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nanaminokanojo · 3 years ago

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BLOOM | Sukuna X You | Part 1/3

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His hair was the color of cherry blossoms, that's the first thing you noticed. It was the softest shade of pink, easy on the eyes, reminding you of the tendrils of filtered rays of the sun lightly touching the edges of clouds very early in the morning. Or your favorite angora wool sweater.

The man stole your attention from the book you were reading when you chanced a look from your periphery just to check who sat on the stool beside your usual spot on the bar – the seat at the very end by the wall. Your planned glance turned into a furtive stare at the sight of him from his candy-floss-hued hair, the rippling muscles hidden under his white oxford shirt and the array of tattoos that peeked through his neatly folded sleeves. And boy, since when did men smell like vanilla and spring while also exuding such a virile scent?

A smile tugged at the corners of your mouth at the thought, internally shaking your head at your behavior. You should not be staring at people, and though you weren't exactly ogling him, you were still observing him enough to associate him with your favorite article of winter clothing.

"Hey. The usual for you?" you heard Maki, the bar owner, ask, giving you the idea that the man was a regular. How you haven't spotted him before was a mystery.

If it was already hard concentrating on the novel you were reading, you've completely forgotten about it when you heard him say, "Make that single-malt." It's either the gates of hell opened at the sudden heat you felt on your skin at the sound of his voice or the gates of heaven did with how delicious it sounded in your ear, thick like honey and deep with a distinct ring to it. It got you wondering what his mother craved for when she was pregnant with him, and your brain said, "Greek gods," when you lifted your eyes from the current page you were reading and briefly exchanged looks with him as he shifted his line of vision from Maki to you.

You turned your eyes back to your book, making it seem like you were just absently looking about, but in reality, it took herculean effort to wrench your gaze from him. In that brief meeting of your eyes, the features of his face registered in your head like a bar code scanner, etching itself in your mind like a white-hot brand. He wasn't shockingly handsome, but he was beautiful in his own right with those intense eyes that reminded you of drowning pools and the rugged yet refined planes of his face. It was as if an artist painted him in passionate anger, slowly fell in love with the piece and began redefining his features with gentler strokes.

You turned the page of your book despite not getting any reading done. Well, it has been the case for a considerable amount of minutes now, but you tried anyway, furiously staring down at the new page but not comprehending anything. Your eyes kept scanning the same sentence over and over again but it was not sinking in at all.

"Excuse me, miss," that deep voice you've already developed a strange affection for assaulted your senses again, making your head snap up to the direction it was coming from. Hell, you think you'll do its owner's bidding just hearing it at the rate you were going, reacting automatically as if you were programmed with a voice prompt or something.

You were about to look at him but Maki caught your attention as she pushed the smoothie you ordered towards you, placing it precisely in front of you on the hardwood surface with her fingers. She arched a brow at you, causing you to stiffen on your seat.

You've been coming to the quiet little bar since you grew old enough to drink. In fact, you considered it your regular watering hole, going there whenever you can even in the day as it doubled as a gastro-pub. You've already come to know the staff who reserved the spot for you every single time you told them you were coming, particularly the tough but very lovable Maki. She's basically a friend now, and you knew you were acting off if she was giving you odd looks.

"Thanks, Maki," you said just in time, even managing to smile. She just shook her head at you before walking away to tend to another client.

"I have to know what book you are reading," the person beside you said just as you began sipping on your drink, which, you've noted, was a cherry blossom tea smoothie that reminded you of him.

You let go of the straw between your lips, swallowing hard. Turning your attention to him, you found him sitting sideways, chin propped on the heel of his palm as he regarded you. "Huh?" was all you could manage to say to him.

A slow, crooked smile etched itself across his mouth, the action appearing sensuous with the gradual way his expressions changed. "That book," he said for your benefit. "May I know what it is about?"

You just blinked, still questioning yourself if he was addressing you.

"If you're that engrossed about it, it must be great," he said. "Mind telling me the title?"

"Book?" you asked dumbly. He was really frying your brain.

He pointed at the book you were holding with his lips, protruding them slightly before smiling again. Jesus, you loved the way he smiled. The gesture didn't belong there when you've already thought he was the smirking, grinning-devil type. It was too soft a gesture, but then again his hair was shell-pink – a contradiction to his stridently brawny features.

"Oh." Despite yourself, you found yourself chuckling. "I'm sorry, I was distracted."

"Not by the book, I hope."

