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norbah · 5 years ago

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Huitzilopochtli

-Saber (5*)

The proud Aztec god of war and the sun, Huitzilopochtli was born armed and ready for battle. The serpent of flame, Xiuhcoatl, was his weapon. His first action was the wholesale slaughter of his 400 brothers and dismemberment of his sister Coyolxauhqui in defense of his mother. Although he is technically a Pseudoservant, his face is not a familiar one, as he inhabits the body of a particularly worthy Mexica warrior. He does not tolerate weaklings as his Master, and one would be well advised to pull their weight and prove their worth as a warrior early on, lest the violent deity withdraw his favor and support.

Huitzilopochtli is particularly difficult to get along with at first. Mages remind him uncomfortably of Tezcatlipoca, the Aztec god of night, and thus his relationship with his Master will be automatically on the wrong foot from the start. He respects strength and valor, and rankles at cowards and cheats. He revels in violence and has little patience for activities unrelated to combat, meaning training is one of the few ways to bond with him.

Huitzilopochtli is brimming with raw power, and believes in honorable combat, although he finds the idea of giving his opponent a choice in the matter laughable. If Huitzilopochtli wishes to fight you, there’s not much you can do to avoid it. He is vulnerable to ambushes and assassinations, and it is no exaggeration to say his weakest point is his Master. The low respect he has for mages as a whole means he is unlikely to protect them at first. Indeed, if he finds them to be cowardly or spineless, he is perfectly willing to stand back and watch them be killed, as defeat is preferable to cowardice. Unlike his brother Quetzalcoatl, Huitzilopochtli loves only the strong among humanity, and will expect his Master to personally take the life of at least one other Master during the Grail War.

However, he is no mindless Berserker, and relishes the use of strategy against his enemies. If one can prove to him that their mind is sharp and well-versed in the art of tactics, he will quickly grow to respect his partner, and may even waive his demands for actual combat from them. It would be a good idea to avoid suggesting an assassination or underhanded tactics to him, however. The memories of what the deceitful Spaniards did to his people still make him bristle with blazing rage.

He burns through mana at an alarming rate, and unless one has enough in reserve, he is likely to go find a worthy sacrifice, or worse still, demand that his Master provide one for him. He will not select civilians, not out of concern for justice or discretion, or even mercy, but because he wishes only for warriors as sacrifices to himself. Anything less is unworthy.

In the context of the Grand Order, the chief god of Mesoamerica is easier to handle. Being surrounded with mighty warriors from across all ages and nations, he is quite enamored with the concept of testing himself against them. To his delight, there are many capable of holding their own against him, even if for a short while. He also has a secret soft spot for mothers, and will go out of his way to assist them if he can.

Inevitably, he will come to respect the last Master of Chaldea, as their struggles against insurmountable odds speak of true valor and strength of spirit. Indeed, he will go as far as to refer to them affectionately as “Tlatoani” after a while.

All in all, Huitzilopochtli is proud, stubborn, violent, and difficult. But should you earn his trust, there is no ally more steadfast and fierce you could find than the Fifth Sun.

ACTIVE SKILLS

Charisma B+

Although Huitzilopochtli and his people were the dominant culture of Mesoamerica, they did not reach this summit through diplomacy, but rather coercion and fear. Other tribes obeyed them only until somebody crueler than the Aztecs came along and offered to depose them.

----Increases all allies’ Atk.

Lake Texcoco

Huitzilopochtli could be an unreasonable deity, but he could also be a guiding hand. Through the augury of an eagle devouring a snake atop a prickly pear, he led his people from the mythical Aztlan to what would one day be Tenochtitlan: an island in a lake, infested with venomous snakes. The surrounding tribes gifted the island to the Mexica people, expecting them to die. But the Mexica ate the snakes, and claimed the island for their own.

----Increases allies’ Atk and Def. (3 turns)

----All allies gain Debuff Resist (3 times)

Blue Hummingbird EX

This skill is an embodiment of his nature as the bloodthirsty chief of the gods. As the sun, he gave life to all beings on earth. He demands blood in return, that he may be strong enough to hold back the eternal night. As his allies are spirits much like himself, he does not take their hearts as tribute, but rather drinks from them without taking their lives.

----An ally of your choosing loses 50% of their remaining health

----Increases own Buster strength depending on how much health was taken from ally (3 turns)

----Extra effect if NP is used (1 turn)

NOBLE PHANTASM

Name: Tonatiuh

Rank: A+

Class: Buster

Type: Anti-Army

“I am Light. I am War. I am he who holds the Moon and Stars at bay. Gaze now upon me as I am reborn from the Southeast. I am the Fifth Sun—- TONATIUH!”

As the dual deity of war and the sun, Huitzilopochtli displays unbridled power that few can rival. In Aztec myth, he is our current sun, and his power is what keeps the moon and stars from descending upon the Earth and devouring all living on it. This power grows as he is fed the blood and hearts of captured warriors, or even allies deemed worthy of this honor. This Noble Phantasm manifests this legend by transforming into the Solar Disc, Tonatiuh, and unleashing his might towards the surrounding area. Those blessed by him will feel the warmth of the sun on their skin and the strength of their allies at their side, giving them the spirit to fight more fiercely, while those who stand against him will feel the devastating power of the Sun in its most bloodthirsty and violent form.

----Deals significant damage to all enemies

----Increase Atk for all allies. (3 turns)

----Stuns Self for 3 turns (Demerit)

----If under the effect of Blue Hummingbird EX, Huitzilopochtli is not stunned. Instead, increase Atk by fraction of HP taken as tribute. (Effect increases with Overcharge. 100% is an increase by 50% of the tribute. 200% is an increase by 75%. So on.)

