a line across his neck. The taste of salt and iron explodes across your tongue, so delicious that you have to force yourself not to sink your teeth in.

Acacius grunts above you, forcing you back down against the sand. His hips are stuttering; a sign that he’s close to his own release. You want to cry, want to prolong this as much as possible, but you know he has limits. Your sisters have pushed mortal men too far before; you will not make the same mistake, not with so delicious a playmate.

Instead you spur him on. Your nails dig harder into his back, making him groan sharply. His short, desperate thrusts make your eyes roll back into your skull as he touches something deep and private within you, unknown to anyone else.

“I- I must-” He starts, words failing him as he chases his release. You pepper his face with kisses, nip at his kiss-swollen lips.

“You must,” you agree. “I want you to fill me up.” You’re both breathless, barely any air between your bodies to breathe. One of your hands slides into his curls, pulling at them. You guide his head down until your lips are at his ear again.

“I could give you a son,” you whisper. “But only if you finish inside me. Claim me; mark me as yours. Conquer me.”

He tips over the edge with a loud groan, his hips stuttering as he comes. You can feel his cock twitch inside you as he does, filling you with his seed. Perhaps something might catch; he seems virile enough. You cradle his head against the crook of your neck as he catches his breath, his body heavy as he relaxes on top of you.

“Noble Acacius,” you murmur fondly, stroking his curls. “Marcus. What do you make of your new conquest?” He is quiet for a long moment. The crash of the waves fills the silence, the tide drawing closer. Soon, the two of you will have to move.

“I shall never know another victory like it.”

Taglist:

Tagging some people who might be interested: @iamasaddie (per their request for Acacius filth) @avengersfan25 @misscharlielulu @apenny4thots @its-nebuleuse

#general marcus acacius #marcus acacius #marcus acacius x reader #marcus acacius fanfiction #gladiator 2

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starlightkyeom · 2 months ago

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as wild and untamable as the sea | l.c

pairing: greek god!chan x reincarnated sea nymph!f!reader genre: angst, romance, smut | reincarnation, fantasy, greek gods!au rating: explicit, minors DNI word count: ~15.8k warnings: mentions of past unhealthy relationships, (possibly inaccurate) greek mythology, lots of POV switches (but i don't think it's confusing) mentions of eating, explicit smut, multiple sex positions, unprotected sex (just don't), slight edging, overstimulation, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), chan is strong and very in control, i think that's all but let me know if it's not

summary: Chan remembers everything. Every little thing that's happened to him since his days as one of the twelve Olympians. Poseidon to be exact. Even though he tries not to think about it now that he's living in modern times running a sad little aquarium, some memories are more vivid than others. Then, you stumble into his life and he can't explain the draw. You can't seem to figure out how this man is keeping an aquarium like this running when it seems like it's not that busy. Something about him really seems to put you off, despite the fact that he seems drawn to you. None of it makes any sense...until it does.

a/n: this is for the 13 Gods of Olympus collab that @beomcoups & @wooahaeproductions have been tirelessly working on. thank you so much for hosting this! i know this isn't the end for this couple, but i really needed to get this out into the world. if you want to know what happens next with them, let me know.

a/n 2: this is semi-unedited and i'm just throwing it out into the world but i'll come back. if you see anything glaring, no you didn't!

tag list: @illiadiaz, @syluslittlecrows, @yini-yang, @fancypeacepersona, @bitchlessdino, @newjihoonie, @tinyelfperson, @dokyeomkyeom, @miriamxsworld, @hongrizon, @klecksstorys, @gyuminusone, @aaniag, @straykidswhoo789, @kimseokgen, @beomesbabe, @haolistic, @vanishingboots, @harry-the-pottypus, @pyeonghongrie, @nuttywastelandmentality, @writingbarnes, @gyuhao365, @divinityyy, @dibidibidismynameisleeknow, @tusswrites, @cookiearmy

Another day, another dollar.

Wasn’t that what the humans said about another day spent working at some mindless job? Despite all the years he’s spent blending into their world, Chan still doesn’t really understand the humans. Doesn’t really understand why they put up with so many things they seemingly hate. Doesn’t really understand why they waste their short lives on something that makes them miserable. But, in fairness to the humans, Chan has also never had to worry about the trivial things that come along with working like money, possessions, or a home. When you’re one of the original gods of Olympus and life is seemingly infinite, money isn’t really an issue.

That’s who Chan was in another lifetime: Poseidon. The God of the Sea, among other things. At least, until Olympus fell. A painful thought that he usually tries to push from his mind.

In the early days after Olympus fell, Chan still went through life acknowledging who he was. He leveraged his powers for favors or for payment. He used his control of the water and everything in it to get him what he needed. But, the years went by and the Olympians became the stuff of myth. Of stories. The kind of characters that you read about in books. Only the most eccentric members of society continue to worship the Olympians as if they’re real. Which they are, Chan reminds himself. Or, they were. As the faith faded, so did the Olympians’ belief in restoring themselves to full power. One by one, they gave up the task of finding a way back until it was only Chan and Zeus left. Two of the brightest minds of Olympus. Even they had to admit their own defeat.

Which leads to the present day. Chan has taken on a new persona, for the…well, he’s lost track of what number this one is. He’s just thankful for his ability to shapeshift into someone new whenever he needs to. Takes a new name every time, too. At first, he tried to keep in touch with his siblings and the other Olympians. That, too, fades over time. It’s been at least a century since he’s spoken to any of them. Though, occasionally, he’ll catch wind of something through the chattering of local sea creatures. Something that says at least some of them are still out there.

Chan sighs. There’s really no reason for him to be wandering down memory lane in this way. He thinks, not for the first time, that maybe he needs to pick a different cover job. One that will keep his mind a little more occupied. The reality is, though, he’s tried nearly everything he could think of over the centuries. Changing professions is a frequent occurrence when he doesn’t want to let his body show too many signs of age. Not that he minds, it’s just that people start to ask too many questions about how he’s handling things someone “his age” shouldn’t be able to handle. In the end, working with sea life has always been the best. And this set up, where he’s running a smaller aquarium off of some long forgotten boardwalk in an area that doesn’t get much traffic, is also great. It isn’t even that Chan doesn’t like being around people. He finds humans entertaining in most senses. It’s just that nothing in this life is permanent for him. He’s not going to fall in love and grow old with someone. Best to just keep things at arm’s length.

Most days are more or less the same and Chan works the majority of them. On the rare days off, he’s not far away since his little house is within walking distance of both the aquarium, the boardwalk it’s on, and the water. He trusts the limited staff that he has because he pays them well. Better than any other similar business, but he values loyalty. And they don’t seem to question how he’s able to make things work. That is largely due to the anonymous donors that make monthly contributions to the aquarium. Really, it’s just Chan funneling money that he’s earned over his many years on Earth so that he can keep a business afloat. Nobody seems to have anything to say. Beyond the staff not asking questions, they are all very good at their jobs. It makes life easier for Chan that way because he doesn’t have to micromanage them. Everyone knows what they’re supposed to do and will only ask questions if they hit an actual block. No, the aquarium runs very smoothly. It just doesn’t get a lot of business.

Since every day kind of blends together, Chan almost never realizes as days or weeks or even months pass by. He’s in a sort of autopilot where he also knows what he has to do and just does it without question. It’s just rinse and repeat day in and day out.

Until it’s not. Until the first day that he notices you in his small, out of the way little aquarium. Until the day that everything starts to change.

You’re not really sure what pulls you in for the first time. You’ve probably passed this sad little aquarium dozens of times without giving it a second thought. Then, one day, you decide that you might as well go in. The cost of admission is incredibly reasonable, but you think that’s probably why you haven’t gone sooner. It might seem counterintuitive. You just wonder how well the animals can be taken care of with such a low cost of admission. You’re not sure if you can handle seeing animals mistreated. Still, there’s no going back now. Even with the outside seemingly a little poorly cared for, you still find your feet pulling you forward.

You’ve never been more wrong about anything in your life.

The dingy outside gives way to a vibrant inside that’s teeming with love and light. The art on the walls is carefully curated to match the different areas of the aquarium. There are workers with genuine smiles going about their days. Even the animals seem to be happy. It’s also deceptively large on the inside. It makes you wonder why it looks so run down from the outside. Surely, someone that cares this much about the animals could care a little more for the outside as well. Maybe that’s the point. Why waste money on an outside nobody really cares about when it can go to the best care possible?

Almost immediately, you feel a sense of peace wash over you. Just this morning, you were ready to explode from all the stress in your life. Now, stress feels like the furthest thing from your mind. In fact, you can’t even remember what you were stressed about. Strange. This is the first time you remember a single place erasing any sort of worry. Just as you’re about to consider that the place holds some kind of magic, you realize that not everyone seems to be as at ease. A mother scolds her child and an elderly couple bicker. It breaks a little bit of the illusion, though you still feel calm.

Subconsciously, your feet carry you to the area with the sea otters. They have always been some of your favorites, even if they’re not the typical sea resident that people think about. As you watch on, two chase each other around the enclosure. They seem like they must be young with the way they can’t seem to stop playing. It’s incredibly endearing to watch. Another, slightly larger, otter emerges from around a bend and the original two quickly dip under the water to shoot off. It almost seems like a mother scolding her children, but maybe you’re creating too many stories within your own mind. Your imagination, especially around sea life, can be a bit active.

A few minutes later, a worker comes out and starts feeding all the otters. They’re quick to come and get the food, showing just how many there are. You weren’t expecting to see such a large population in this off-the-beaten-path aquarium. The man feeding them looks young, but that’s true of nearly everyone that you’ve seen here. They all look young and entirely too pretty. This man is no different. He’s sporting a very blond, shaggy semi-mullet that doesn’t look like it could possibly be his natural hair color. Yet, it looks remarkably believable on him. When you frown at the amount of food he’s giving to the otters, he walks over to the side of the enclosure and leans on the railing close to you. He tosses a bucket of crab legs out into the water and the otters go crazy for that. It seems an odd choice for animals living in captivity, but what do you know?

“Did you know,” the man begins, “that sea otters eat 25% of their weight in food every day?”

Well. That certainly explains it. “I didn’t.”

“I like to give them the crab legs too because it’s a fun little activity for them,” he carries on with a smile. “It’s also something they’d eat in the wild.”

“That seems…expensive,” you say carefully.

The man only smiles bigger. “Oh it is! But our boss has really great donors for the aquarium and we can afford to feed them well.”

“Well, then the otters are definitely lucky,” you note and turn back to the otters.

“We all are. Chan takes care of us just as well as all the animals that live here,” he says.

“Chan?” you ask.

“Oh, our boss,” the man carries on happily. “I’m Soonyoung, by the way.”

You take his extended hand and give your own name in response. Soonyoung happily carries on with telling you all about the otters they have, including the name of each one. Then he offers to take you on a tour of the aquarium because of your interest. It’s too nice of an offer to turn down. It also further proves that you should not judge a book by its cover. Every inch of the aquarium is so masterfully cared for and every living being seems happy. That is, if a fish can also seem happy. The tanks aren’t overcrowded or dirty. And, you can’t explain it, but you can just tell they’re happy. Each person that they encounter seems to genuinely love their job. You’re not even sure why you’re paying such close attention. Or why you care so much.

Truthfully, there’s always been something of a call to the ocean. A peace that comes over you when you’re near the water. It was enough to get you to move cities, figuring that would satisfy that need. The pull only got stronger. Plenty of people feel at peace surrounded by water, you reason, and don’t think further on it. You don’t consider that worrying about the conditions in an aquarium may not be normal. Don’t consider that most people don’t start getting moody when they’ve been separated from the ocean too long. Don’t consider that it really is only the ocean. Although sometimes a freshwater lake, when it’s big enough with plenty of fish in it, will fill up your cup, it never lasts as long. It also never works to alleviate your mood when you do something as simple as going into the pool.

The trip around the aquarium with Soonyoung seems like exactly what you need. Until suddenly, it doesn’t. As he’s taking you through an exhibit area, a young man appears from behind a closed door marked as Staff Only. He’s got a dress shirt on with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. His short dark hair highlights striking features. And, you think, he would be beautiful if it weren’t for the frown on his face. He looks entirely too serious for someone so young. He’s also much more dressed up than anyone else at the aquarium.

“Oh, there he is!” Soonyoung exclaims, causing the man to turn towards the two of you. His face softens a bit at seeing Soonyoung before studying you somewhat quizzically.

“Soon,” he says with the air of someone exasperated at Soonyoung’s antics.

“This is Chan, our boss,” Soonyoung carries on and your eyebrows fly into your hairline as he introduces you to his boss.

Truthfully, Chan looks younger than Soonyoung in some ways. But, there’s a wisdom in his face that your new friend lacks. Like he’s lived a hundred lifetimes already. It catches you off guard. But, Chan extends his hand to shake yours and that’s when you feel it. A sudden surge of annoyance that lasts only as long as your hands are connected. If he feels anything, he doesn’t show it. His smile is friendly and it only confuses you further.

A moment later, Chan excuses himself from the pair of you and Soonyoung leads you away to continue the tour. You can’t really shake the odd feeling you got from the handshake, though. When Soonyoung concludes his tour, you ask about opportunities to volunteer. There’s something about this place that feels like home and you’re not really sure what it is. Soonyoung’s face brightens.