You looked away, smiling to yourself as you closed the object in question and slid it over to him. When you looked at him, you were surprised to see him actually reading the synopsis at the back, interest flickering in his dark eyes. You were already expecting him to just read the title, probably the author, too, thinking he was just flirting with you judging by his last words. But he was actually reading it.

"It's about an architect," he stated. "He must be mind-blowingly awesome if you're too transfixed on his story."

"No, Howard Roark is mostly a recalcitrant bastard who breaks rules here and there, doesn't cooperate or collaborate and is stone-faced about most anything."

"But it's what you like about him," he supplied.

You nodded. "He’s a breath of fresh air in a world governed by stuffy archaic principles. The spring to a long, stagnant winter of conformity. I'm in love with him." Noticing the look of amusement on his face, you were quick to add, "What?"

"Nothing." His smile didn't waver though. "Are you an architect, too?"

"Too?" you repeated with inflection then tilted your head. "Ah, you're an architect, huh?"

"Guilty."

"Any projects of note?" you asked, tilting your head in wonder when he seemed flustered. "What is it?"

He shook his head slowly. "You're very straightforward."

At that, you grinned. "Should I take you out to dinner before I get that information?" You sipped leisurely at your smoothie, glad that you throw him off as much as he flusters you.

"You don't have to," he found himself answering anyway. "But I work for a firm, so they get most of the credit. We built that new hotel at Shinjuku."

"Eh? Didn't pin you for a baroque kind of guy."

"You know..." He was all ears now judging by how he leaned closer to you. He leveled his expression to yours then. "So, what kind of guy did you think I am?"

There it is, you thought, the smirk you've been waiting for. Without giving it much thought, you said, "The Howard Roark type, of course."

***

"You seriously don't remember, do you?"

It wasn't that you didn't. You simply had no idea how you got home, considering how you ended up all smashed after enjoying too many margaritas after your smoothie. You seriously just didn't know certain things. You didn't know what happened after you reached your limit. And out of all the things you know you should not have missed, you didn't know his name.

You were sitting on the kitchen counter, nursing a headache, trying to fill in every bit of information your friends were trying to leech out of you in your addled state. You've been expecting it - the great inquisition - especially after you returned in a state lesser than they've been expecting, unconscious, according to the collective stories of your roommates, when you told them you were just stepping out to get some reading done. And on a school night, no less. Very atypical of you indeed.

"What should I be remembering?" you responded to Ieiri. You weren't exactly fond of her worrisome nature although you knew she was just watching your back especially since she has been rather disapproving of your escapades with these guys you somewhat dated back then. You appreciated it, but it didn't mean you liked it.

"Oh, I don't know, Y/N. Strawberry blond? Tats? Drives a Jeep? Ring any bells?" she said, jogging your memory. "He came knocking at two in the morning, carrying you in his arms. I mean he was hot according to Satoru, but do you even know the guy?"

“Cherry blossom,” you absently corrected the color Ieiri mentioned.

“Huh?”

“Him, I remember.” You smiled at the thought, not hiding your delight from them. You were sure they were just annoyed that they weren't in on the action since Satoru, your other friend and roommate, who seem nonexistent recently, was the one who interacted with the man you met and supposedly brought you back to the house you rented with all of them. And Satoru doesn't know basic decorum to actually ask what the man’s name was. "Howard."

"Howard?" Suguru, another one of your friends who was in the literature department as you were, asked. "Howard Roark?" He knew the reference, obviously. You forced him to read the book before it even became one of your study materials.

You nodded enthusiastically. "He's an architect."

"He didn't look like a 'Howard,' apparently," Ieiri said.

"That name is from her favorite book," Suguru supplied, his dark eyes shifting to you as he tucked some stray strands of his long, raven locks which were currently tied in a half-up. "So your guy's an architect, too."

"That, but he isn't 'my guy' and I don't know what his name is."

He grinned then. "If you're openly calling him by the name of the character you claim to be in love with, I'm assuming..."

"No!" Ieiri gasped.

You laughed despite the action making your head hurt. You were still hungover after all, but you didn't mind, not when you knew you had a good night. Probably a great night to allow yourself to be hammered like you have been. You only ever drank to your fill when the company is great and when you were in a jovial mood.

"It's nothing like that. He just feels like spring time. Looks like it, too." You waved your hands in front of you for emphasis. Still, your expressions said otherwise.

You weren't in love with the man because you didn't believe in mushy things like love at first sight, but you knew you liked him, just that you weren't getting your hopes up cause there's a chance you might not see him ever again, assuming your meeting was something transient like the blossoms his hair made you think of. Even if he was a regular at Maki's, if your schedules didn't coincide with one another, it would not be easy to meet. You've been coming to the same bar for years and yet, you've only ever seen him that time. You never really know.