Additional quotes for other Servants: -Quetzalcoatl: “Quetzalcoatl, my brother! It has been too long! ... You... seem different than I remember you. ... Did you do something with your hair? And do you know what happened to my Piedra del Sol?” He still holds Quetzalcoatl in high regard, as one of the few siblings who aided him in defending their mother, Coatlicue against Coyolxauhqui. As such, Quetz is one of the very few people you will catch Huitz being affectionate with... and is, in fact, the only Servant capable of calling him Huitz without starting a fight. -Jaguar Man: “I see you in there, Tepeyollotl. You think you can hide behind this woman, but I know you’re in there. ... Eh? You evicted him? You evicted the Heart of the Mountain? ... I would not have liked to be in his place. You have my respect.” Huitzilopochtli respects but mistrusts Tezcatlipoca and all his avatars. To find that this woman was willful enough to turn the tables on the Smoking Mirror is a very welcome surprise, but he will keep an eye on her nonetheless. -Karna: “You there, spearman. Stop for a moment. Something links us. I can feel it. ... Ah. I understand now. ... You are a capable warrior, I see. Would you join me in the sparring ring? I would like to know you better. We are practically family, after all.” He sees Karna as a nephew of sorts, being the son and incarnation of another sun god, albeit a much less violent one. Challenging Karna to brutal fights is his equivalent of playing catch with the demigod. -Leonidas: “You are not Mexica, are you? No. Your weaponry and armor, it is too different. But I see it in your eyes; that same sliver of the sun that burned in my warriors. Please, grant me the honor of joining me in a spar.” He simply recognizes a man who may have been an Eagle Knight or even a Tlatoani, had he been born in a different time and place. He goes all out against Leonidas as a sign of respect, and is delighted to discover just how strong and durable the Spartan is. -Tiamom: “I... Mother? Mother, is that you? ... No. No, not quite. You feel like her, and I hear her in your voice, but you’re much gentler. Yet... somehow, it feels like you’re... I’m so confused.” This is where Huitz is the most vulnerable. He is dearly fond of his mother, and sees much of her in the Foreigner Tiamat. Both are mother goddesses, greatly associated with the earth and with serpents, and both were turned on by their own children. Huitz can't help but feel protective of Tiamat, and subtly tries to make her proud of him. It is a good thing she can look after herself. If his new surrogate mother were threatened, there's no telling how much carnage Huitz would cause in his desire to protect her. -Artemis: “A moon goddess? Pah. More trouble than they’re worth, the lot of them. Watch your back, Master, lest you find a dagger in it.” Self explanatory. Huitzilopochtli feels great distaste for moon goddesses, and would see no problem in getting rid of all of them to avoid a potential Coyolxauqui 2.0.

#fgo #fanservant #huitzilopochtli #dammit all i caved and made one of these #actually kinda happy with him but i'm worried his NP might be a bit overpowered #oc

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kyndaris · 5 years ago

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Unseen

I actually posted this first on my FictionPress account. It’s another short story that got a little out of hand but I thought it helped encapsulate the feeling of being overlooked in the busy lives that we lead. Even more difficult was trying to make the language more ‘Americanized’ than I was used to. Here’s hoping I succeeded.

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When I was young, I discovered I had a magic power. This was just after I had entered middle school and everyone had learned about puberty. It was a strange time, sprinkled with talks from teachers about the physical changes that we were expected to go through. From unwanted hair to monthly bleeds to a sizable development in the chest area. That, coupled with hormones and the outbreak of acne, was the general 'teenager' experience with its mixture of angst, confusion and rebellion.

But none of that mattered to me.

I mean, why would it when I could make myself invisible?

For years, I enjoyed the freedom that this power gave me. While others began to excel academically or at sports, I was far too busy trying to concoct the latest pranks. My marks had never been the best and while I could, perhaps toss a ball around if called upon, I was not one to put my hand up for anything competitive. I had seen the injuries sported by some of my friends when they had tried out for football and baseball.

No. My mission in life was to have fun and to annoy the living hell out of those around me. And I was good at it. The best even.

Only once was I caught. Mom was called in. Frazzled from a shift at the diner, her hair still in a messy bun, she had timidly knocked at the entrance when she arrived. I was pouting, desperately trying to mount up a feasible defense that would see mom take my side.

I was fourteen. Desperate, a little, for approval. With mom being so busy and my little sister just starting school, it had been a difficult year. And while I was enjoying my newfound ability, I was also grappling with hormones and mood swings. The one advantage I had over my peers was that I could make it all go away. Whether it was directing my invincibility to only certain parts of my body. Or simply disappearing altogether and finding a quiet place to clear my head of the mountain of thoughts.

The principal, a man of many years, judging from his balding pate the crow's feet at his eyes, had first tried to cajole my mom into enrolling me into one of those fancy boarding schools for troubled children. Over the years, I had made a name for myself as a rabble-rouser. A common disruption in class. And occasional truant.

It was also a well-known fact among the faculty that I had a hand in the mischief that had spoiled the opening night of the Christmas Play the year before. While they could not provide any concrete proof, I had put myself in their sights and any wrongdoing I did – no matter how minute – was scrutinized.

Mom was skeptical.

Of course, she had every right to be. As a single mother with two young daughters, there was hardly any money to purchase new shoes, let alone afford the fees for a private boarding school.

In the end, she chose to keep me in a public school. Though I was 'gifted' individual, she thought it best that I remain with my friends. Familiarity would ground me. That had been her key argument with the principal that day. In her eyes, whatever talents I possessed would flourish regardless of which institution I was in. Besides, there was no telling what I might do if in some boarding school halfway across the country. No. Better to keep me close at hand.

Knowing defeat, the principal relented and gave me a three-day suspension. Mom wasn't pleased. The entire walk to the car was made in complete silence. Nor did she look at me. Even the drive home was heavy with disappointment. When I tried to give my side of the story, she would interrupt with a sigh.

It was the first time that I felt truly and completely alone. Unseen and unheard.

In the summer just before high school, mom met someone. He was an investment banker that wanted more beyond the small town that we lived. Beguiled, perhaps, by his honeyed words, we packed up and moved to Connecticut. By then, I had met him numerous times and he was all but incorporated himself into our family dynamics. Both my sister and mom were enamored.

Mom, because she had a new man. And my sister, because we now had a new dad. One who doted upon her every wish. Only I was a little hesitant about this stranger in our house. Still, if he made mom happy and our lives a little easier, I could live with it.

Besides, it had been a good twelve years since dad had left us for his new family and he had never bothered with child support.

Perhaps I should have seen the signs then but at the time I was starting in a new school without any of my old friends. Having grown out of being the class clown, I was a little unsure of how to ingratiate myself into this new environment where I knew no-one. My grades had never been the best and I was decidedly average when it came to P.E. Nor was I talented at the creative arts.

The only thing special about me was my power of invisibility. But entering high school, I found out that having it was more of a liability than a gift. People were less amazed and more bemused. Everyone had seen it all before. And it didn't help that there were others who also had it attending my school.

I had to redefine who I was. Fast.

In those four years of high school, I was as like a social chameleon as I tried to befriend the numerous clichés. One week I would dye my hair black. The next, I would be trying my hand at a musical instrument. A third week and I would be in the library, desperately looking up a slew of made-up words that I had never heard of before.

Each day, I would come home exhausted. Mom was so busy that she didn't care how late I returned. Besides, with my abilities, there was no telling if I had come home early and had simply refused to leave the bed. Invisibility was both a blessing and a curse.

I often thought that was why Artemis never tried to reach out to me. She knew that I was struggling and had thought not to burden me with all her troubles. Artemis had always been thoughtful like that. And that had been her greatest power. The kindness, patience and resilience she had brought to our dysfunctional family.

When I finally graduated and applied for college, our finances were in the black. With his income, our stepdad could afford to send us to a decent university. It might not have been Ivy League, but it was enough to give me the peace of mind to experiment and try different things. Besides, while I had participated in a range of extracurricular activities, I had never stayed long enough in any of the clubs to positively contribute and my grades were scattershot, at best.

Still, I was able to make the best of it and moved onto campus. It was a day of heartache and exhilaration. We had moved so much but this was the first time I would be 'leaving the nest,' so to speak.