“Chan doesn’t believe in volunteers. Even if you only come in once a month, he pays you for your time and obviously waives the entrance fee so you can come visit even when you’re not working,” he says with a bright smile.

“Oh, I don’t need a job…” you start before he waves you off.

“Leave me your contact information and I’ll pass it on. He coordinates everything himself and he can go over it all with you. I’m sure he’d be happy to have another animal lover around here,” Soonyoung says with a smile that you can’t ignore. You just met this man, why are you already incapable of saying no to him?

“Do you have some paper?” you ask.

Chan spends the rest of the day thinking about you after a simple handshake. Then, when Soonyoung tells him that you’re interested in helping out, his pulse races in a way that’s entirely foreign to him. He can’t remember the last time a human turned his world upside down with something so seemingly trivial. In fact, he was so focused on keeping his face neutral, he didn’t notice the look on your face in response to him. He’s too concerned with seeing you again to consider anything else. Too consumed by the need to unravel whatever mystery there is to you that he can’t seem to place. Honestly, Chan can’t remember the last time he felt anything even approaching this. Nothing makes him really feel in this way. Not anymore, at least. He finds himself counting down until your first shift.

Until it actually gets here, that is.

You report to Chan’s office, just as he asks. He holds his breath as you cast your eyes around his office area. Wonders what you’re thinking when your gaze lingers on certain things within the office. For a second, Chan considers whether it seems human enough. It’s been nearly a year since anyone new joined the staff and he wonders if he’s gotten sloppy. Nothing in your face seems to give any sort of feeling away. It surprises Chan a bit that he can’t seem to read anything about you. When your eyes rest on him, he sees a flicker of something he can’t place. Something that looks an awful lot like annoyance.

He confirms it when his hand accidentally grazes yours to hand over your new ID. It says volunteer since you insist on only being there when you have the time, but it’s a full ID anyway. That’s just how Chan does things. When his hand meets yours briefly, he gets the sharpest flash of irritation he’s ever felt. It’s confusing because it is definitely not his own emotion that he’s feeling. And that’s not something that Chan can remember happening before either. Not like this at least.

Chan has powers, he knows that. He can, sometimes, tune into the emotions of others. It’s easiest when he’s trying to tune into a sea animal or someone at home in water. Back before Olympus fell, he was able to tune into the emotions or even the minds of all the creatures in the sea, like the sirens, sea nymphs, merpeople, and everything else you could imagine. Even then, he usually has to actively try to tap into those emotions. It’s not something that just…happens. Not when all he’s done is let his hand graze someone else’s. Not when he’s not actively trying to feel something. It shouldn’t be something that happens with a mere human, either.

You, for your part, don’t seem to realize there’s anything out of the ordinary. Your face looks the same. The same annoyance that you’re trying your hardest to mask under a poor attempt at indifference. Trying to shake it off, Chan calls for Soonyoung to come into the office. But, that doesn’t make it any better. It’s worse, really, because your face immediately changes into one of genuine happiness. Soonyoung seems just as happy to see you and happy at the prospect of showing you around. To be fair, Soonyoung always seems happy when there’s someone new around for him to chat with. Still, your face lighting up for him frustrates Chan in a way he can’t explain.

Your first few times volunteering at the aquarium go really smoothly. Well, once you’re handed off to Soonyoung, it’s smooth. There’s just something about your new boss that you can’t really put your finger on. Seeing him causes annoyance to flare within you. It’s something deep that you can’t really explain and can’t recall feeling before. There’s no reason for you to dislike this man. He’s really just a man, which shouldn’t be enough on its own. Whenever he’s around, he’s perfectly friendly. It’s obvious that he cares deeply for every living thing within the aquarium. This is something he’s incredibly passionate about, which should endear him to you. Yet, it doesn’t. You can’t recall ever disliking a fellow animal lover until now.

Thankfully, you don’t really have to deal with Chan very often. Soonyoung handles your training when you’re working, but everyone that works there seems kind. And everyone seems young. The place is full of bright-eyed 20-somethings who all genuinely seem to want to be there. It contributes to that little nagging feeling in that back of your mind that something is just…off. Not with anyone that works there apart from Chan, though.

Soonyoung seems delighted to see how quickly the otters warm up to you. Apparently, they can be a bit picky with new people. But, the first time you meet them, they all flock to you instead of their normal handler. Anyone else might be frustrated. Instead, he only thinks it’s cute that they seem to love you. Tells you that he thinks he means you're a good person. Apparently, he often judges people based on how the animals react. You both have that in common. It only seems to reinforce the point when this happens with each new enclosure you go to. None of the animals seem to treat you like a stranger. It’s more like they’re greeting an old friend. You can’t really explain that you feel the same way. Your brain periodically supplies a story for some of your new animal friends, too. It’s not the first time it’s happened and you figure it only makes sense in this setting. Your imagination is active and you love the sea creatures.

Each new visit to the aquarium seems somehow better than the last. Well, in most ways. You often feel Chan’s gaze on you before you even look over at him to check. And each time he is actually looking at you. There’s something that just sets your nerves on edge about it. Even the animals around you seem to react to the sudden surge of anger that courses through you. It’s a strong physical reaction without any clear reason that you can figure out. Yet, it’s the way you feel every time you sense his attention on you.

“You good?” Soonyoung asks, eyes cast down at your hands balled into fists.

“Yeah, sorry,” you apologize, turning back to him. “What were you saying?”

“What’s going on with you and Chan?” he asks skeptically.

“Between Chan and me?” you ask with clear surprise.

“Yeah,” he says. “He spends half the time you’re here watching you and…”

“He does, doesn’t he?” you ask, a little too loud. “What’s up with that?”

“What’s up with your hatred for him?” he asks instead.

“I don’t know, I just get a bad feeling,” you say after a moment. “Do you like him?”

“Do I like the boss that overpays me to hang out with animals all day?” he asks with a laugh. Then, he looks at your face and carries on. “Oh, you’re serious. Yeah, I love Chan. None of us really know him that well because he keeps his distance from the staff outside of work, mostly. But, he’s the best boss I can imagine having. I don’t ever get bad vibes off him.”

“Huh,” is all you say before turning back to whatever Soonyoung is teaching you.

Your eyes catch on the mysterious aquarium owner once again and that anger flares. But, you realize that it’s something more complicated than anger. It’s far too complex an emotion to put a name too and definitely too complex for someone you barely know.

It’s just odd you think, not for the first time, that someone seemingly so young is running an aquarium that doesn’t seem to be that busy. How is he affording to take care of the animals and pay his staff so well? How is someone that seems so unlikeable able to convince so many donors to give money when it could be better spent elsewhere?

The nagging voice in the back of your mind reminds you that you seem to be the only person that doesn’t love Chan. Everyone on the staff seems to love him. The few donors his staff have met also seem to only have good things to say. You have to consider the possibility that your feelings about him could be personal or that you’re seeing something that doesn’t impact anyone else. It’s still weird, though. Nothing about this business model should work. Is that a reason to hate someone you don’t actually know? You’re not sure.

Chan speaks with a dolphin that he’s grown to trust. No, not Chan. Poseidon. He’s Poseidon again, in all his glory. And he’s asking the dolphin to find someone for him. He’s explaining where she might be and what to say to her when the dolphin finds her. Stressing how important it is that the dolphin is the one to find her because they’re not the only ones looking. There are others looking as well and Poseidon doesn’t want them to find her. It would be bad, he knows, if anyone but himself or someone working on his behalf were to discover the truth. He’s protecting her as much as he’s protecting himself. At least, that’s what his brain insists. Whether it’s true or not, well…

The scene blurs and shifts. Poseidon is once again by the sea and this time speaking to a giant squid instead of the dolphin. The squid tells him that the woman has been found. That the dolphin succeeded and is currently speaking to her. That brings Poseidon a small sense of relief. Surely, when she understands the situation, she’ll be not only willing to come home but happy to do so. Nothing can keep them separated any longer. They are truly meant to be.

Again, the scene blurs and shifts. This time, Poseidon sits on his throne, trident in hand, while one of his brother’s messengers kneels before him. When she rises, she delivers the message that Zeus has requested for Poseidon and his bride-to-be to join himself and Hera for an upcoming event. That’s not good, Poseidon thinks, not good at all. Surely his brother isn’t fully aware of the situation and yet he sends his messengers with invitations like this. Just as Poseidon prepares himself to make an excuse, the door to the room opens. Usually, he doesn’t allow interruptions, as his guards well know. But, the sight of his love walking through with her head held high keeps him from scolding the guards. He cannot believe that she’s back and walking in as if nothing happened. As if it hasn’t been weeks since they last saw each other. He got word she was coming back, but had not dared to hope for this.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt, my love, but I heard your brother had sent an invitation,” she begins. The messenger won’t notice the hesitation or the emotions that pour off of her because she doesn’t have that gift. Poseidon feels it, though. It doesn’t put him at ease

“It’s fine. You are always welcome to hear anything shared here with me,” he says quickly.

She turns to the messenger with her signature soft smile. “I would still apologize for interrupting your message. However, I heard that you were here with an invitation. I fear that my darling may have declined as I was recently suffering an illness.”

“Yes, that is what I was about to do,” Poseidon agrees.

“There is no need for that as I have told you that I am feeling much better now,” she says with a brief, but calculated, smile at Poseidon. She returns to the messenger. “Please inform Zeus that we would be delighted to join him.”

“I am thankful to hear you’re feeling better and to…see you with my own eyes,” the messenger says slightly suspiciously.

“I am also thankful that I will get to see Hera. After all, we have so much to discuss with the upcoming wedding,” his bride-to-be says.

With pleasant goodbyes, the messenger takes her leave and Poseidon excuses the guards remaining in the chamber. He indicates that his bride should follow him to a much smaller room off to the side so that they can speak. After all, there is so much to discuss after her running away and only to finally return. Yes, she had indicated to the messenger that she intended to go through with the wedding, but Poseidon needs answers. He needs to know why she left and to impress upon her that she could not do something like that again.

Chan wakes up in the early hours of the morning in a cold sweat from the most vivid dream he’s had in centuries. The fact that a dream lingers at all is strange on its own. He doesn’t dream. Not anymore, at least. When he does, the subject is usually something inane and the remnants of it are gone by the time he’s fully awake. This dream is both vivid and lingering, seared into the back of his eyelids like it may never leave him. Perhaps it is because it’s not just a dream.

There’s a lot to Chan’s past that he wants to forget and for good reason. When he was one of the gods of Olympus, he made a lot of decisions that he wouldn’t make now. Or, he likes to think he wouldn’t make the same decisions now. It’s hard to remember the feeling of the weight of the world so many years later. But, he knows he did a lot of things in the interest of finding the greater good. Something that ruined some of his closest relationships and clearly still haunts him today.

Which leads him to this dream. A dream of Amphitrite. The legends about the gods of Olympus over the years have gotten a lot of information both right and wrong. Unfortunately, the legend of Poseidon and Amphitrite seems mostly right, at least to Chan. She was the one true love of his life. The only being in the entire universe that he actually wanted to spend an eternity with. And he had not treated her the way he should have. Hadn’t appreciated her and respected her autonomy the way he should have. That’s something he thinks about now, as he continues to mature and evolve to understand all the mistakes he made once upon a time. He knows that the way he tried to hold onto her was wrong and that he worried entirely too much about what the other Olympians would think if he lost her.

There’s also a part of him that lingers on the way she looked in the dream. He remembers that conversation because it actually happened. But, he’s not sure if he’s actually remembering the way she looked or the way he felt a tightness to his chest. That could just as easily be him looking back on the interaction through a different lens. There are so many things he wishes he could go back and change with her. So many things he wishes he could say. Mostly, even though he loved her more than he even loved himself, he wishes he could go back and give her the chance to walk away. To leave him without any sort of reprisal from the other Olympians.

After all these years, he regrets how their relationship went. It wasn’t love when someone didn’t have options. He knows that he can’t change the past. He knows that he can’t even ask for forgiveness. It’s part of why he keeps himself from getting too close to anyone now, he thinks. As a sort of penance for forcing the only one he ever loved into a marriage that he can’t say that she wanted. Of course, she told him when she came back it was because she wanted to. Insisted that she was just nervous to be thrust into such a spotlight by his side. Says that she was worried because he had other relationships with other people and she saw how it affected other Olympians, like Hera with Zeus. That wasn’t who she ever wanted to turn into. Chan took her at what she said. It was only after he lost her that he realized it may not have been the truth. Their love may not have been the great story that he created in his head.

He knows that he won’t be able to fall back to sleep, so he resigns himself to starting his day. After he gets ready, he sits down with a cup of coffee and his schedule for the aquarium. Today is the once per month visit from the local marine veterinarians. Although miraculously, it seems the animals never need much care, the vets still come in every month. They collect samples and run their tests to ensure that everything is going well as a general health study. They have staff that come over more frequently for some of the animals that need more consistent care. It’s also an excellent place to study since Chan allows them such complete access.

That monthly visit isn’t what really catches his eye. Your name is on the schedule and Soonyoung has you listed as the person who will be working with the vets to make sure they have the help they need. It’s standard, really, and Chan knows Soonyoung will be around as well. That man can never ignore a chance to chat with anyone that comes through regularly. Chan also knows that Soonyoung trusts you. There’s just something about your name that sends his stomach lurching without an explanation. Sure, you haven’t exactly been the warmest in the interactions with Chan, but you’re good at the jobs assigned. It’s like there’s something just on the edge of his consciousness about you. Something just out of reach. A connection that he should be able to make and can’t. At least, not yet.