Everything was so new and I felt like I was out of my depth when I found my dorm room and settled myself in.

My roommate was a girl named Lauren. She was only four foot eleven but she could demolish three full servings of steak and could drink a sailor under the table. Lauren, though, was one of those rare honor students. She had a plan already set out before her and woe betide anyone that stood in her way.

Work hard. Play hard.

It had been her motto since the day she was born. Or so she told me.

I liked her from the start but our conflicting schedules meant that I hardly saw her even though we shared a dorm room. On the rare occasion that we both had an afternoon or a morning together, Lauren and I would take our time to explore every nook and cranny on campus. It took a couple of months but we managed to narrow down the café that served the best coffee, as well as an excellent corner in the library where we could stream the latest television shows while we pretended to study our incredibly expensive textbooks.

All of that changed, though, when I received a call from my mum just halfway through term.

Artemis was dead. She had hanged herself yesterday, using one of the beams in the house, some hemp rope that she had bought just for that purpose and a ladder. The funeral was slated for next week. The timing was bad, she knew. What with exams and assignments piling up. Would I be able to attend?

It was an impossible request. Despite my best efforts, each and every lecturer refused to give me the time I needed to go home.

Somehow or other, though, I managed to make the funeral – albeit after all the eulogies and when her body had already been consigned to the flames of the crematorium. It had not been an easy journey. Had it not been for Lauren's cooperation and my own special ability, I might not have been able to achieve even that.

The staff at the university knew about my unique condition. Of how I could turn invisible at the drop of a hat. Back in those early days, I had occasionally suffered bouts where I would remain unseen and unheard for at least a couple of days. For quite some time, I had not used my power and initially, I had thought that my inability to control it as a had during childhood had come from neglect. It had been an easy thing for Lauren to give them excuses and assist, on occasion with the delivery of my essays to the appropriate faculty (which I had to send to her via email even as I snuck on two Greyhound buses just so I could reach home).

I don't remember much of what happened that day or the two days afterwards when I prepared to head back to college. All the memories in my head were like small fleeting snippets. There was a brief argument with mom. During dinner, I threw a glare towards my stepdad when he tried to offer his condolences. Me walking into her room, right before bed, and trying to picture the way she smiled and would look up at me.

But, always, my mind would go to her last moments and I would wonder what had pushed my perfect sister – the youngest and favoured daughter in our household to do what she did. Back in my old room, I slept terribly. Haunted by nightmares that I could never quite recall.

Even when I was finally back on the bus, headed back to college and the ire of my teachers, I struggled to find a rational explanation for why Artemis did what she did. The perfect world I had constructed was slowly beginning to crumble.

It was only during the start of my sophomore year that I finally came to know the reason behind Artemis's suicide. All of it came tumbling out during the messy divorce between my mom and stepdad. Buoyed, perhaps, by having a man in the house with a stable income, mom went back to school to finish the degree that she never completed when pregnant with me. Once all that was done, she successfully landed the job of her dreams.

With all her success urging her on to better things, she was blind to what was happening at home. Her absence provided an opportunity for the predator lurking amongst us. And Artemis being Artemis…well, she kept her lips sealed. Far too terrified to reveal that he had been touching her and ashamed to admit that it had happened.

For years she had silently endured until finally, in her senior year of high school, it had been too much.

I should have been there for me. And I hated that I turned a blind eye to so many of the signs. From the bruises on her upper arm to the way the light had faded from her eyes.

At college, my grades began to fall. I started heading out to frat houses and clubs located close to campus. Just so that I could numb myself to the pain that was tearing me up inside.

It was then that I made my worst mistake. His name was Stephen.

Initially, it had been innocent enough. We met during a class we shared. I thought he was a nice enough and it didn't hurt that he was quite pleasing on the eyes. Stephen was intelligent too and always with his head in a philosophy book or another. Descartes, Socrates, Nietzsche. He had read them all. He could even hold a conversation beyond questioning whether or not we were stuck in the Matrix.

Ever so slowly, I fell for his charm. When he invited me to a house party right after the exam period, I agreed readily.

We danced. We flirted. And then we began to kiss. Flush with alcohol, we stumbled upstairs to find a spare bedroom that was free. But when he started to touch me down there, my mind went back to Artemis. I told him to stop. Yet, he didn't listen.

It wasn't until I was trying to claw out his eyes that he wrestled my arms away and kept me pressed down with his weight. That was when my power triggered. Had I not been able to turn invisible and began shrieking for help, I'm not entirely sure what might have happened that night.

Days afterwards, I still felt violated. It felt as if I had lost a key part of myself.

I think that was when my problems with my power began, although I did not quite notice until halfway through my third year. The fact that my hand had turned transparent without any conscious thought on my part was terrifying. And I couldn't bring it back. That was the worst of it. If I had known…

"Are you still typing?" said a voice close to my ear. It was one I knew intimately and as its owner sidled up close and kissed me sensually against my cheek, I leaned back into his warm embrace. "Won't you come into bed? It's late and I'm feeling a little lonely."

"Just one more paragraph," I said. "Please, Connor? Just one more. This is important."

He nuzzled against me. "Come on, Persephone. Your story can wait. It isn't going to disappear. At least, if you save it."

I reluctantly turned away from the Word document on my laptop and looked up at Connor. He had a point. I had been at it for most of the day. The words did not come easy and it was a struggle just to get them out. Always, I'd find something to distract me after I had written a few paragraphs. Then I'd go back and delete it all before rewriting it again. For two hours, I had followed the exact same formula until I finally decided enough was enough and moved on.

Besides, the prospect of bed sounded good. And Connor was always good to me. He understood me, having suffered through the exact same thing I was now experiencing. Yet he had recovered from fading away. With each passing day, he seemed to become more whole. Whereas I had come to a standstill.

Every morning I would take a look in the mirror and be dismayed that I still appeared ethereal. It didn't help that it was an effort just to have myself heard in my current office job.

To say that I was envious was an understatement.

"Oh, all right," I conceded, hitting both the ctrl button and 's'. Just to be safe, I moved a finger along the touch pad and clicked on the floppy disc shaped icon in the top left. I shut the laptop. "There."

"So, what were you actually writing about?" asked Connor as I stumbled around the bed and finally sidled in beside him.

"My—our story. Doctor Gibson said it was best that I put all my feelings down and see what happens. She said it might help."

He frowned. "Do you really think a psychiatrist like her is going to help understand the intricacies of being gifted, Persephone? She's never had to deal with what we've gone through."

I reached out for his hand and gave it a tight squeeze. The sharp contrast between his tanned skin and my transparency was a stark reminder that all my efforts had, as yet, been for naught. Doctor Gibson had been one of my more recent endeavors to find a solution the problem that still hung over my head. "It's a long shot, I know. But let's give it a month or two before calling it quits, all right?"

Connor didn't like it. He hadn't much liked anything I had done over the last six months to build up my confidence and independence when my condition had partially stabilized after it had nosedived earlier that year. It was as if he feared that if I got better, I would leave him. The thought, in itself, was ludicrous and I wanted to tell him that. Yet, whenever our conversation veered into dangerous waters, he would steer it back towards the safety of land.

And so, instead of agreeing, he pulled me close – enticing me with the promises he had made earlier that night. It was an effective tactic. Before too long, I was swept up by his fervor with the only thought in my head focused on how best to reach that peak again and again.

When I woke up, Connor was gone. His side of the bed was cold. There wasn't even a hint of warmth to indicate that he had been beside me all night. And though I knew he always had an early shift on Mondays, that didn't ease the pang I felt in my heart as I set about getting ready for the day.

Padding into the kitchen, I found a box of cereal on the counter top along with a carton of milk. In the sink was the bowl he had used as well as a mug stained brown with coffee. I ignored my immediate impulse to clean it all up. At the very least, I would delay it until I had my own breakfast.

I grabbed a bagel from the pantry and cut it in half. The two sides were soon quickly smothered in cream and jelly. I delicately placed them on a spare plate and took it with me to the living room. If Connor had been home, he would have disapproved. Though I never quite understood why, he liked to keep each activity relegated to their 'appropriate area.' Food was meant to remain in the kitchen or eaten in the dining room. The living room was meant to entertain guests. To bring a chicken wing, lathered heavily in barbeque sauce would have been blasphemy. Even a biscuit would see his gaze fixed upon each and every crumb that dropped.

"How are you going to remove the stains? Do you know how much it would cost? For God's sake, Persephone, are you even listening to me?"

Without him hovering over my shoulder, I settled down on the sofa and turned on the television. I ate my breakfast with Good Morning America for company.

Some might say it was a little lonely but with no plans for the day, I savored it. Besides, today was my day off. I didn't think it was necessary but Connor encouraged me to do it when my condition had worsened. He said it would be of benefit to my own mental health and I reluctantly conceded the point when I started vanishing before the eyes of my co-workers during an important stakeholder meeting.

I gratefully accepted. By that stage, I was hanging on by a thread and having variable hours meant I could see a specialist without feeling the guilt associated with using up all my sick leave. Still, it had stung to be relegated to part-time work and at first, I floundered with all the additional time I had on my hands. Taking up a hobby that I enjoyed helped alleviate some of that tension and also helped push me back on the path of recovery.

It was nine when I padded back to the kitchen and put my plate into the sink. It would only take me a couple of minutes to wash all the dishes but I decided to put it off until I had finished my daily ablutions. I retreated to the bathroom, picked up my toothbrush and squeezed some paste onto it.

Brushing your teeth while being almost ethereal in appearance was a difficult endeavor. When I was younger, I'd often imagine myself as a vampire. Back then, it was a game. Nowadays, I could barely look at my reflection in the mirror. Today, fortunately, was a good day. But there had been times when my features were so indistinct that I forgot what I even looked like. Was my hair long or short? What color was it? Were my eyes brown or did they border on hazel? Maybe they were blue and I had been deceiving myself for my entire life.

Without being able to see what I looked like it was easy to allow the doubts to creep in. To feel that the most essentials parts that contributed to who I was were being stripped away.

Fuck. When did life become so hard? Why couldn't I get through a single day without feeling as if life would be better if I simply faded away.

I set my brush down and took in several deep breaths. What did Doctor Gibson always say at our sessions? To trust in myself? To give myself purpose and screw what other people thought? No. That didn't seem right. She had always been one to preach about checking my self-doubt at the door. To reinforce all my positive attributes rather than dwelling on my regrets and the bad things. Positivity rather than negativity.

She had said I should try turn the way I thought upside down. There were no tries. I simply had to do.

Yes. That was it.

I could do this. I had to do this. Steadying myself against the porcelain, I stared at my reflection and willed color back to my cheeks. Invisibility was my power and I controlled how much I wanted to use.

Once I was satisfied that I would not be vanishing any time soon, I washed my face and headed back to the kitchen where I cleaned the dishes. Knowing that all my immediate chores had been completed, I finally returned to the bedroom where my laptop sat on top of a low waist-high cabinet.

Prying it back open, I stared at where I had left off the night before – rereading the last few paragraphs before I resumed typing out the last few years before I had met Connor.

So enthralled in my little project, I did not notice time pass until the bedroom door opened and Connor stood standing in the entrance, the expression on his face a mixture of outrage and annoyance.

"Did you not hear me come in, Persephone?" he asked, voice low and dangerous. "How about when I called for you the last thirty goddamn times?"

I shrank back, glancing briefly at the time displayed in the lower right-hand corner of the screen. 6:30PM. Shit. Where had the time gone? "I'm sorry C-Connor," I stuttered. Though he had never once struck me before I could see that he was trembling. "I-I-I was writing. I had some music playing. Jesus, y-you know how I lost track of things when I'm e-engrossed with something. B-but give me thirty minutes. Please. I'll have dinner ready and waiting."

"That's not good enough!" Each word was punctuated with an increase in volume. I couldn't help it. I shied away. Instead of calming it down, my fear only made him angrier. He stalked towards me. "When I come home, I expect my girlfriend to greet me at the door. I would have preferred if you had called out. Instead of having to look for you and wondering if you had abandoned me. Funny thing is, I should have known you would be in here. Tip tap typing away on your stupid laptop. Thinking that just by writing down a few words, it'll make you feel better and maybe stop you from becoming unseen."

His words were like daggers, cutting at all my vulnerabilities. "Stop it," I pleaded.

"Well, news flash Persephone: it doesn't! Guess the jokes on you."

There were tears in my eyes and I was finding it hard to breathe. The months I had spent trying to reconstruct my fragile psyche were swept away and I was once more cast adrift. I covered my ears with my hands – hoping to drown out the vitriol.

I knew Connor loved me. Today had simply not been a good day for him. I should have known that. I should have been the dutiful girlfriend. God. What was wrong with me?

"Stop Connor. Please stop."

"No Persephone. I don't think I will. We need to talk about us. We need to talk about how you never give a damn about me. Even when I've slaved all day trying to put bread on the table! You're an ungrateful bitch, freeloading off my love and devotion to you. What's wrong with you, Persephone? Why can't you even do the simplest thing?"

"I-I don't…" Misery and fear threatened to overwhelm me. I felt so small, so insignificant. That nothing I did would ever amount to anything. Connor was right. He was always right. And I should have been grateful for everything he had done for me.

But it was all too much. For the first time, my thoughts went into a dark scary place that I'm sure Artemis had frequented all throughout high school.

It happened so quick. I only realized what I had done when Connor's eyes widened and he immediately backed towards the exit. His eyes darted around the room. "Persephone! This isn't funny. You turn visible right now, you hear me?"

I said not a word. I couldn't. My voice was gone as well and I could only sit morosely at my desk – ashamed and afraid of what would happen next.