Even though he’s going to be very early, he sets off for the aquarium and tries to shake the feeling that there’s something about you he should see. He’s never been very good when he can’t solve a problem. You may present his most complex puzzle yet.

It’s one of the best days since you first started volunteering at the aquarium. Somehow this is the first time you’ve gotten to see the vets there for a full day and it even makes you extend your own shift. Well, it’s partially influenced by Soonyoung’s offer to buy dinner if you’re still there when he gets finished. Mostly, though, you’re just fascinated watching the vets do their work. It’s interesting to see how willing the animals are to be still for tests and how it seems like they know what to expect. You know that animals are smart and they can learn. There’s something a little different about this, though. Not only do they seem to actually see the veterinarians, but they also actively wait their turns to be seen.

At the end of the day, you’re a little tired and feeling very accomplished at the same time. Maybe all of Soonyoung’s energy is actually infectious because you find that you’re ready to go get dinner with your friend after work. His presence is somehow calming to you even in all of the chaos. Once you make sure everything is done, you change into the spare clothes you have with you. The last thing you want is to smell like fish and whatever else got on you over the course of the day. Then, you go to find your friend.

“Hey, are you ready for dinner?” you ask without realizing that he’s standing with Chan.

“You guys have plans?” Chan asks with curiosity, looking from you back to Soonyoung.

Soonyoung looks incredibly apologetic. “I’m so sorry, but I completely forgot that it’s roomies night in and I can’t skip it because I missed the last one.”

“Oh, that’s fine,” you say quickly and wave it off.

“You should come! We always have a bunch of appetizers and stuff. I can’t remember what movie it is tonight, but it’ll be fun!” he says, as enthusiastic as ever. “I know I offered to buy dinner tonight…”

“I appreciate it, Soonie, but I think I’m just going to get dinner and go home,” you say. “I’m going to hold you to your dinner offer, though.”

“I was actually just about to go get something to eat myself,” Chan interrupts and you narrow your eyes. “I would be happy to get dinner for you as well as a thanks for everything you’ve been doing here.”

“I don’t want to make…” you start, only to have Soonyoung cut across you.

“That’s so nice of you, Chan,” he says and turns to you. “You should go! He’s got the best taste in restaurants. I still think about the last time he took all the staff out.”

“It’s really fine, I can just get something on my way home,” you say.

“I insist,” Chan says with something unreadable on his face. “Please. Let me say thank you for jumping in so completely.”

“Yeah, what reason could you have to say no?” Soonyoung asks with a smirk. That’s the other thing about your new friend. He can be such a shithead when he wants to be. Of course he’s using this to needle you about your dislike of the boss. It comes up at least once every time you’re at the aquarium (and plenty of times when you’re texting outside of work).

You sigh, knowing that there’s no easy way to get out of this. “Okay, let me just get my things and I’ll meet you at the entrance.”

The walk from the aquarium to Chan’s favorite restaurant is outwardly quiet. It’s not entirely uncomfortable to walk in silence with you. Or, it wouldn’t be if your emotions weren’t screaming into the silence. The general annoyance that seems to be present any time Chan is in the same space as you comes through loudest. There’s more now that it’s just the two of you outside of work now, too. He feels a kind of anger and distrust coming off of you along with confusion about why you feel any of these emotions. It takes time to separate that as your own confusion because Chan’s also confused. The two of you barely interact at work and yet your distaste for him rolls off of you in violent waves, like an angry ocean. It’s the only time he’s felt something like this from someone at work. Everyone else seems to like him at the very least. Something about you is very different.

Thankfully, it’s harder for Chan to sense you once you get into the restaurant. It’s a little busier since it’s a weekend, but you still get seated right away. If you’re impressed with how Chan greets the staff like old friends, you don’t show it. Just sit down in the chair and accept the menu with a smile before disappearing behind it. Suddenly, this doesn’t really seem like the best idea. What does it matter if you don’t like him?

“You don’t like me,” Chan announces a second later. He never has been able to let a mystery go unsolved. He’s also always prided himself on being able to work out a puzzle. He tries not to ever be as arrogant as his brother, though.

That makes you peer across the table at him. When he thinks you’re not going to answer, you blurt out: “No, I don’t,” and seem genuinely surprised.

Chan chuckles and looks back at the menu. “At least you admitted it.”

“I really don’t know why I just said that,” you carry on, setting your menu down.

“Is it not true?” Chan asks.

“No,” you say and that makes Chan raise his eyebrows. “I mean, it is true. I don’t really like you. I’m just not sure why…”

“Why you said it? Or why you don’t like me?” he presses.

“Both,” you say with a shrug.

“Can I ask you something?” he wonders.

“You can,” you say. “I’m not gonna promise to answer if I don’t want to.”

“That’s fair,” Chan says with a smile. “Why do you volunteer at the aquarium if you don’t like me?”

“I like to be around the animals,” you say immediately. “I feel at peace.”

“You misunderstood part of what I was asking,” he says. Your eyes are wide. “Why not let me pay you if you don’t like me? You could be making money instead of offering your time for free.”

That actually makes you laugh. Not a fake polite laugh, one of the real laughs he hears when Soonyoung gets you going. It’s a beautiful sound and it instantly reminds Chan of something. Or someone. He’s not really sure beyond wanting to hear it again.

“You’re kind of funny. I’ll give you that,” you concede.

“I’m glad you think so,” he says, eyes still glued to you.

“I don’t know why it doesn’t feel right to take money for working at the aquarium. It just doesn’t,” you shrug. “It’s the first time in my life that I’ve ever really felt like I was where I’m supposed to be and I probably sound crazy saying it. But, I get to the aquarium and my brain gets quiet and it’s like a weight lifts off my chest.”

“You don’t sound crazy,” is all Chan can say for a second.

He’s looking at you differently now and he’s not even concerned if you realize it. It’s like something clicks for him. Like he finally pinpoints what it is about you. Of course he didn’t realize at first. It’s so unbelievably uncommon that he never thought to look. But, there’s no denying it. The way you are around the aquarium, the way you seem to slot in like you’ve been there all along, the way he can read your emotions without trying.

This isn’t your first life. He’s only seen it a handful of times since Olympus fell. The main gods of Olympus, like himself, were able to seek refuge on Earth. Other beings were not so lucky. Many managed one or two reincarnations, but more still just…ceased to exist. It’s something he and some of the others spent a lot of time working through in the beginning. It’s been over two hundred years since Chan came across a reincarnated soul. Yet, here you are. Sitting before him. There’s no mistaking it. Once upon a time, you had been a sea nymph in Olympus. Everything clicks into place when he acknowledges that. He knows the sea nymphs as well as he knows himself. It seems impossible that he wouldn’t recognize all the signs and mannerisms. Then again, he hasn’t come across a reincarnated sea nymph in a very long time. Centuries.

“Are you okay?” you ask after a few moments.

“Yeah, sorry,” he says and shakes his head. This isn’t the place to try to process this. “I just haven’t met anyone that could relate to the way I feel in a long time.”

“You don’t think I’m crazy?” you ask, voice thick with hope. It’s the first time he’s been around you without feeling any negative emotions.

“Not at all,” he assures you. “I should have known that you understood as well. I felt like you were a kindred spirit, but…”

“I’ve been cold?” you offer with a light laugh.

“Cautious, I would say,” he disagrees.

“Maybe we should just start over,” you suggest and that makes Chan smile.

Dinner actually gets much livelier from there on out. Realizing your past allows Chan to entirely change his approach. Without saying anything before you’re ready, he lets his guard down. In doing so, he hopes that some part of you will realize the connection runs deep. It seems to work, even if it’s only a little. Curiosity becomes the most prominent emotion and he capitalizes on it.

Chan is able to suggest some of the dishes that he really likes before you ask if you can just get a few things and share them. You’re asking questions about the aquarium and his life that he tries to answer in a way that sounds honest without inviting follow up questions. Instead, he finds himself wanting to know more about you. Despite your initial reluctance to talk too much about yourself, he gets you to open up to his questions. Each answer you give draws him in further. Gives more of a glimpse into you as a person. Nothing feels too small to learn. He wants to map each of your reactions to things you actually love to things that seem difficult to speak about.

Before either of you realizes it, it’s been over two hours and the restaurant is starting to wind down. Of course, nobody rushes you since Chan knows everyone there by name. But, you still insist it’s probably best to head out. Surprisingly, he’s still only picking up on warmer emotions from you now and maybe that makes him a little bolder.

“There’s this really great ice cream shop just a little walk that way,” he says as you’re exiting the restaurant.

The sideways look you give him leaves him wondering if he’s misread the situation. Then, you’re smiling like you know a secret. “I’m shocked you eat dessert.”

“Are you…are you checking me out?” he splutters. Very little manages to catch him off guard and you have him stumbling over a simple question.

Without answering, you just laugh and start walking in the direction he indicated. When he doesn’t immediately follow, you look over your shoulder and call out to him. “Well? I thought we were getting ice cream.”

“You can’t just say shit like that and expect…” he starts as he hurries to catch up with you.

“Expect what?” you ask, actually poking out at his side. “I would bet my entire life savings that I’m not the first person to check you out.”

“Oh, so you were checking me out,” he says like he’s just won.

“I think that’s only fair with how many times I’ve already caught you checking me out,” you fire back, effectively wiping the smug look of Chan’s face.

It’s been a long time since someone challenged him the way you seem to. Now that you’re talking openly, it feels like he’s known you for years. There’s a comfort that he can’t remember feeling in centuries. It feels like you just implicitly understand a piece of them that he tries to hide in any other situation.

Something whispers from the back of his mind, like a tickle of familiarity. He ignores it, though, in favor of getting to know the incredibly interesting person before him that doesn’t seem to hate him anymore.

After having dinner with Chan, you start to look forward to your shifts for an entirely different reason. Yes, you still get the peace that comes along with being around so many beautiful animals and so much water. You also get to feel the pleasant shift of feelings when Chan is around. Instead of feeling like something gnaws at your consciousness, now you feel a warmth coursing through your body. It’s a little strange, too, because it’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before.

Soonyoung notices the way you and Chan gravitate towards each other now and says nothing despite the knowing smile. You don’t have to ask him to know that he thinks it’s down to him insisting you get dinner together. He doesn’t comment, though, and you’re not going to give him the satisfaction. It’s hard to stop yourself from smiling, even when that makes Soonyoung smile even harder. It’s like he wants all the details of something that you don’t have many details on. At least, not at first.

Hanging out with Chan outside of the aquarium becomes a regular thing, even on the days that you don’t go in. Each of you shows the other your favorite places in the area and you find yourself looking forward to that time more than anything else. Once or twice, you even consider asking Chan if he’s got a more full time position for you at the aquarium. You don’t quite realize you’re not living fully until something like this happens and so much more of life opens up before you. For now, though, you’ll settle for dragging him to a couple of food trucks that you love. He looks entirely out of place in his slacks and dress shirt, though at least he’s rolled up his sleeves.

“So when are you going to come work with us full time,” he asks after sitting down with his food in front of him. He doesn’t ask you to work for him. Even his phrasing is considerate.

“Oh, well, I…” you stutter out.

“You don’t have to, of course,” he assures you. “I’ve just never met anyone that’s better at it than you and you’re not even there that often”

“I have been considering it,” you admit.

“What’s holding you back?” he asks.

You take a bite to give yourself a minute to think about the answer to that. What is holding you back? Admittedly, you’ve never felt more at ease anywhere else. It’s increasingly harder to leave every time your shift is over. You look forward to when the next one will be. Have even added extra shifts when you can fit them in. There’s a part of you that also looks forward to seeing Chan. Although, you know that you could see him whenever you wanted. He always seems to make time for you.

“I don’t know,” you finally say.

“Well, there’s a position waiting for you if you ever want it,” he says with a look on his face that you can’t quite read.

“Why are you so patient with me?” you ask.

“Because we understand each other,” he answers a little too quickly.

“It’s more than that,” you press, feeling, for the first time, like he’s keeping something from you.

Chan sighs and sets his food down. “It is, but this isn’t the place to discuss it.”

That catches you a little off guard. Thinking that there was more to the story and having him admit it so easily were two different things. “You’re not secretly in love with me or something, are you?”

He laughs at the look on your face and it eases a little of the tension. “I don’t think it’s a secret that I love being around you.”

“No, I guess that’s true,” you say with your own laugh.

“You’re going to think I’m crazy, but I’ll tell you when we finish eating and we can leave. This kind of thing…well, it’s best to say to you somewhere that’s not so out in the open.”

That announcement surprises you, but it also excites you a little. It’s difficult not to rush through dinner, a fact that Chan picks up on and laughs about. Makes a joke about wanting to get him alone that has color rising on your cheeks. There’s an air of confidence about him despite whatever he’s going to share with you. It makes it a little easier for you to also be calm because it can’t be that bad. If it were bad, he would not seem so confident.

After dinner, and a short back and forth, he takes you back to his apartment, which includes walking by the aquarium. Somehow, you’re still much more nervous than he seems to be. It seems like the most natural thing in the world for him to invite you back to see where he lives. He also seems quick to assure you that it’s not that he’s trying to get you alone. It just needs to be a space that is actually private.