"Persephone, I'm going to count to five. If you don't turn visible, I swear to God I'm walking out the door and throwing away the key. You'll be nothing to me, Persephone. Just like how you're nothing to your mom. You know that, right? She never loved you as much as Artemis. The only person who loves you is me but I'll take it back if you keep this on any further."

Why did he always have to reveal my secrets and use them against me? Connor knew which buttons to press and exactly how much he ought to prod. Even though I loved him, I also hated how he always held these things over my head.

Sadness turned to anger. Why was I always the enemy? I had proved time and time again my loyalty to Connor and our relationship. Yet without my voice, without even the ability to be seen, I knew that this could not be easily communicated. I wanted to scream and shout. Fight tooth and nail as I railed against my fate as one of the Unseen. But if I wanted to regain my appearance, I needed time to think. To calm down and be rational. Connor would only use my outbursts against me.

I glanced towards the bathroom door. There was only one way I would be able to find the solace I sought.

In the end, it was easier than I had thought.

As Connor was on the cusp of making it to five, I hopped over the bed and ran towards the bathroom. I slammed the door and ducked to the side as Connor raced towards me – thinking that I had sequestered myself inside. He banged futilely – never thinking to simply turn the knob – and demanded that I let him in. To console, to berate. God only knows what went through his mind.

Free for the first time, I slipped from the bedroom and out the front door. Stopping only briefly to pick up my laptop and a change of underwear before I left the apartment.

Somehow or other, I found myself outside Doctor Gibson's office close to nine. The lights were still on so I made my way up the stairs. As I stepped up to the door, ready to knock, I thought I could hear voices. Daunted by meeting another of her patients, I went back to the stairwell and made myself comfortable a flight down where I could see who might have had a such a late-night session with the good psychiatrist.

A couple minutes passed and the door creaked open. Out stepped a mess of a man. His cheeks were sunken and it seemed as if he had not shaved in weeks. There were dark bags under his eyes and when he walked past my hiding spot, I caught a whiff of stale whiskey on his breath.

"David! For God's sake David, you can't run from this."

I looked up in time to see Doctor Gibson slipping on a coat as she hurried out the door. The man ignored her, his pace quickening as he took the steps two at a time. Seeing my opportunity, I clambered to my feet and caught the door before it closed.

In her haste, she had left the light on.

I navigated my way down the hallway to the familiar couch where I had spent a couple hours each week trying to find the answers to my condition. The cushions were strewn on the floor and a blanket lay crumpled at one end. Atop the coffee table were water stains, clearly visible on the glass. Maybe David had been staying here. Or perhaps it had been the leftovers from another session with the good Doctor Gibson.

What frustrated me the most, though, was that even though I was now here in the sanctity of Doctor Gibson's abode, I could not make myself visible. Try as I might, I was able to be seen.

The best I could do was blur the edges and give myself a faint outline. Was this it? Was this how I faded into obscurity? Forgotten? Unloved?

I don't know how long I stood there, waiting for Doctor Gibson to return. Trapped in that spiral, it could have easily been thirty minutes or a day. All I could focus on was the rising panic and the all-encompassing fear that came with it. I was only pulled from my thoughts when the door slammed shut and I heard a strangled sob of frustration behind me.

Perhaps she had a sixth sense or maybe she heard me as I whirled around but almost immediately, I saw Doctor Gibson transform from weary and vulnerable to guarded and wary. "Who's there?" she called out. "I know someone's here. And if you're an Unseen trying to bugle me, well, there' not much you can take."

When I tried to speak, to reassure Doctor Gibson that I meant no harm, silence emerged from my lips. Caught between a mixture of dismay and fear, I clutched at my throat as I stumbled forward. Maybe she could feel me. Surely, she would notice if I made physical contact.

I still existed. I was still rooted in the world. Only my appearance and voice had been taken from me. Right?

She fell backwards when I wrapped my arms around her in a hug – desperate to feel wanted and loved and here. In my haste to save her, I banged my leg against the edge of the coffee table. "Damnit," I swore, trying to assess if I had suffered any damage. It didn't seem like I'd hurt myself but it was hard when even your own blood was invisible.

"Is that you, Persephone? I know that you told me that your powers were unstable," she said after a lengthy silence, "but I would never have guessed that it was this bad. Talk to me, Persephone. I'm here."

A smile threatened to tear my face in two. She had recognized my voice. She knew who I was. Perhaps it was this thought that broke through the barrier preventing me from becoming visible. It was only when Doctor Gibson began to stroke my back and dabbed at my tears that I realized that I must have returned. Or had, at the very least, resumed a faded outline or appearance.

My suspicions were confirmed when she took me into the restroom and I looked at my reflection in the mirror. Much of my color was missing but no-one could overlook the faint fuzziness that indicated my presence in the world.

It was nearly midnight when we settled back on the couch. Doctor Gibson looked worn out and weary as she handed me a cup of chamomile tea. We didn't talk much that night. She needed to head back home, but I was welcome to stay the night at the office to collect my bearings and make some decisions. When I handed over my laptop, with my story sequestered in a 30kb word document, Doctor Gibson slipped it into her bag and promised to read it when she had the chance.

We parted at one in the morning. I walked her down to the street before retreating back to her office where I had made a comfortable bed on the couch. Sleep eluded me as I ran through everything that had happened that day. Memories and thoughts would flash through my mind – demanding my attention.

I must have fallen asleep sometime between three or four, because when I next opened my eyes, Doctor Gibson was seated in her armchair, pouring over what I had written over the past week as per the assignment she gave me. Mouth dry and eyes crusted with rheum, it took me a while to understand where exactly I was.

I'm ashamed to admit that panic was my first instinct and I immediately tried calling out for Connor, confused at waking up in an unfamiliar environment.

Doctor Gibson, patient and understanding, was quick to allay any fears I had. Within the half hour, I had recollected myself and was gorging myself on a bagel slathered with cream cheese. She had also brewed up a batch of coffee. And though it was black, the first sip tasted a little like heaven as I was returned to the land of the living.

"This may be a little forward of me to ask, Persephone, but in all our talks together you never mentioned you had a sister," said Doctor Gibson when I had finished breakfast and had just returned from the kitchen. "In fact, it seems as if a lot of your present issues with your gift seems to stem from a place of guilt."

"Well, shouldn't I have been a little more aware? If I had known…if I had stopped it, perhaps Artemis would still be here," I replied warily, saying the first things that came to mind. Talking about what had happened in those frantic months at college had always been difficult. Particularly when mom had slowly begun to withdraw from our interactions. I had always known she loved my younger sister best.

She nodded. "That's an understandable emotion to feel."

"What are you getting at?" I asked, unsure where this conversation might be headed towards. All I knew was that there was tingling down my spine and not the good kind.

"Why don't you sit down," Doctor Gibson said gently. From her tone, it was not a simple request. "This is a bit earlier than our weekly sessions, but considering the circumstances that brought you to my door last night, I warrant that there are things we need to discuss."

I didn't quite know how to respond to that. A part of me was scared. It wanted to turn invisible and run away. But a stronger part, the one that was sick and tired of feeling trapped stopped me from giving in. It was this part that sat me down opposite Doctor Gibson and look her dead in the eye as I waited for the guillotine to fall.

"From what I've read so far, I can see that you feel responsible for what happened to Artemis. In the years since, you've pushed everyone away. And all the failed relationships you've been in, the men you've dated – all of it is some twisted sort of penance. You want to punish yourself, Persephone."

Laughter burst through my lips. "Really, Doc? Is that the best you got? I'll admit that I haven't made the wisest choices but that was because my power made it impossible. One day I'd be me and then the next, I was gone. Faded from sight. As if I didn't exist. As if I never existed. Do you know how that feels like? To have all your efforts gone unacknowledged by those around you. To be ignored and treated as little more than the air someone else breathes?

"Connor was the one that helped stabilize me. He saw me. Because he knew what it meant to be unseen. To be cursed with this ability and not know how to control it."

"Yet, here you are. With me," observed Doctor Gibson. "Why is that, Persephone? If Connor sees you, where is he now? What happened last night?"

"I—we…we had a fight," I admitted. "But that doesn't negate the fact that he's always been there for me."

Doctor Gibson leaned in close. "What did you fight about, Persephone? Was it the fact you were distracted? Or did you forget to have everything just the way he liked it? After all our sessions together, we've hardly even broached the topic about your relationship. Whenever we do, you're quick to change the subject. Is it because he frightens you? Or is he one of the underlying reasons behind why you can't control your powers?"

Each question was a direct blow against the fragile wall I had constructed around my psyche. For months I had tried to play pretend. For months, I had written off Connor's behavior and given him excuses.

If I was going to be honest with myself, though, I needed to realize that being with Connor did not make me happy. I hated how he always treated me as if I was made of porcelain. Or that I was incredibly naive.

In fact, so many of his actions only served to undermine my individuality and my autonomy. Ever since we had met, he had tried to strip away my self-confidence to boost his own ego. And I, feeling that this was what I deserved after what had happened with Artemis, had allowed it to happen. I had been the accomplice to my own downfall.

Hot tears prickled at the corner of my eyes. I tried to blink them away, but it was useless to stem the tide of emotion that crashed through. Doctor Gibson watched on, a silent witness, her face an impassive mask. I did not know if she considered this a breakthrough or if she was aghast that she had destroyed the very fabric of my tenuous world.

Rebuilding my fractured relationships was a lot easier than I had initially thought. It was still a long and drawn out process with many missteps. For a while, I despaired whether or not any of it would be worth it. But, little by little, I made inroads. They say that a journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step. And that was exactly what happened.

Doctor Gibson continued to help and support me during my momentary lapses. Of course, always with a fee attached. With my new role and growing mastery of my abilities, however, it was a small price to pay.

What I struggled the most with, though, was letting go of my feelings of inadequacy and the guilt that had plagued me for so many years. It didn't help that for several weeks, I still tried to make it work with Connor. He had a way with pushing my buttons to make me feel worse. In the end, there was simply no way for the both of us to be together. Or even live in the same apartment. Not after everything that had happened.

I moved out and continued to work on both my physical fitness and my mental health.

Whether or not it was the right thing to do, I can't say. There were moments when I wondered if I even deserved something better but Doctor Gibson was quick to pull the 'could have, should have, would have' card. There was no telling what might have been and there was little sense on dwelling on the possibilities. What was done was done. The past was immutable and could not be changed.

The future, though, that was unwritten. And I had it within me to chart a different course. To seek atonement rather than wallowing in self-pity.

When I think about everything, though, I know I'm not quite there. Yet I know now that such things take time. There's no instant solution. With my new roommates and Doctor Gibson and quite a few supportive colleagues from work, I felt as if I was finally starting to see the light at the end of a long dark tunnel.

People saw me. Even in my darkest moments. Perhaps I should have reached out earlier. Sought help when I could.

Despite shame and embarrassment holding me back, I still managed to cling onto that last shred of hope. And it was the very thing I needed to claw my way out of an impossible situation.

I write this now for the people that come after. For those that are held back by fear and anxiety.

I see you.

And if I can make it then you can do it too.

#short story #why aren't there any line breaks?#using dashes

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gatesofember · 6 years ago

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The Privilla: Chapter 2

PJO Arranged Marriage/Royalty AU Part 2

Rating: G | Pairing: Solangelo

Prev | Next | AU directory | Read it on AO3 (Recommended) | Arranged Marriage AU Masterpage

Summary: Almost ten years after their first introduction, Will and Prince Nico meet again. But this time, they are no longer children. Will, the illegitimate third son of Duke Apollo, has had a few prospective suitors, but none of the offers have been as lucrative as his family has hoped. Prince Nico has had his fair share of suitors, as well; with the pressure of being heir to the throne of a kingdom in economic turmoil, Nico is expected to marry for profit and security. However, his icy personality has driven many impatient suitors away. The two young men may prove to be exactly what the other needs.

William sat completely frozen for a several minutes before his mind caught up with his aunt’s words.

“Prince Nico, Duke of Angelus,” Will repeated slowly, like his mouth was having trouble shaping the words. He remained silent for a moment before smiling at his aunt and saying, “You should not tease me, Your Divinity.”

“I am not,” the Matestra told him. “I have spoken to the King and written to your father. The Prince has also agreed to meet you.”

Will could feel his body starting to buzz with restless energy as the truth of Artemis’ words sank in. He drummed his fingers on his knees to relieve some of his agitation, trying to calm his racing heart. When he glanced at Hestia, his aunt’s aide, she looked vaguely surprised, but she did little more than raise an eyebrow and she gathered a pen and piece of parchment from her bag to take notes on the Matestra’s meeting. Thalia, on the other hand, did not look surprised at all. She caught Will’s eye and gave him a smirk.

Will could remember meeting the Prince in his childhood, and he would not lie and say that his younger self never entertained fantasies of meeting him again. To his six-year-old mind, the Duke of Angelus had seemed perfect in every way; clever, well-groomed, lively, and popular among older children. It had taken nearly two years for Will to stop blushing at the mere mention of the Prince. Even then, at sixteen years of age, he often felt his heart stutter when he thought of Prince Nico.

But when his aunt had stated that, beyond Will’s most absurd hopes and unrealistic fantasies, he had been granted a meeting with the Prince in the hopes of securing an engagement, he felt like he was six years old again, speechlessly sitting with Nico in Aether’s Square and listening as the Prince entertained him with stories.