Despite any better judgment you may have, your curiosity is piqued. What is it that he has to say to you that others can’t overhear? Is he about to admit some crazy belief? Or tell you that somehow you were destined to meet? You’re not really sure what sort of comment might come once the two of you are alone, but you’re distracted the second you step into his apartment. It’s amazingly decorated. It feels both cozy and modern at the same time. It also feels so impossibly like him and the ocean combined into one. Maybe that’s saying the same thing. He does give you the impression of the water sometimes.

Being inside of Chan’s personal space also feels surprisingly natural. He disappears off into the kitchen without a second thought and allows you to look around the space. When he returns, it’s with a drink for you as he encourages you to take a seat on his couch. It’s the most comfortable couch you’ve ever sat down on.

“How much do you know about the Gods of Olympus?” he asks without any preamble. Thankfully, you haven’t taken a drink yet. Otherwise, you might have spit it out.

“Like the stuff from mythology?” you ask. It’s so unexpected.

A little voice whispers in the back of your head asking if it’s really that unexpected. The truth is: you’ve always been incredibly fascinated by the myths. There’s a draw to them almost to the point of getting lost in them. But, are you going to admit that you’ve read all the books you could find and watched all the shows or movies? It’s only fantasy, really, when you think about it. You’ve bared a lot of your soul to Chan without meaning to. You’re not sure you want him to laugh at you about this. That same little voice comes back to ask if he would laugh. You’re not so sure.

“Not exactly,” he says with a knowing laugh. “You consume it though, don’t you? I can see it on your face.”

“I - well, lots of people do, don’t they?” you ask noncommittally.

“Not like you, I’d bet,” he answers, unbothered.

“I guess it’s a bit of a guilty pleasure,” you finally admit.

“I think it’s more than that,” Chan presses.

“How can it be? They’re just myths after all,” you say.

“Do you believe that?” he asks and it’s like he’s challenging every one of your long held notions.

“Chan, what did you want to tell me?” you ask.

“Let me tell you about Olympus as I remember it,” he says.

“As you…remember it,” you say slowly. “Chan, what…”

“Just hear me out and let me tell you a story. You can decide afterwards if I’m crazy or if it makes everything fall into place,” he says.

And he does tell you a story. It’s a story about the Gods of Olympus with more information thrown in than you’ve ever read in any story or seen in any movie. It’s at once more fantastical and somehow more believable than anything. There are parts that you recognize. Parts that seem to line up with the stories. And there are parts that feel entirely new. Parts that are deeply emotional and clearly difficult for Chan to say. You delight in the way his face lights up when he talks about the parties or living amongst the sea animals. Completely accept it at face value when he tells you about how his scouts used to be dolphins and how much he misses that. Your heart breaks when he talks about the fights with his siblings and the other Olympians. It all feels like you’re walking along beside him in his stories.

It’s insane to think that any of this could be real. You keep telling yourself as you listen to the stories. But, it’s hard to remember that when you see the look on Chan’s face. There’s fondness when he talks about some of the sillier memories. Like he can’t believe that anyone was ever that ridiculous. There’s genuine pain as he tries to get through the more complicated parts. When it comes time to tell you about how Olympus fell, he chokes up.

You believe him. It’s like something shifts and you can tell that he’s not crazy. He’s not delusional. He’s not on some crazy conspiracy theory. He was Poseidon once upon a time. The feelings of calm that you feel every time you walk into the aquarium wash over you. Like this is the only thing that’s ever made sense. That should be a little disorienting to take in all that information. Instead it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

Chan isn’t even done talking when you lean over and press your lips against his. You’re not even sure why you do it or if it’s the right thing to do. When you go to pull away, he puts his hand behind your head and holds you against him. Kisses you breathless like nobody has ever kissed you before. It feels instantly familiar and new all at the same time. Like something you may have done before. But, it also sends sparks flying through your entire body.

“So, should I carry on with telling you how you fit into all of this?” he asks when the two of you break apart from the kiss.

“Me?” you ask, still recovering from the impulsive act of kissing him.

“Yes, you,” he says with a soft smile.

“I’m just a person lucky enough to meet an actual god, what could I…” you start.

“You’re not just a person,” he contradicts with a frown.

“I’m not trying to diminish myself or anything,” you assure him, but he still shakes his head.

“Can I talk?” he asks without any exasperation, though you may deserve it. You just nod. “You’re not just a person. You’re…well, I’m not sure how it works, really. I’ve come across it so infrequently. You have the reincarnated soul of a sea nymph within you. Possibly even one I encountered in another life.”

“How can that be?” you ask with wide eyes. “No, I’m just a normal person, I…”

“If you think about it, it actually makes perfect sense,” he says and carries on.

It sounds so simple when he outlines it for you. He asks you about your connection with the ocean, talks about your instant familiarity with the aquarium and how at peace you feel. Points out that you never feel at peace in a swimming pool, though you’re sure you’ve never said that to him. He talks about your mood shifting when you’re away from the water for too long or the way that everything about the water just seems easier. He even laughs when you admit that once when you were on vacation, a dolphin came right up to you in the ocean and seemed like it wanted your attention. It’s also not the only time something like that happened.

Everything starts to fall into place. It’s like decoding the last little cypher of your life up until that point and showing you memories in a different light. You wonder if you’ll be able to remember anything from being a sea nymph and Chan looks apologetic when he says he doesn’t think it’ll work like that. But, he admits he’s never gotten close enough to another reincarnated soul like this to fully be able to answer it. The excitement drowns out a small voice in the back of your head that’s urging you to move cautiously. Urging you to consider if all of this really sounds right.

You can’t really help the way your bodies seem to be drawn to each other. Many more kisses follow now that the invisible barrier seems broken. When he’s not kissing you, Chan runs his hands along whatever part of you that he can reach.

Eventually, you don’t really want to talk. It seems absentminded, the way that Chan runs his fingers along your arm or squeezes your thigh. It’s driving you insane, though, and you need to know if he’s feeling as bothered as you are.

“How much are you paying attention to this conversation?” you ask.

“Uh…” he says, eyes widening a bit at the question. It’s the first time he’s looked remotely out of control.

“You’re driving me crazy,” you whine and look at his hand gripping your thigh.

That causes his look to change entirely. He’s not out of control anymore. Now he looks a bit smug. “Oh, I’m driving you crazy?”

“Yes,” you admit without a second thought.

“I thought you weren’t even sure if you liked me?” he presses and you huff out a breath.

“I already kissed you, Chan. I think it’s clear I’m not on the fence anymore,” you say.

“Maybe I should show you my bedroom,” he says and stands.

You take his outstretched hand without hesitation. “Finally.”

The two of you get through the doorway into his bedroom and he doesn’t even bother pretending to give you a tour. He only turns around to face you, crowding your space and forcing you back into the doorframe. He takes your face in his hands and kisses you hard. It’s not desperate, it’s perfectly controlled. Nobody has ever kissed you like this before. At least nobody that you can remember. His body presses tight against yours until you’re gasping for breath. Still, he doesn’t let you relax. He’s proving a point. If you thought he was driving you crazy earlier, it’s nothing to this.

You gasp into his mouth when he moves a hand to hitch one of your legs around his hip. Gasp again when he does the same to your other leg and he’s balancing you against the doorframe. It seems impossible that he’s this strong. Maybe that’s part of being a god because he also barely seems to lose his breath as he keeps kissing you. You’re not usually so content to let someone else lead, but it’s so easy with him. It helps that nothing is frantic. Even though he’s driving you crazy, you love that it doesn’t feel rushed. Love that he’s really taking his time with you.

It could be minutes that Chan kisses you or it could be hours and you’re not really sure if you would know the difference. When he sets you down, it feels like an immediate loss. At least until he pulls you towards the bed. Only his eyes give away how badly he wants you. They’re dark with lust that you’re sure your own eyes reflect back at him.

“Is this still okay?” he asks, voice thick with desire. You nod. “I need to hear you say it.”

“Yes, Chan. I want this,” you assure him.

Thankfully it’s the only reassurance that he needs. He gently pushes you back onto his bed and immediately gets to work pulling your clothing off you. His eyes drink in every mark on your body and for the first time, you’re not self conscious. You don’t feel like there’s something wrong with you and it has nothing to do with the way he looks at you. Though, it doesn’t hurt that his desire only grows as he peels your clothing off. No, there’s just this inexplicable comfort with him. That voice in the back of your head quiets. You’re not sure if it’s because you’re so in the moment or because this is actually right. You’re not really sure it matters.

When Chan steps back from you, you have the briefest moment of insecurity. It’s gone the next moment when he starts to undo the buttons on his shirt. Actually, your entire mind goes blank. If Chan was beautiful with clothes on, it’s nothing to seeing him removing his shirt. You know that he can change his appearance at will and know that it’s how he’s fit into places this long. So, you know that it might not be entirely him, but you’re not sure you care. Your eyes travel over the scars he still has. Probably remnants of real scars over the years. Somehow the imperfections make him more perfect in your eyes. You’re so caught up in looking at the scars that you miss him removing the rest of his clothing until he’s approaching you.

“Sit back,” he instructs.

You do as he asks without even thinking twice about it. That, at least, makes a voice stir in the back of your mind. Makes you wonder why you’re so content to do as he asks. When he climbs onto the bed and settles between your legs, the voice goes quiet again. He peppers up your leg and down the other with feather light kisses. He doesn’t draw out the build up, though.

Chan runs a finger carefully through your folds and it makes you shudder. He watches your body carefully as he does it again, like he’s trying to map your reactions to everything. Like he wants to know exactly how to make you come undone. It’s such a simple action that works you up. When he licks into your pussy, you think it’s your new favorite feeling. It makes your entire brain go fuzzy. You don’t even realize that you’re arching your back until one of his hands snakes up your stomach to press you back into place.

It’s almost too much, the way he works you over. He’s constantly changing the pace and his movements. His mouth moves up to suck on your clit and his finger moves down to pump into your pussy in lazy motions. The contrast of the movements makes you squirm. When you feel like you’re getting close to an orgasm, he switches it up again and pulls you back from the edge. Over and over again. He keeps switching up his attention every time you feel yourself getting close.

“Chan, oh my fucking god,” you groan. “I’m going to die if you don’t let me come.”

“Well, you got one thing right,” he says, pulling away from your pussy. “I am a god.”

“I hate you,” you say without any heat.

He pulls himself up your body so that he’s hovering over you, entirely too close. You can see the way your juices cover his lips. He eyes you greedily and it’s the hottest thing in the world. It’s even hotter when he lets you pull him down on top of you and kiss him. You moan into his mouth when he ruts his hard length against your thigh.

When he pulls back, you know that you lost whatever game you’re playing. “Doesn’t seem like you hate me.”

“Just please fuck me,” you say, completely breathless.

“Anything you want,” he says.

You gasp when he leans forward again to capture your lips in a bruising kiss. Everything about him seems so in control. Yet, you can feel how much he wants you, too. It’s obvious that you’re not alone in wanting this and that he’s just better at controlling the situation.

Somehow, as he’s kissing you, he manages to spread your legs apart underneath him. It’s embarrassing the way you chase his lips when he pulls back. Or it would be if you didn’t meet his eyes to see all the desire reflecting back at you. He repositions so that he’s between your legs again and lines himself up at your entrance. Chan runs his tip through your folds while he watches for your reaction. It’s all you can do to stop yourself from wiggling to urge him to work faster. Nothing he does is fast, though, and why would this be any different. Slowly, he presses himself into you. Even as you’re begging him for more, he inches into you instead of snapping his hips forward.

Finally, after what seems like minutes (and is probably only seconds), he’s fully buried and it’s the best feeling in the world. Your fingertips dig into his shoulders as he adjusts his position. Then, he pulls almost all the way about before snapping back in and your mind goes blank again. Like nothing else exists apart from the two of you, the sound of his skin on yours, and the words shared between you. Praise spills from Chan’s lips as you’re just asking for more and more of him.

This time, he doesn’t bring you right to the edge only to pull you back. He picks up his pace and has you coming so hard that you see stars without warning. You’re so thankful that you don’t immediately realize that he doesn’t pull out of you. He stills himself inside you and peppers gentle kisses all over your face as you work through the orgasm.

He’s definitely not so gentle once the aftershocks work through your body.

In one motion, he has you in his arms and in a completely different position. It’s a level of strength and speed you’re not expecting. You’re sitting up now and about to protest that you don’t have the energy to fuck him like this, when he does the work for you. Even though you’re straddling his lap, he plants his feet and thrusts into you. It’s a slightly slower pace than you’re expecting. Just enough that you feel the tension building, but not enough for it to do anything. At least for you. You’re not sure about Chan.

You can’t help it. All you want to do is kiss him so that he knows how good this feels. Not that he really needs more of an indication. You think he can probably read your body pretty well. The first time with someone new is usually awkward. This has been anything but. He knows exactly what you need and just how far he can push you before it’s too much.

And that really does seem true. You’re just about to go into overstimulated territory when he changes the position again. You get the briefest of breaks for him to settle behind you. It could be as innocent as cuddling until he hikes your leg up and presses his length into you without warning.

“Chan, jesus fuck,” you cry out.