Will was not quite marriageable age, but he had been old enough to see suitors for about a year. Nico, as a member of a royal family, would have started earlier. He had likely entertained more suitors than Will by that point, and they certainly would have been more respectable candidates than Will. As a natural-born child, most of Will’s offers had been considerably older than him and fairly low in status—mostly earls and countesses, and he had entertained a knight for a while before she turned her attentions to a marquess in Mars. Will was fully aware that he was not a desirable suitor. He would never inherit his father’s duchy, and his best hope for his future was to inherit a small county in Diana—although Will preferred the idea of remaining in Venadica as a consor, or perhaps moving back to Diana to enter the service of one of his older brothers. It was simply insensible for Will to marry a prince — a crown prince, at that.

“I...I am not sure that is entirely appropriate, your divinity,” Will stuttered. “His Highness is...well, he is heir to the Pluton throne, but I have very little to offer.”

“Your father can offer a substantial dowry,” Artemis replied.

“But surely I am unqualified—”

“You are more valuable than you think, Will,” Artemis said. “Your father’s wealth makes you an attractive suitor, for one thing, and for another, you are a consor, which, I daresay, is exactly what the royal family needs.”

“But surely His Highness would prefer a wife,” Will objected. Same sex-marriages tended to be less common in royal families because the conception of heirs was so important for succession.

“The Prince has no interest in taking a wife,” Artemis replied. “Simply as a matter of personal preference, he has stated that he would marry a husband. I am aware that it seems to be an unlikely pairing, but consider, William. Think of what you have learned in your theories of government lessons. What sorts of problems has the kingdom of Pluto faced this past decade?”

“The disease, of course,” Will answered, sparing another glance at Hestia, who was watching with silent interest. “The Scarlet Delirium.” Will had been starting his training in Venadica when the Scarlet Delirium was at its worst, training under the consor Asclepius, who was the leading authority on medicine in the City of Enlightenment. The disease, for the most part, did not spread from Pluto, as Artemis’ scientists had the foresight to recommend that all transportation to and from the kingdom be restricted. However, the effects had been devastating.

Shortly after Artemis’ inauguration as Matestra, the Crown Princess of Pluto, Bianca, had fallen ill with the Scarlet Delirium. Will recalled being outside the room where she spent the last days of her life. Shortly after she contracted the disease, the King had ordered her to be sent to Venadica, where the best minds in the world were researching the disease in a desperate attempt to find a cure. The Princess had not survived. However, before the feverish delirium hit her in the third stage of the disease, the Princess had requested that she might see Artemis and take the Soror’s Oath, thereby relinquishing her place in the line of succession and making her brother heir to the throne of Pluto.

Will recalled wishing he could see the Prince and help him in any way possible, but Nico had been far away in the Pluton countryside, where he was safe from the contagion. Bianca had been without kin, out of her mind, and paralyzed in her last moments—only Artemis had remained with the Princess until she drew her last breath.

The loss of the Princess had devastated Pluto. She had been popular among the people—clever and pretty, with the promise of one day making a fine queen. With the heir to the throne gone, disease slaughtering Plutons in every town, and no way of engaging in trade with Jupiter or Neptune, the once-famed wealth of Pluto had been exhausted. A consistently functional cure to Scarlet Delirium had never been discovered, but research had found that sanitation minimized the spread of disease, and it was contained until it became all but extinct.

What Pluto needed, more than anything else, was stability. The Prince would need to marry someone wealthy who could bring relief to the kingdom quickly. Diana, Will’s father’s duchy, was among the wealthiest in Jupiter. Will could see the logic in forming a marriage bond. As a consor, Will would also be able to provide advice to the royal family and its courts in Pluto’s time of need.

“The economy,” Will said, looking up at his aunt. “My dowry could pay for some elements of reconstruction, and ties with Diana would open opportunities for trade with southern Jupiter.”

“Excellent work, Will,” Artemis answered. “And do not underestimate the importance of morale. Faith in the royal family has been low ever since the death of the Princess. I suspect that the addition of a consor—a consor primarily studying medicine, at that—would greatly boost the people’s confidence, as well as their opinion of the Prince.”

Will nodded. He didn’t understand why there seemed to be so many negative opinions of the Prince throughout Pluto, and he could only assume that it was the result of bitterness at the loss of Princess Bianca. He did not fully believe that Nico’s character was to blame; Artemis liked the Prince, after all, and Hestia had attested to his kindness, as well. Still, the idea of attempting to court the Prince was terrifying, for many reasons. He could be wrong; perhaps the Prince was as cold as the rumors said. Perhaps the Prince would reject him without bothering to give him a chance. Perhaps if Will married the Prince, he would be unable to see his family again.

“I...I still am not sure that I would suit His Highness,” Will said uncertainly.

“It is one meeting, Will,” Artemis replied. “If the Prince believes you to be a suitable partner, I have no doubt that the King will agree to enter in discussions of an arrangement. All that is left is for you to woo His Highness. You got along well the first time, did you not?”

Will flushed at his aunt’s reference to his first meeting with the Prince and looked at his feet when he caught Hestia and Thalia giving him sly smiles. Yes, he had enjoyed himself immensely that evening; he had been enamored by His Highness. For a long time, there was little that Will wouldn’t do for a chance to meet Prince Nico again. Now, however, Will hesitated—not because he did not want to see the Prince, but because he was afraid.

But then, he’d been afraid the first time, too.

“I shall do my best, your divinity,” Will said. “I do not know how you were able to arrange this meeting, but I am indebted to you. And before we depart, I believe I require lessons on dancing the minuet and a partner to practice Acies with.”

#solangelo #Will solace #Nico di Angelo #solangelo arranged marriage au #arranged marriage AU #pjo Arranged Marriage au #royalty au #pjo royalty au #solangelo royalty au #solangelo fanfiction #solangelo fanfic #pjo fanfiction #my fic #pjo #hoo #toa #trials of apollo #Heroes of Olympus #Percy Jackson and the Olympians

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intelligentdumbass · 4 years ago

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The Golden Son

(Here have this thing from ao3 that I kinda planned to make it have multiple chapters but also still being pretty indecisive about actually making it happen. This was like, a couple of months ago.)

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“Apollo”

Something had awoken then, and darkness was all its eyes could see. Yet, despite this he wasn’t frightened. It was as if that somehow, inside this warm enclosed space, he knew he was safe. Then, there came another name, from the same soothing voice that had awoken him in the first place.

“Artemis”

He was suddenly made aware of the pair of feet in front of his face, and so he eagerly kicked back.

“Oh-” “Oh my fates! You two are but a mere babe and yet, I can already feel your prowess…”

Fortunately, the voice let out a laugh, which was enough to distract these two entities and prevent them from trying to wrestle each other.

“You are certainly going to grow up to be someone very special, my precious twins” ...

Now sing, O goddess, of Leto’s brilliant son, a favorite of the King of gods. Sing of him, the far-shooter who punishes the wicked and overbearing, and the foreseeing god who affords help and wards off evil. He, the leader of the muses and the patron of the arts, who protects herds of cattle, and delights in the foundation of towns. Recite, O Muse, his story from the beginning until the present hour, the tale of Phoebus Apollo, the lord of the rising sun.