“You’re being so good for me, baby,” he coos into your ear. “Can you be good for just a little longer?”

“Yes,” you pant.

“Even if I fuck you hard?” he asks, experimentally picking up his pace.

“Yes, please, just…fuck,” you yell out as he snaps into you harder.

“So perfect,” he murmurs into your skin.

His thrusts immediately get faster and you can tell he’s ready to stop dragging it out. He’s still doing more than his share of the work and it’s insane to realize how much stamina he seems to have. The new angle allows him to hit you deeper than before. You’re already so worked up that it’s not long before he’s pushing you into your second orgasm. This time, he follows right behind you, erratically thrusting as his breath stutters by your ear.

He collapses behind you, but still holds you close against his chest. Your breathing matches his without even thinking about it. Neither one of you really needs to say anything to know that it was something completely unexpected. You can’t remember ever having better sex than with him. Leave it to Chan to ruin you for anyone else that could possibly try to come after him.

Eventually, Chan pulls himself out and off the bed. He holds out his hand to help you into the bathroom with him. You make a joke about how you don’t have another round in you and his smile is instant. His features go soft when he says he just wants to help you clean up.

(That doesn’t hold true for the next morning since he insists you should sleep over. You may be incredibly sore afterwards. You also know that you don’t care. In that moment, you think you would let Chan fuck you senseless for the rest of your life without complaining. Who cares if you’re a little sore? You’ve never felt so connected to someone in your entire life. And he just happens to be one of the gods of Olympus.)

Things seem to fall into place quickly for you and Chan after he shares his past with you. It’s like the last two puzzle pieces in an absurdly complicated puzzle. One of those ones where the pieces aren’t in the standard square shapes. Yet, now that you’re perfectly slotted together, it’s like you’ve been that way your whole lives. The two of you are together more often than you’re not. Late nights exploring or staying up until the early hours of the morning talking. Lazy mornings wrapped up in the covers of the bed (where you actually get Chan to spend more time away from the aquarium than he ever has before). Chan doesn’t even really have time to overthink anything.

His biggest win comes when you finally admit that you’re ready to leave your boring job and come to work at the aquarium full time. That only takes a few weeks after he tells you that you were a sea nymph in a former life. He’s still even a little at the complete lack of pushback on it. You accept it just as easily as you accept that he was Poseidon once upon a time. And you’re not accepting it in the way someone does to pacify a crazy person. That much is clear with how much more time you spend anywhere that Chan is. Somehow, the rest of Chan’s staff doesn’t even seem to comment on how quickly you become inseparable. Soonyoung seems to be smiling even more than usual (a feat Chan didn’t think possible). But, otherwise everyone just accepts the new normal. Everyone seems thrilled to have you around more permanently and that makes Chan’s heart constrict.

He doesn’t have time to think about any of it. Until he does, very suddenly, think about all the feelings you bring up in him.

Chan is careful with relationships. He’s friendly with his staff, but they’re not really friends (despite Soonyoung’s best efforts). He doesn’t get to know anyone at any of the places he shops or have any hobbies where he interacts with people. It can get lonely if Chan thinks too closely about it, but what is the alternative? People’s lives are finite, measurable. Chan’s is not. At least, it hasn’t been yet. There are no signs he’s slowing down over the many centuries he’s been through. Then there’s you. You who are very much human. Though, it’s been a long time since he’s come across another reincarnated Olympian. There isn’t a rule book for how those lives go and there’s never been one that Chan stuck by long enough to find out.

The real question, though, is whether he’s willing to stick around this time to see how it works. Is he willing to risk everything only to figure out that you’re merely a mortal? That you’re going to fall victim, if you’re lucky, to the curse all humans succumb to? That’s if you’re lucky enough to live to old age and something else doesn’t happen before then. Human life is so fragile. It’s a lot to process. More so since he’s not really talking to you about how he’s feeling.

You notice. Of course you notice. Chan starts to get a little more distant as weeks turn into months. He’s still physically present with you and he still tries to act like everything is fine. But, he can feel it in the shift of your moods. Doubt creeps in and he gets snippets of your feelings or even your thoughts. It isn’t fair and he knows that it’s not. He knows he has to talk to you instead of just acting like everything is normal.

“Are you ready to talk to me yet?” you ask one evening when you’re sitting on his couch with your feet in his lap.

He stops scrolling through something on his phone and looks over at you. Somehow, you always seem to know when it’s best to apply just a little pressure. Knows his moods and senses when he’s ready to talk about something. There’s no use in acting like he doesn’t know what you mean.

“It’s nothing you’ve done,” he starts and you smile.

“Oh, I know that,” you assure him. That makes him laugh. It’s you all over.

“It’s just…I don’t usually let myself get close to anyone,” he starts and your eyebrows knit in confusion.

“Bit late for that, isn’t it?” you say with an attempt at a joke, though it doesn’t quite land.

“I think we both know you’re special,” he says quickly to reassure you. “It’s just…well, there’s a reason for that. Human life is so fleeting.”

“Ah, yes,” you say with a wry smile, “because you’re ancient.”

“Enough,” he chastises without any real heat.

“Sorry,” you say and throw up your arms.

“I am kind of ancient, though. Not in this body since I’m always changing forms, but in mind. I’ve been around a long time and you…” he says and trails off.

“You’re so sure I have an expiration date?” you ask.

“You’re human,” he says simply.

“And also have the soul of a reincarnated sea nymph,” you remind him. As if he could ever forget.

“I know,” he concedes. “But I don’t know what that means for your…”

“Life expectancy?” you offer. There’s something almost detached and also calming about the way you say it. “You can’t say for sure that I won’t live beyond a normal human life, either.”

“No, I can’t,” he says. “I’ve never wanted to stick around another reincarnated soul the way I can’t seem to let you out of my sight.”

“Doesn’t that mean it’s worth at least considering?” you ask.

There’s nothing desperate or emotional about the way you approach the conversation. It’s all based in fact and the information in front of you. As much as you and Chan like to go out on dates, you also like to sit with him while he tries to do research. Both of you want to understand what your soul means for the rest of your body. You want to understand why sometimes he can feel your mood or even hear some of your louder thoughts. It’s fun when you can control it and send something disruptive towards Chan. Fun for you, at least. He doesn’t always appreciate the image of what you want to do to him while he’s trying to do something at work.

So, you go through all the knowns with him again. Go over everything that you’ve learned. Go through the questions you have unanswered and where there might be more information. You talk things through logically in a way that feels familiar to him. Chan finds himself getting lost in his amazement at your brain and the way you process information. It’s also incredible to him to watch you work through a problem. It lulls him into a place that he hasn’t been in since…

And that’s when it clicks. That’s when he realizes. You’re not just a reincarnated sea nymph. No, it’s much deeper than that. He knows your soul more intimately than he knows his own. He can’t believe that he didn’t see it right away. Can’t believe he’s had you in his bed for months now without realizing.

“You’re not listening anymore,” you comment. You don’t seem upset, only curious. It’s like you want to know where his mind goes.

“No, I’m sorry,” he says and you wave it off. “It’s just, well, I figured out who you used to be.”

“Uh,” you say, clearly missing a piece. “Yeah? A reincarnated sea nymph? We’ve already covered this.”

“No,” he disagrees. That makes you raise your eyebrows. “Well, you are, but you’re also more than that. Your soul, it’s…”

“What is it, Chan?” you ask, full attention focusing on him.

“I should have known. You feel so familiar, like I’ve known you for years,” he says and it’s like he’s talking to himself. “It’s not just some ordinary sea nymph’s soul…”

“Yes, because sea nymphs are so ordinary,” you say with a scoff. “Like people every day are just coming across sea n-”

“It’s Amphitrite’s soul,” he finishes and that stops you mid sentence. Your eyes lock onto his, wide and wondering.

“Amphitrite? As in Goddess of the sea, most prominent of the sea nymphs and wife of…” she says and can’t seem to finish the sentence.

“Poseidon. The one true love of my life, yes,” he says.

If you think anything of him referring to Amphitrite as the one true love of his life, you don’t say anything. You go into a contemplative silence. Like if you think hard enough, you may be able to remember her or the relationship with Poseidon. Who knows? Maybe you can. Try as he might, Chan can’t seem to think of a single instance where something like this has happened before. Doesn’t remember someone like Hera returning in this way. He also can’t think of any reason why you would return now, after all this time. Unless this is just the first time he’s found you. There are far more questions than answers.

“This…changes things,” you say.

“Does it?” he asks.

“Doesn’t it?” you immediately return.

“I don’t know,” he admits. “It’s like it suddenly makes sense in a way I wasn’t expecting. But, it also feels…more complicated.”

“Complicated, how? I mean, you were in love with Amphitrite and I assume she, or I, was also in love with you,” you say. “Doesn’t that explain this pull we have to each other?”

“Our relationship was incredibly complicated,” he says softly. “I have…many regrets about how I handled things when it came to her. And I also can’t wrap my brain around her reappearing after so many years or what that means for you.”

“Why don’t we just start at the beginning? Tell me about your relationship,” you prompt.

“There are parts that were ugly,” he says without meeting your eye.

The couch shifts and dips as you get closer to him. You lift his chin up gently so he’s looking at you. “The fact that you can admit parts were ugly or that you have regrets shows you’ve learned. So, tell me the whole story and then we’ll go from there.”

So, he starts talking.

It starts at the beginning. He was at a celebration when he saw Amphitrite dancing among the other Nereids, the daughters of Nereus, who was also known as the Old Man of the Sea. There had been other consorts before her, but he was instantly smitten. She symbolized everything beautiful and kind about the sea. Everything that he could ever want. So, he approached her father before ever approaching her and asked for her hand. Her father was, understandably, thrilled. It seemed like there was no better match than to allow Poseidon himself to marry one of his daughters. In hindsight, that was absolutely the wrong way to go about it. She should have been given a say in her own life rather than treated like property by her father and the man who claimed to love her.

Chan talks about what he can remember of their courtship as honestly as he can. From his perspective, everything went wonderfully. After all, why shouldn’t she have been thrilled that he wanted to marry her. Once he had nothing but time to think back on what he had done, he realized that she had not seemed all that interested. It was more like she was going through the motions because she had to. He tried to include her in everything that he could so she would see what her life could be like. Maybe that had been the wrong choice. But, she was a natural when it came to hosting or offering opinions in meetings. At the time, it made him happy to see how well she settled in. Now, it just felt like she had been forced into a life she never wanted.

As the wedding itself got closer, she fled to the far reaches of the ocean. It was a dolphin scout of his that finally managed to find her. He never knew what his scout said to her that made her return. He only knew what he told the scout. They never spoke about it once she came back. She simply returned, assured him she had only been nervous about how important he was, and said she wanted to get married still. So, he also acted like nothing happened, which he knows was as wrong as he could have been. He does think that he tried to be a better partner to her after that, though he’s not sure he succeeded. When he had to make decisions between what might be best for her and what might be best for his position, he chose himself. He also chose the sea over her when he had to make those choices. It was never fair to her.

Somehow, through all of that, he did really grow to love her. He valued her beyond what he showed. He appreciated her for her unfailing kindness and her insistence when she knew she was right. He appreciated her wit and her mind. He appreciated the way that she was never afraid to tell him what she thought or to let him know when he was making the wrong decision. He appreciated that she didn’t just bend over backwards for him or fawn over him. He only realized after she was gone that he never appreciated her the way that she deserved to be appreciated. Once he lost her, he realized that he should have done anything in the world to protect her. He realized he should have given her the entire sea and made her the ruler because she was far smarter than he had realized.

You only listen intently without interrupting. In the few moments where Chan looks at you, he struggles to figure out what you’re thinking. Not that you won’t tell him. He knows you will. It’s just very daunting to speak that long without you interjecting. When he stops speaking, you’re still quiet for a moment.

“I think…Chan, I think I’m starting to remember,” you say with wide eyes.

And that’s the last thing he expects to hear. He figures you may tell him that he’s horrible for putting someone he claims to have loved through that. Or you could say that it sounds far-fetched to think she’s not just a sea nymph, but a specific nymph that he was deeply in love with. He doesn’t expect for you to look at him in wonder and say you’re remembering. That’s another unknown in this entire mess of a situation.

Before he can consider if this is something that should even be possible, your lips crash into his. There are so many emotions behind that kiss that he can’t begin to process. There’s longing and a long-forgotten love. There’s excitement about returned memories. There’s the sparks that always fly between you two. The mix of the established feelings with ones Chan never expected to feel again is startling. So, he just lets his mind wander. He lets the feeling of kissing you consume him so thoroughly that it pushes any other conversation out the window. All that exists in that moment is the two of you, however you want to define that.

The excitement of finding out a long forgotten identity wears off far quicker than you expect it to. Not that you have any frame of reference for this sort of thing. But, surely it should last longer than this. Longer than it takes for you to fall into bed with Chan again. Longer than it takes for him to worship your body as he’s done before and for him to bring you to an orgasm so good it has you screaming. Somehow, in the post-sex haze, he doesn’t realize that you’re quieter than usual. Perhaps that’s a blessing. He kisses you so softly, so sweet and tells you that he’s going to do some research. That’s fine, you insist, because you want to get back home to really get a good night’s sleep. It seems unspoken that he wants to let you process.