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Another day, another visitor. It was him again, as it always was in these recent years, but not often enough that everyone else would question his motives for doing so. In their eyes, all he was doing was trying to secure the peaceful relations with all of the other Titans, which was technically true to some degree.

“What am I, but another Titan in a world filled with hundreds?” She remembers asking him once.

“I disagree, you’re different” He smiled.

He was lying through his teeth, but it would be impossible not to feel a little flattered. After all, in all his other pursuits, he would’ve usually given up by now, but he didn't. I suppose he must’ve found something that had really caught his interest, or perhaps he was just that enamored with her face? At this point, who knows?

She did end up giving in eventually, but not without making him work for it. It happened less in a time of weakness and more of just for the hell of it. What can I say? If you focused on the sheer surface level of it all, he was quite appealing. He was far from just some vague and unknown entity. I mean, what harm would one quick night with him do?

She had thought that if she were to end up bearing a child, they’d only grow up to be a decently strong minor deity at most. She knew he was powerful; she’s seen it first hand, but she wasn’t expecting it to result into this. Then again, I suppose she’s not exactly weak either. Perhaps she had underestimated herself.

It happened, if this boy’s counting was right, in the dead of night. About seven months after the day he first heard his name, he heard a voice, but this time it was…different somehow, very different. The greeting spoken by this creature was already a little alarming in itself but its voice, I’m not sure how to describe it, if I even can describe it. The stutters, the sneers and its hiss… Every syllable it spoke made Apollo’s skin crawl. It was as if this thing was inside the womb too, discordantly whispering the words into his ear.

He felt his mom, Leto, stiffen and so did the usually pushy Artemis. It was followed by a yell, and then all of a sudden, they were moving. The mother was now running for her life, desperately heaving, heart fiercely and rapidly beating. She had just entered labor. Unfortunately, every time she managed to temporarily outrun whatever was chasing her, the land she sat on would shake and tremble.

“I’m so sorry my Lady.” One of the lesser earth deities who had denied her rest said, bowing their head a little, almost sounding like they were ashamed of themselves. “But you are banned from giving birth on terra firma. All solid ground with roots in the earth is forbidden to accept you. The queen decrees it.”

No matter what she said, they would not budge. The most she’d get was a stuttering apology.

Now obviously the twins were absolutely livid. Their mother was in so much pain and they couldn’t do anything about it. This was an insult to her name, to all of their names and they fucking despised it. Though, Apollo also couldn’t help but be more than a little…fascinated by all of this.

Leto’s little game of tag went on for weeks on end, but not once did she ever give up, determined to give birth to her children. She continued to run, shapeshifting multiple times in order to hide and/or stay ahead of her pursuer.

. . .

I ��m standing on an island floating along the seas of the Mediterranean. Golden flowers spring out of the ground at every step I take, as seven swans fly in one big circle above my head.

Despite not being able to see her son’s thoughts, she suddenly felt herself being drawn to a certain island. At last, when the monster seemed to have lost her trail, she made a desperate run for it. When she arrived, at first she was confused. However, as the land she stood on slowly rocked back and forth like a ship, she quickly understood.

“Le…to?”

Apollo felt like he had already heard that voice before, but he wasn’t quite sure on who exactly it was. For some reason his mother didn’t really acknowledge it, perhaps thinking it was a hallucination. Besides, there were some more pressing matters that had to be dealt with.

“Hear me, Delos, the drifting isle.” She began. “Please I beg of you, allow me to rest and give birth on your shore. You aren’t like the others; Hera’s rule doesn’t apply to you. Think about it, if you do this you will have not just one, but two gods that will always be in your favor. Your name will be praised and remembered in history as the sacred birthplace of my twins, Lord Apollo and Lady Artemis.”

The island nymphs and the rest of its inhabitants consented.

Arty came out quickly. Her brother? Not so much.

“Artemis…Artemis oh Artemis! I-I can’t…He won’t come out.”

“Mother, you can do this. You have to do this! I believe in you.”

…

Apollo opened his eyes, and was greeted with a most beautiful sight; a glorious little orb in a sea of blue draping the world in its light. Beneath it was the face of a blonde young girl.

He tried to touch her, but his arms were too short. The fact that he was wrapped in some sort of blanket cocoon didn’t really help either. Upon seeing his failed attempt to poke her, Artemis broke into one of the cutest and most genuine smiles he will ever see. He doesn't know how he knew she was his twin sister, he just knew.

“It’s alright Pollo.” She said “The creature that was making all of those hissing noises is gone now. Mother’s okay. She’s alive and well, albeit extremely exhausted. The others are helping her clean up.”

He tilted his head to the side and sure enough, out of the corner of his eyes he saw a couple of goddesses assisting a very tired Leto. Despite the immense amount of ichor on the lower half of her body, she seems happy, I think. It was a little blurry since his mind was still reeling from what was his first vision. He needed to focus though. After all, what happens now? Once they were done cleaning up, Artemis carefully placed him into his mother’s arms.

“Apollo…” he heard her lovingly murmur.

Then there was a different voice, ancient and calm.

“Here, drink this.”

It came from a Titan who introduced herself as Lady Themis. In her hand she held a cup and gently pressed its brim onto the baby’s lips, and it was filled with this strange amber liquid. Apollo was a little reluctant at first, but since neither Leto or Artemis was doing anything to stop it, he eventually drank.

The second he took a sip; all of his senses were enhanced a hundredfold. He laughed as he felt an unending rush of energy flow within his veins. It was like hearing his name except a thousand more times exhilarating. Apollo grabbed the cup and finished that sweet delectable drink down to the very last drop. Before he knew it, this infant had now grown into a toddler fully capable of standing on his own two legs.

Themis took back the goblet, which was followed by Leto pulling both of the twins into one big hug. When she eventually let go, Apollo couldn’t help but get distracted by a mountain so tall it pierced through the clouds; an enormous and glorious white palace sitting on its peak. His mom noticed him staring and gave a hesitant smile.

“That’s Mt. Olympus. Beautiful, isn’t it?”

That wasn’t all. Somehow, he also managed to see a tall bearded man standing on one of its balconies, a crown of lightning on top of his head. His sky-blue eyes were staring right at him, and despite the smile adorning the man’s face, he couldn’t help but feel mildly intimidated. The man then mouthed something to him, and it was then that he knew what he had to do. Apollo needed to impress them. The twins needed to impress them. It was the best way to guarantee their mother’s safety and make sure that they lived the best lives that they could’ve possibly lived. He looked at Artemis who was still annoyingly taller than him.

“Being a minor deity isn’t enough.” He murmured. “We need to become one of them. We need to have a throne on Olympus”

Artemis raised an eyebrow.

“And how exactly do you plan on doing that?”

He simply shrugs.

“Only one way to find out”

#apollo #greek gods #greek mythology #MyWritingShit #Maybe if I actually commit to this #I’ll actually edit and change some of things in here

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