But…well, you’re not really sure if you’re still okay with the information. It’s like having sex this time triggered a new flood of memories. Some come across as clearly as if it was something you directly experienced. Others come through more as feelings than anything else. And it’s a lot. Overwhelming in a way that nothing else has been. It’s how you expected to react to finding out that all those myths you were so drawn to were actually real. That feels easy to accept, especially now. Remembering is something else entirely. Because remembering Amphitrite’s experiences as your own just feels complicated.

Maybe it’s wrong to think of her as a separate person if her soul lives within you. That part isn’t hard to accept, not when you can feel it. The hard part is accepting the feelings about Chan. The memory pushes back on you calling him that. Accepting is also the wrong word. The hard part is reconciling the person you’ve gotten to know with the memories that come flooding back.

Then, almost as if on cue, that whispering voice returns. It reminds you of how you felt when you first met Chan. Of the distaste you had without being able to place it. Which is true, isn’t it? You didn’t like him without any reason beyond just a feeling. The voice presses memories onto you. Things you actually experienced with Chan mixed in with scenes between Poseidon and Amphitrite. The more you see, the more it feels like your own memories. Like something that you took part in directly.

It’s putting it mildly to say that things are complicated. There is clear affection there for the person that Amphitrite got to know. Although it’s clear she did not love Poseidon from the beginning, she grew into much stronger feelings. Yet, she can’t separate those fully. She can’t say for sure that the feelings would develop on their own. Did she just love him? Or was it because she, at times, had little contact with anyone outside their palace? Though, that was largely her own choice as things went on. There were too many things to do at home to leave. And there was too much unrest.

Yes, it feels complicated. Now your own memories or the past few months mingle with decades of memories from someone else. You can’t decide if you want to push your own memories aside to make room for the returning ones or keep them side by side. Your new memories don’t really seem to fit, though. Which isn’t surprising. The person you know isn’t the same one that Amphitrite knew. He’s grown in ways that she can scarcely understand or imagine. He’s thoughtful and considerate and much more mature. That doesn’t sit perfectly with the memories. Although, you can tell that there’s a part of the lingering voice that appreciates the growth. Maybe even feels a little responsible for it. Wants to believe that she’s part of the reason he made the changes.

By the time you make it back to your apartment, your head feels like it’s going to split open. You’re no closer to any answers about what you want to do. No closer to reconciling incredibly complex feelings. No closer to the next step. That’s fine, though. All you can really do now is let yourself drift off to sleep and revisit

The morning, unfortunately, doesn’t bring answers. You’re not sure how to approach Chan other than to ask for time to process your feelings. That seems like as good a place to start as any because it’s a lot to take in. He must know that. Surely he’ll understand. Even though you seemingly accepted the news yesterday, it’s a new day today. And your brain is fighting to catch up.

You’re trying to figure out how to approach the conversation with Chan when you make your way through the apartment. A piece of paper by your front door catches your eye and you approach it. You pick up the envelope and recognize the writing on the front of it as Chan’s. There’s something so impossibly him about the gesture. Of course he would write a letter instead of…wait. A moment too late, your brain catches up. Why would Chan be writing you a letter? What changed?

Opening the letter feels close to the last thing you want to do. But, you know that you need to just open it to see what’s going on. See if anything changes.

A lot can change overnight, it seems. Chan fills the letter with apologies for things you can’t even begin to understand. He’s apologizing to you and also to Amphitrite. It seems he got to the conclusion much faster than you, which shouldn’t be surprising. He’s had centuries, apparently, to learn and to spot things others may never notice. That’s especially clear as you read through his letter, now.

Getting past the general apologies, you find more specific apologies. He’s incredibly sorry, but he’s going to be leaving for a while. He knows that it’s not fair to you, but it’s something that he’s got to do. At least he acknowledges that it should ultimately be your decision on how to proceed with the relationship. He can’t let you do that without more answers to his questions. He needs to know how it’s possible for Amphitrite’s soul to have found its way into your body. He needs to understand what that means for your own mortality. It’s selfish, he admits, so incredibly selfish, but he can’t move forward with you, even if that’s what you want, without knowing more. He can’t watch as you age and he doesn’t. Can’t grow to love you more and more only to know you have an expiration date. It’s cold, he knows, to say it that way. It’s also the way he’s going to approach it. The whole letter is filled with apologies and acknowledgements followed by buts.

Chan goes on to say that he’s going looking for his brother, Zeus. He’s the only one that might be able to help them understand what’s happening. The problem is that he hasn’t seen his brother in centuries and doesn’t entirely know how to find him, or if he’s even still surviving. He just has to trust that he’s out there somewhere, going through the same motions as Chan and chugging forward in the only way either of them know how. Somehow this tidbit is a lot to process. Accepting the existence of Poseidon was easy. Maybe that’s because of your own past. Accepting Zeus is something else entirely. Some of that stems from your own disbelief. Most seems to come from Amphitrite’s complicated feelings about her brother-in-law.

Just as you’re about to put the letter down in frustration, you see the postscript. Chan asks you to help his staff look after the aquarium until he returns. He knows that it’s not fair to ask. He knows you may even say no. Your heart tightens at the thought of the animals without Chan. Now that you know who he is, you know that they’ll miss him when he’s not around. You don’t have powers the way he does, though. And it’s his choice to just leave on a whim to chase answers for a relationship that may not even be there when he returns.

Well, two can play this game, you think. It may not be a fully rational thought. It may not even be fair. Before you can overthink it, you send a text to Soonyoung saying that you’ll be out of town for the next few weeks, at least. You just tell him that you have some things to work through and leave it at that. In the meantime, you throw things haphazardly into a suitcase and you’re out the door before even getting a response.

Your letter from Chan stays sitting on your table as you rush out of the apartment without a second thought. All you know is that you’re going to let Amphitrite guide you on a journey of your own to find missing memories before you make any more decisions.

It seems like both of you have a lot to figure out before you see each other next.

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kindred-spirit-93 · 4 months ago

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aahhh tysm!!

YOU. GET. ME. >:D i am so very happy rn lol

i literally have nothing to add this is perfection i love it so so much :')

HOLY FUCKING SHIT THIS IS FANTASTIC WAHT

kinda wanna fuck with a dark solangelo concept where nico's all "i run because i seek the chase" and will's all "i will crush your wings so you cannot fly, break your legs so you cannot run, crack your arms so you cannot crawl. you will always stay by my side". Or something.

#my sense of self preservation grows weaker with every post #i need this intravenously #i will get to it i promise #maybe #good time to share that in my head the way i choose to view the gods is quite (a lot) different than they are in the pj fandom #idk why but the idea of gods who are fucked up in their own ways is more entertaining to me than the censored versions #which is great and needed ig for the target demographic (like having zeus cosplay as anything but the serial offender he is)#or at least downplay it idk ive never read the books #something i like about dieties in (greek) mythology is that they are essentially human when it comes to emotions n stuff #except their influence on nature and sometimes life itself is far far more catastrophic and affect a much bigger scale #idk if i worded this right #i might elaborate later #but yes godly parents are more often thant not totally absent bc theyre probably up to shady shit lol #what im trying to say is that i want to tap into (and see) more flawed gods the way they are in the mythos #are there tag limits i have so much more to say lmao #dark fic #solangelo #dark solangelo #yandere!will solace #<- i will be thinking about this forever #>:)

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livlaughloveluke · 8 months ago

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ᡣ𐭩 𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗳𝘁 𝗽.𝟭

child of dionysus x luke castellan 🍷

IN WHICH… the man you hate just can’t seem to leave you alone

warning! this fic contains- swearing // alcohol mentions // shitty parents // use of y/n // angst // daddy issues! // spoilers to tlt // probably not book accurate // implied sex!! // no actual smut, but definitely heavy illusions to sex (both characters are 18) // loss of virginity // drugs (medicinal) // blood // reader wears a swimsuit?? // reader gender isn’t mentioned i think // mentions of death/drowning // ends on an cliffhanger!!!

[a/n]-we’re just going to say tlt takes place in 2005, so luke and reader will have been born in 1986. also, incase you didn’t know, Hera doesn’t have any demigods, so her cabin is empty :)

part two is in progress, just wanted to put something out until then. also kinda ends on an odd note because it wasn’t intended to be multiple parts

🎧- night shift by lucy dacus

6.6k words (oopsies)

You hated Luke Castellan above all else.

Coming from you, that was a pretty bold statement, considering that you had a fiery hatred for plenty of things. Whether it be people who smacked their gum too loudly or ignorant gods who brushed off their children with no remorse, everything seemed to unwillingly ignite a spark in you. However, someone in particular really seemed to piss you off.

The mere sight of his stupid curls and even stupider scar hadn’t always awakened such a burning rage in you; in fact, he used to do the opposite. He was fourteen when you first met him.

April 13th, 2000

Luke had been placed into the chaos of Cabin 11, the other campers unfazed by a new demigod living with them as they carelessly bumped into his shoulder while playing tag. Old magazines scattered the wood floors, and dust covered the edges of his scrappy bed. With a sigh, he threw his bag onto the floor and escaped the overwhelming sensations provided by his siblings.

The light tour Chiron provided was seemingly useless as he mindlessly waltzed down to the lake, unsure of another quiet space to go to. He performed a quick glance around to ensure he was really alone, and then plopped down onto the rocky shore with a groan. Without his father and now Thalia, he wasn’t sure if he’d survive a night at this bullshit camp.

“You okay?” You emerged from the woods, staring at him with a concerned expression. He jumped slightly, startled by your presence since he literally just checked to see if he was alone. “Oh, uhm, yeah.”

“Wanna talk about it?” You asked, noticing the way his tone was so unconvincing while sitting down next to him and staring out at the view. It wasn’t typical of you to be so welcoming, but you had recently received dessert privileges back after getting them taken away for punching some Aphrodite girl, so a cheery mood was accompanied. He glared at you, slightly annoyed by the way you interrupted his moment of peace. But then again, you weren’t really bothering him, so he figured you could stay. You were also breathtaking, so how could he shoo you away?

“No.” Luke replied honestly after a moment of silence, a slight grimace decorating his features while thinking about his long past.

“Fair. I’m sorry about your friend.” You said, your voice filled with empathy rather than pity as you kept eye contact with the horizon despite the cooling wind that turned your eyes glossy and ruffled your neon orange shirt. “Thanks.” He muttered as the memories flooded his mind, to the point where he had to clench his teeth together so he wouldn’t cry.

“I’m Y/N. Child of Dionysus.” Turning around, you offered a friendly smile until you realized he had his head buried into the crook of his elbow and emitted gentle sniffles. “Oh shit, I’m sorry. Did I say something? I’m trying to work on it, I swear-“

“Does it ever get easier?” He interrupted, although his request came out muffled as he whispered into his skin.

“Well… sorta.”

“Sorta?”

“You get used to the whole Greek God thing, I guess.” You reply, avoiding the question he was clearly implying about his father being present. It wasn’t one you typically liked to talk about, along with most of the other campers with daddy issues. The truth was, you hated the gods for abandoning their children, but speaking out about that would have some brutal consequences. Let’s just say you would lose more than just dessert privileges for a week.

“I’m heading down to the bonfire; you should join.” You said after another long pause of silence, standing up and dusting the particles of sand that had collected on the bottom of your denim shorts.

“Okay.” He stood up, wiping his eyes, and followed you as you hiked through the trees.

“So, why were you stalking me again?” Luke spoke up with a sarcastic tone, stepping over the large tree trunks that had fallen down onto the forest floor.

“Woah, I was not stalking you, newbie.”

“Sure looked like it when you magically appeared out of the woods.”

“Well, I wasn’t, okay? Mind your business.” You snapped, the caring facade slipping away as you stared at him harshly enough to pierce his heart.

“Jeez, sorry.” Luke looked down at his feet, feeling a little guilty for being too pushy with practically a stranger. After seeing his suddenly reserved body language, you stopped the hike and faced him.

“Don’t apologize.”

“What?” His gaze averted back up to meet your cold expression.

“Don’t apologize. I was being a bitch. Stand up for yourself.”

“Uhh..” Luke was now extremely confused, looking around as if this was some sort of prank show with the way you switched up so fast.

“Let’s try again. I’m gonna say the sane thing, and you’re going to stand up for yourself. Kay?”

“I don’t-“ He started, but was quickly interrupted by you.

“Well, I wasn’t, okay? Mind your business.” You repeated from earlier, making your voice sound even ruder as you dramatically exclaimed.

“N-no? Is that what I’m supposed to say?” He questioned, still nervously glancing around and searching for some sort of explanation or another person hiding in the undergrowth to reveal it was a silly joke. You raised your eyebrows in disbelief at his terrible performance, blinking slowly as you scoffed.

“Oh gods. It’s not what you say; it’s how you say it. Be more confident.” Stepping back, you repeated the sentence again. “Well, I wasn’t, okay? Mind your business.”

“No.” Luke said, this time with more pride, although he kept staring at you for a sign of approval. “Good!” You supportively with a grin, turning to continue your walk. And after a sassy eye roll, Luke followed behind.

“Just trying to protect you from the Ares kids. They can be assholes.” You happily explained, a little too cheery for someone who just snapped at him.

“Yeah, okay.”

Luke knew he should be bothered by your interesting behavior. I mean, most would, but deep down, he liked how you were empathetic in such a strange way. It made him feel human, instead of like a tourist attraction that people whispered sweet nothings to and stared at curiously.

“Don’t take anyone’s shit, and soon enough you’ll be swimming in kleos.” You stated, swaying with every step and providing plenty of hand gestures.

“Kleos?”

“Glory. Everyone here is basically fighting to be respected.”

“Oh. Shouldn’t everyone just be respectful?” He obliviously asked, ducking under a low, hanging branch.

“They should, but they aren’t. But with glory, it makes you important. People sit up when you walk in the room; stay out of your way; things like that.”

“Wait, so I just have to stand up for myself, and suddenly I’m all important?”

“Sometimes. Usually, though, you have to major in some skill. Archery, sword fighting, healing, etc. You been claimed yet?”

“Yeah, Hermes.”

“Oh.” You replied, dissatisfaction noticeable.

“Oh??” Luke questioned, offended and sounding a little more rude than he intended.

“It’s not really a bad thing. Just different demigods are usually good at certain stuff. With Hermes, they typically tend to be good liars.”

“What’s your talent?” Luke asked, causing you to go quiet for a minute while thinking.

“Well, I’m really good at poker. That’s about it.”

“You’re a good talker, too.” He said, causing you to shoot him a threatening glare.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, you give decent advice, and you’re pretty welcoming. That’s a plus.” He instantly backtracked.

“Half of the camp would disagree with you on that. Turns out hostility doesn’t get you the best reputation.”

“You’re hostile?” Sure, you may have had a little anger management problem, but hostile? You seemed sweet enough to Luke, at least.

“I don’t talk to all the newbies like this.”

“Then why me?” Luke, from his understanding, wasn’t special. He didn’t stick out. He wasn’t super hot, smart, or funny. He was just average, in his opinion.

“Dunno. Why not?” You said, which wasn’t entirely true. He just seemed different, like he was hiding more beneath the surface. Similar to a puzzle that you needed to solve, except if you didn’t, you’d be burdened with a painful itch of curiosity for the rest of eternity.

“Hm, Fair. But what should I try to achieve kleos?”

“Don’t go for archery or healing; the Apollo kids will smoke you. Maybe sword fighting? I could show you the basics sometime.”

“Sword fighting it is.”

May 21st, 2001

"Where were you during arts and crafts?" You asked while sitting down next to Luke at lunch, clearly irritated by his absence during this morning's activities.

"I was-" He tried to explain, but you had already taken his hands and begun to inspect them, your touch shutting him up. You huffed in annoyance while gently tracing over his callouses and cuts.

"You were training again."

"I just needed more practice. I didn't mean to-" He started, feeling remorse for not showing up, but you were there to quickly interrupt him.

"Save it. I have bandages back at my cabin; let's go. It's the least you can do for leaving me with your siblings all morning." You slammed your hands on the table, standing up and practically dragging Luke to follow you (he would have followed even if you didn't force him).

Once a long distance away from the pavilion, you brought up a topic he wasn't the most comfortable with. "Training to prove yourself?" He swallowed back his anger, not wanting to lash out at you, despite the fact that you could obviously take it.

"Maybe I am. Who cares?"

"I do. Stop caring about the gods so much."

"Easy for you to say. Your father's here." Luke mumbled mockingly under his breath, barely above a whisper, but you heard.

"I'm not sure he even knows my name. He's a drunk dumbass, not exactly great dad material." This shut him up, his gaze traveling to the dirt floor until you reached Cabin 12. Silence and tension filled the air as you opened your backpack, scouring for the gauze and anticipatant. Gripping his wrist with a rage-filled force, you carefully rubbed the Neosporin over the red cuts and wrapped his palms with the stretchy material gifted by an Apollo friend.

"Don't say I don't care about you. You know I do." You whispered, breaking the quiet atmosphere and filling it with fiery love.

"But he doesn't."

"So?"

"He's my father. He should."

"You should stop focusing on what you don't have. Working yourself to the bone won't improve your relationship."

He didn't respond, not having an argument or a sassy comment whipped up, because you were right. He manufactured this mindset that if he was good enough, if he had glory, Hermes would finally notice him and would finally love him. However, there was always a little voice in the back of his head that made him doubt all of his hopes for a family. You just amplified that voice like a microphone.

"And you left me alone with your brothers. Bleh." You smiled, trying to lighten the mood a little while tying off the first bandage.

"C'mon, they aren't that bad."

"You should have heard how they were talking about Julia from Aphrodite Cabin."

"Ew." He laughed, looking at you while you concentrated on wrapping his last hand. You looked so stunning like this, with your pearly teeth peeking between the skin of your lips and your eyes squinting while focusing on making sure it was perfect. He was truly a dumbass, focusing on the gods while you were right in front of him. "Done." You said while tucking in the end of the gauze. He hinged his hand open and shut a few times to make sure it was sturdy, and of course it was.

"Thank you." Luke praised you, not just for patching him up, but for caring.

"Anytime. Hey, I made you something during arts and crafts." You dug through your plastic junk drawer, clinking around all the junk in search of something specific.

"Hm?"

You snatched up a small beaded necklace from the drawer before extending your hand and showing it to him. It was crumpled up, the flimsy string intertwined with itself and the beads out of order, so he picked the jewelry up and awed at the handmade piece. It was wooden beads painted in deep burgundy paint with your first name spelled out in Greek letters, strung on black elastic.

"It's gorgeous." Was all he could manage to utter out, still starstruck by the thoughtfulness of your gift.

"Thanks. We should probably get back to lunch before it's over." You replied, and for the first time in Luke's year of knowing you, you look flustered. You nervously glanced down at the laces to your shoes and fiddled with your fingers, even swaying from the tips of your toes to the back of your heels.

"Yeah, yeah." He agreed, slipping the necklace on and walking out with you behind him. For the rest of the day, he was all smiles and giggles, with others unsure of why he was in such a good mood. Until the inky night sky swallowed the bright blue light, and nightmares came with it.

Most demigods were prone to the occasional bad dream, but Luke was a frequent victim of Hypnos’ curse. Every other night was filled with images of losing what he loved, but he was too embarrassed to talk to someone about it, so he suffered silently.

That night, the dreams were particularly horrific, to the point where he awoke covered in sweat and probably some tears, too. His mind debated whether or not sneaking out and waking you up was a bad idea, but the thought of staying awake alone in his bed another minute scared him more than any profanity you could throw at him for interrupting your “beauty sleep.”

Tiptoeing silently outside the hot cabin, his heart pounded as he traveled to your room next door. He was still in flannel pajama pants and an old tee shirt with some vintage band plastered on it, the chilling wind erupting goosebumps.

Luckily, your bed was right next to a window, which he promptly (and quietly) tapped on to wake you up. A few groans and twists later, you slid open the glass and gawked at him.

“Luke, what the fuck are you doing?” You whisper-yelled, praying to the gods none of your siblings woke up and started bitching.

“I had a nightmare.”

“You woke me up at two in the morning because you had a nightmare?”

“Please, I just need someone to talk to.” Hearing the desperation and seriousness in his voice, you couldn’t possibly reject him, no matter how tired you were.

“I’ll be out in a second.”

Sliding the window shut, you slipped on some sandals and exited to see Luke, who was standing on the porch.

Walking down the steps with him tracking behind, you waited until you were isolated by the lake to talk. “Everything okay?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been having really bad nightmares lately, and I know that sounds stupid, but I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“Have you tried talking to the Apollo kids? It’s not rare for them to deal with insomnia.”

“Well, no. It’s humiliating. It’s taken me a year to talk to you about it, and you’re my best friend.” Luke skimmed past the term ‘best friend’, unsure if you felt the same. It was stupid; you were definitely his best friend, but what if he wasn’t yours?

“First of all, it’s not. But I don’t mind talking to them. I can say I’m having nightmares, and they’ll probably give me melatonin, and then I can give it to you.”

“You’d do that? Smuggle drugs for me?” He spoke softly, the moonlight enchanting his features.

“Course. You’re my best friend.”

December 27th, 2002

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You yelled at Luke in the empty Hera Cabin, angrier than ever. Word had spread to you like wildfire of a quest Luke had accepted, despite the fact it was a suicide mission.

“Listen-“

“No! You told me you didn’t care about the god’s approval anymore. And now you’re going on some bullshit quest?! You’re a fucking dumbass.”

“I just need one chance to prove myself to him.” He pleaded, begging for you to understand and forgive him, even though he knew you weren’t the “forgive and forget” type. Honestly, he was about 80% sure you were still holding a grudge against him for stealing the dessert off your plate three months ago.

“Why aren’t you happy where you are? You’re the best swordsman at camp in three hundred years; half the girls here are in love with you, and everyone practically worships the ground you walk on!”

“I don’t care about them.”

“Do you not care about me, either?” You spoke softly, which was a dramatic shift from the heated yelling a few seconds ago.

“What? Of course-“ Luke cared about you more than anything— more than himself or any silly god. It wasn’t very far-fetched to assume that he even loved you, although his anxious self would never admit anything of the sort. But this quest was a dream of his, and it wasn’t possible for him to just give it up.

“Whatever. I’m done with your bullshit.” You cut him off and stormed out, leaving him to watch you walk away with an aching pain in his heart. That wound was left open as he set out for his journey that night, along with two other campers who were slightly underqualified.

The quest went to shit the minute they left camp’s solace, with monsters attacking from every direction. However, he and his companions were able to make it to the guarded tree with only a few minor injuries.

Until Luke reached for the golden apple and was sliced by the dragon who protected the fruit. Blood gushed out of the cut that decorated his eye as he stumbled away. The loss of blood and shock caught up to him, and eventually he lay in the arms of his friends, fading in and out of consciousness.

The idea that your life flashes before your eyes when you're near death is indeed true. Memories of previous years flooded his brain, from his childhood to his teen years (which mainly consisted of you). As the light faded away, all he could think of was how he never admitted his love to you and how your last interaction with him was an argument.

The next time he awoke, he was in the camp infirmary, dazed as he slowly blinked the sleep away from his eyes. The teenage nurses yelled at him as he slowly stood up and deliriously walked outside, but he couldn’t care less. He just wanted to see you and apologize. His near-death experience was a wake-up call, a sign that what he was feeling towards you wasn’t just friendly admiration.

Luckily for him, you were waiting for him outside, sitting on a wood bench as you anxiously bounced your leg. As he stumbled out the door, you immediately stood up and rushed towards his weak body. What caught him off guard was the way you hugged him instantly, wrapping your arms around his torso while burying your head in his chest. For the first time in days, you were able to breathe, inhaling his musky scent rapidly. The fight had taken a toll on you. You lied awake at every night scared out of your mind that he would die hating you.

“I’m so, so sorry. I shouldn’t have said those things, I was just angry at you for leaving me, but-” You rammbled into the cloth of his shirt, the vibrations on his skin making his heart flutter.

“Don’t apologize.” He said with a loopy smile, making you laugh with relief while remembering the first time you met. His original plan of confessing his love to you the moment he woke up with a dramatic spiel was immediately thrown in the trash as he looked at you from above. The worries of ruining this magical friendship you had spent two years building overtook the joys of the possibility that a new relationship would blossom. So for now, he was comfortable being friends with you. Best friends.

The stares from others went unnoticed, Luke too enchanted by your warming touch to see the way others gawked at him from afar, like he was a monster. Not until the next day, when he wasn’t drugged, at least.

When he looked in the crowded bathroom mirror the next morning after plenty of rest, it almost scared him. His gash was a beaming red with dried maroon blood on the edges and a violet hue discoloring the nearby skin. Swallowing nervously, he did his best to clean it up with warm water before rushing to the picnic tables for breakfast, where you sat munching on cereal.

“You’re the most brutally honest person I know. How bad is it? Like, can I even show my face anymore?” He blurted out, causing you to glance up with a slight panic. After a few seconds of consideration, you replied.

“It makes you look badass.”

“Are you sure?”

“Definitely. Go get something to eat and come back to talk to me.” Luke responded with a nod, heading off to grab a quick breakfast. With a tray of pancakes in his hand, he returned and sat down across from you.

“So?” You waited eagerly for some explanation of his trip.

“It went like shit. You’re right, I’m not good enough.”

“Woah, I never said that.”

“You implied it.”

“That’s not what I meant. I meant you shouldn’t rely on your successes or failures to determine your worth.”

“Same thing.” He retorted with a scowl, stuffing his mouth with food.

“Not even close. So, what’d you learn?”

“That I need to train harder.”

“Holy shit, you are a dumbass.” You said with a long blink and a theatrical sigh.

“Can we talk about something else?”

“Sure. How’s Annabeth?” Annabeth and you were always so different, but somehow that made you closer. She spent her hours strategizing and acting like an adult, and you spent yours playing games and wishing you were younger. Regardless, she was like a little sister to you.

“She’s… like usual.” Luke replied with a crinkle of his lips.

“Mm, so she’s still forcing herself to be an adult at nine?”

“Yeah, just about.”

“We should get her to play poker with us one night. Help loosen her up a little.”

“Not a chance.”

March 19th, 2003

You and Luke stood side by side, anxiously waiting for Capture the Flag to start, while Chiron yapped about the rules. You’d already heard the whole spiel of instructions multiple times, so naturally you grew bored, and your mind wandered off to the boy beside you.

He looked like a true warrior, with his pointy metal helmet that somehow sharpened his features. Over the past few summers, he had grown significantly, and the puff on his cheeks had thinned out. Needless to say, he wasn’t short of admirers.

You painfully watched as hundreds of girls fawned over him and even began to dread getting ready in the bathroom because of how many praises were thrown at him.

Luke sensed your annoyance from afar, although it wasn’t hard to notice by the way you scowled every time someone approached him with a new compliment. However, he thought you were just envious of the praise he received. In reality, you felt threatened, like someone would steal your spot in your best-friend-who-sometimes-flirt-with-each-other relationship with him. He would never let it happen though, even if you weren’t aware.

“Let the games begin!” Chiron yelled, snapping you out of your daydreaming session.

“You take the east side of the forest, I take the west, we meet up in the middle, right?” You wanted to confirm the Athena cabin’s strategy with him, to which he replied with a quick nod.

“Mhm. See you on the flip side.”

“See you on the flip side, Castellan.” You both turned to the different small groups that you were leading, setting out on foot to start your plan.

Annabeth and a few other geniuses had spent the past two weeks carefully crafting a flawless plan for today’s Capture the Flag game. You and Luke would attack, traveling into their side of the woods, while the rest would defend.

While you might not have been the best swordsman, you were a master of trickery and deception and decent at fist fighting. Plus, you had a solid team backing you up.

“So basically, we just need to fight some of the red team and then meet up with Luke and his group in the middle. Kay?” You instructed to your acquaintances, who diligently followed behind you as you hiked through the evergreen trees, until you saw a few of the other team lurking around. With a surprise attack, you were able to defeat them, with little of your squad lost in the process.

You kept on trekking through the dark depths of the forest before spotting some of the best members of the red team, specifically Sam from Ares cabin.

They were the biggest asshole around, and extremely cocky for someone who was the second-best sword fighter in camp. Plus, they were always trying to get in your pants, along with every other counselor who was old enough. To be frank, they were super hot, but you weren’t interested in anyone currently. Well, anyone who wasn’t Luke Castellan.

Knowing you wouldn’t win this battle, you shuffled to the bushes and silently watched while thinking of a good plan.

“Nice try. Up. Slowly.” Sam said unexpectedly, causing you to sigh with frustration and calmly stand up, along with your teammates.

“So, you can either give up now and save yourself the trouble, or we can do the whole fighting thing and eliminate you that way. Your choice.” They stated with a smile, only egging you on.

“What a little bundle of joy you are.”

“Hm, okay, fighting it is.” They sliced for your stomach, the metal of their blade clinking with the iron of your breastplate. You were stunned at first, but immediately charged back while his goons attacked your friends.

The sound of swords slicing and heavy grunts filled the woods, alerting Luke, who was a decent distance away. Most of his teammates had been eliminated, so now it was just him and one other member. He lightly jogged to the scene, not caring too much.

Meanwhile, your group was putting up a solid fight, but so were they. You clashed swords relentlessly with Sam, while your teammates suffered a bloody battle. In a mere minute, all of your team had surrendered, but so had all of Sam’s team.

With every second that passed, your efforts got messier and energy your got lower, and it was apparent this wasn’t going to be your victory. With one clean slice, Sam nicked your arm violently, and you let out a scream in response. Unbeknownst to you, Luke heard your pain and panicked, changing his pace from a careless jog to a speedy sprint. His partner yelled at him, confused, but Luke just kept going, despite his muscles that ached like fire.

You grew exhausted, now just weakly defending yourself from every attack. Seeing how unfocused you became, Sam took this opportunity to swipe your feet with his leg and send you tumbling to the ground, disarming you in the process.

Both panting heavily, they shakily brought the blade to your neck and stepped on your torso to prevent less squirming.

“You’d be a lot hotter if you weren’t such a bitch.” They said, and before you could come up with a witty reply, Luke had charged from behind. Slicing at Sam with adrenaline-fueled anger, he instantly knocked them down to the floor.

“Don’t ever talk to them like that again, or I’ll seriously fuck you up. Okay?”

“Okay, Jesus! What are you, their boyfriend or something?”

Luke wasn’t sure how to reply, so he didn’t. Was this too protective of him? No, he was just helping a friend. Right?

“Just say you surrender already.” He mustered up.

“Fine, I surrender.” Sam mumbled, and Luke took his sword away while they fled. Then, he turned to you, who was watching the whole thing from the floor.

“Holy shit, thank you.”

“Anytime, sweetheart. They hurt you?” He replied with a grin, helping you up with his right hand.

“Nothing bad.” You responded, twisting your arm to get a glance at the cut. He winced with empathy while grabbing your wrist so he could get a better glance.

“Ouch. Go to the infirmary. It’s bleeding a lot.”

“Whatever. Go get the flag, trooper.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice. With a sly salute, you both headed your separate ways. Luke had a pep in his step as he jogged to the bright flag, forgetting all about his partner, who was somewhere in the trees far behind him.

You headed to the nurse, getting it cleaned and patched up easily before setting off to the lake. Sitting on a pointy rock, you waited mindlessly for this stretched-out game to end. Technically you were still in, but your match with Sam was enough fighting for the day.

Luckily, you didn’t have to wait long, because Luke emerged from the forest a few minutes later carrying a gleaming red flag with pride.

Standing up, you cheered with excitement as you ran up to him, squealing like a little girl. He stopped in front of you and dug the pole into the rocky shore with a grin. Still in awe, all you could manage out was a toothy smile in reply.

“Congrats, Castellan.”

“Eh, it was no big deal.” He joked, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“Whatever. Bonfire tonight!!” You laughed and made sure to yell out the last sentence for all of your teammates, who whooped with glee.

When the sun drifted down the horizon that night, you and dozens of campers headed down to the shore, where a sparking fire raged. The flames danced as you sat around, scattered on different logs. You currently sat on the floor next to Luke while he sat on the wood, leaning your back against the dead tree and ever-so-slightly brushing up against his legs.

Everyone had noticed your change in attitude over the last few years. You seemed bubblier and more happy because, well, you were. Falling in love with someone who had a chance of reciprocating feelings was heaven. Every long stare from across the room and gentle touch made your skin crawl with adoration. Maybe you should tell him. But why ruin everything?

As the night stretched on and the violet sky dissipated into a jet black that was freckled with stars, you grew sleepier. And after the third yawn in only ten minutes, you decided it was time to hit the hay.

“Okay, I’m calling it quits. Night guys!” You stood up before turning to Luke.

“Goodnight, Luke.” You whispered in such a caring tone that he felt shivers down his spine. Speechless, he watched with hearts in his eyes as you walked away.

“At least try and be discreet.” One of his friends laughed as soon as your figure went unseen.

August 2nd, 2004

“Absolutely not. No way!” Annabeth yelled at you.

You, Luke, and her all sat on the floor of Cabin 12 playing Uno because apparently gambling “isn’t appropriate for an eleven-year-old.” The problem was that you liked to make up your own rules, while Annabeth strictly stuck to what was written in the instructions.

“Beth, everyone plays this way! Just take your six!”

“If your friends jumped off a cliff, would you?” She gave you her signature death stare.

“What are you, my mom? Luke, what’s your opinion?”

“Do not drag me into this.”

“I quit. I’m heading down to the lake, you guys wanna come?” You stated, slamming your mountain of red cards onto the floor and jumping up to search for a bathing suit in your dresser.

“I have archery training.” Annabeth said, grabbing her stuff and walking out.

“I’ll go.” Luke replied a little too eagerly.

“Okay. Meet me at the docks in ten?”

“Sure.” Using his bandaged palms to push off the wood floor, he left to go change.

Slipping into your black swimsuit, you threw a baggy shirt over it and skipped down to the shore, where Luke was waiting with his feet in the icy water.

“Hey.” You alerted him of your presence while sliding off your cover and tossing it down beside you. His breath hitched, and he couldn’t help but gawk at the slivers of your exposed skin. Nervously swallowing, he weakly replied. “H-hey.”

Ignoring the way he stuttered and stared, you jumped into the cool lake. The blue water engulfed you in a refreshing embrace, rolling off your skin as you emerged from the surface.

“I’ll race you to that buoy over there.” You pointed to the white float that bobbled up and down.

“Deal. Winner gets loser’s dessert for a week.”

“Deal.” You took off before he was even in the water, pushing off of the wood dock to accelerate forward.

“Cheater!” Luke yelled playfully before jumping in and following your path.

Eventually, he caught up and even reached the buoy first, grinning triumphantly as you paddled towards him.

“I hate you.” You mumbled, but the beaming smile plastered on your face told another story.

“Fine, you can keep your dessert privileges, but I still want bragging rights.” He offered, not caring a smidge about anything but making you happy.

“Gods, you’re such a good person.” You said, knowing you would have taken his food and flaunted on him for the next seven days.

“Race you back?”

“Fuck no. I’m tired.”

“I’ll carry you. The waters not too deep; you can sit on my shoulders while I walk.”

“You’ll drown.”

“I’m pretty ripped; I think I can manage carrying you one hundred yards.” He jokingly replied with a flex of his bicep, which was definitely appreciated by your wandering eyes.

“Sure. I’m not saving you if you do end up drowning, though.” You climbed onto his shoulders, and he gripped your calfs to help stabilize you and because he really just wanted an excuse to touch you.

“That’s a pretty badass way to die.” He said while trailing through the fresh liquid.

“To die while swimming through five-foot-deep waters?”

“Well, not when you phrase it like that.”

“How would you phrase it?”

“Glorious hero meets his fate at the lake with another counselor’s thighs wrapped around his head.”

You both froze with shock when he uttered his suggestive remark, even Luke not realizing his mistake until after. He felt his cheeks go hot and nervously tried to apologize for making you feel uncomfortable.

“Oh my gods, I swear I did not mean-“

You cut him off with a deep and angelic laugh, clearly not hurt by his poor choice of words.

“You’re a dumbass.” You choked out through heavy giggles, and he instantly relaxed upon realizing you didn’t think he was a complete pervert. Every laugh you released was like a weight off of his shoulders, and that was when he knew he could not shove his feelings down anymore.

Hours had passed, and you two ended up watching the sun fall by the lake while sharing a cherry red and white striped blanket. Not a word was whispered as you rested your head against his shoulder, his curls dripping onto your skin. He couldn’t help but smile as he felt your slow inhalation of the crisp air.

Once night arrived and the cicadas started chirping, it was finally time to break the comforting silence.

“I’m gonna go shower.” You said while slowly standing up and letting the towel drape off of your body.

“Me too.” Luke replied, getting up and placing the towel back on your shoulders so you wouldn’t have to brace the chilling breeze in a swimsuit. As you walked away, he couldn’t help but stare.

“Wait, I need to talk to you once you’re done. Meet me in the Hera Cabin after we’ve showered?” He called out after you, to which you nodded in response.

He needed to confess how he felt about you immediately, or his chest might actually explode. He needed to tell you about how his heart raced every time your touch lingered a second too long, how he ranted to Annabeth every night about the things you did that made him swoon, and how he was madly, head over heels, in love with you.

Once the musk of lake water had fully washed off, you headed to the infamous empty cabin, where Luke was waiting. His hair was still wet from the shower, causing his curls to separate, and he fidgeted with his fingertips while anxiously waiting for your arrival.

“You okay, Castellan?”

“No, I’m not, actually. I need to tell you something, like right now.” He stuttered out, his lip crunched up like he was in pain.

“You’re scaring me a little, but I’m all ears.”

“I love you.” Luke blurted out, the tension in the air increasing significantly with just three words.

“What?” It seemed as if the world had stopped, even the birds quieting down for a listen.

“I’m in love with you.” He repeated, like it was no big deal, like it was second nature.

“You love me?” You whispered out, almost like it was unheard for you to be loved.

“More than anything.”

You swallowed, thinking for a second while he awaited a response.

“I love you too.”

With the conformation of your words, he leaned in until the tips of his nose rubbed against yours. His lust-coated eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips, making it apparent what he wanted. Luke breathed in your fresh scent heavily while watching and waiting for a reaction—for you to pull away or do something.

Trailing a hand up into his hair, you delicately pushed his head until your lips met. His skin was honey-sweet as you gingerly kissed; it looked like something out of a romance movie. He forced himself to be a gentleman and pull apart after a few seconds, no matter how much he wanted to kiss you until his oxygen ran out.

Looking up into his eyes, you craved more. This built-up tension between you two was finally erupting, and it needed more than just a little kiss to be satisfied. So, you took charge and feverishly leaned in for more.

His hands cusped your cheek, carefully avoiding any boundaries you might have set up. That was until you snagged his bottom lip with your teeth, and he lost all self-control. The sweet kisses turned into a full-blown make-out session as he steadily snaked his hand down your torso and to the fat of your ass.

Only breaking for air when absolutely necessary, passion filled the atmosphere, along with hushed moans from the both of you. Luke warily trailed his hand upwards to your chest, and you could tell where this was heading. Panting, you removed your lips from his and spoke up.

“I’ve never.. I’m still…”

“Me too. Do you.. still want to?” He revealed, his heart racing while still daintily grazing your skin.

“Yes. Please.” You desperately nodded, like death was approaching if you didn’t continue. With that, he laid you down on the squeaky mattress of an unused bunk bed and hovered over.

“Gods, you look stunning.”

୨୧

part two in progress…

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