But then, you got your answer pretty quickly.

From: Satoru

See you at 7 tomorrow night. Same place.

That’s how Satoru's message read, sent late the previous night. You almost forgot about the agreement you’ve had with him to get unlimited barbecue after sleeping the rest of the day but you made it out just in time. It was something you did with all three of your friends as a way to bond with them individually.

You glanced at the clock on your phone, feeling the stares of the restaurant staff on you. Well, you’ve been there for more than an hour waiting for him. One hour and thirteen minutes to be precise. All you’ve ordered so far was a glass of lemonade and you were able to finish that in the first half hour, sitting on a table for two when evidently, you were alone. All your texts were ignored and your calls were always being redirected to voicemail.

“Where the fuck are you, Gojo Satoru?” you asked him in one of your messages, hissing low into your phone just so the other diners would not be offended by your words. You got a message another twenty minutes later, the sound of your phone almost making you jump from your seat. However, when you looked at it, it was from an unknown number.

You were about to check the message when one of the waitresses came to your table, pad and pen on the ready. She’s always the one who served you whenever you and your friends would go there for a dose of beef and pork fat, and she has always been nice to you.

“Not to be nosy but I think your friend isn’t coming.”

You nodded, grimacing. “Tell me about it.”

“The boss has been giving you the stink eye, too.”

Looking over the counter, you saw the elderly man really looking at you. He looked away when you met his eyes, muttering to himself. You knew how the owner could get, but you simply loved going there since their food is good and the service is just the same. You smiled ruefully at the woman before you. “I’ll have a sukiyaki set and warm sake, please. Thank you.”

“Would that be all?”

“Yeah.”

“Coming right up.” She flashed you a bright smile before disappearing into the back rooms.

You almost forgot the message you saw earlier, but then, your phone lit up again with that familiar tone. The new message was from the same number.

From: Unknown

How are you?

From: Unknown

I hope you’re okay.

You frowned, not having the slightest clue as to who could be texting you.

From: You

Who is this?

Your order came but there was no response from the mystery texter or Satoru. You felt pathetic looking at your phone every once in a while as you ate and drank. Normally, you wouldn’t even have given anybody, including your best friends, the time of the day, making you wait for longer than an hour without as much as a message. You don’t ever wait for people over the agreed meeting time. You hated it with passion. And you were already thinking of ways to make Satoru pay.

You were about to eat a mouthful of beef when you heard the chair across you being dragged back. Your eyes flicked to the direction, and to your utter shock, you almost dropped your chopsticks if it weren’t for the hand that reached out and held onto your hand, securing the utensils.

Once again, you were sitting on your usual spot at the bar, eyes clashing with those intense ones owned by the pink-haired guy who apparently drove a charcoal grey Jeep and reminded you of spring, the same one who drove you home the other night.

“Careful,” he said, his scent assaulting your senses.

A lump formed in your throat, making you unable to form proper words, so you settled for putting down the chopsticks. You folded your hands together on your lap, recovering from your consternation before you finally looked at him, unable to help it but grin. He looked different that day, more laid back in a white baseball cap mussing his candy-floss hair down, a loose-fitting shirt in the same hue and jeans. He looked so fresh, you felt the air around you cool down considerably.

“How did you…” you hesitated and shook you head. “Hello.”

He broke into that crooked smile. “Crazy how the moment you sent the message, I saw you through the glass walls while I drove past.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but closed it again, not quite knowing how to react to it when suddenly, the first part of his statement registered in your mind. “Wait, message?” You picked up your phone, showing him the messages. “This is you?”

He nodded slowly. “Looks like you’re doing great.” He regarded the bottle of sake on the table. “I had to get your number to check up on you. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Y-yeah, I mean, no, not at all. Thank you by the way.” You chuckled, saving his number and naming him Spring God in your contacts. “I wasn’t really expecting you to bring me home.”

“I got your address from your driving license.” He grinned then. “I thought of taking you back to my place, but I didn’t know how that would sit with you.”

Who says chivalry was dead? “I’m sorry for acting crazy, if I did anyway." You chuckled. "I don't remember…and for having to bring me all the way to the house.”

“It’s fine. It was lovely meeting Satoru.”

At that, your face flushed red. You winced. “I’m sorry for whatever he did while I was out of it.” He could be crazy at times, and you wouldn't be surprised if he did something untoward.

He shook his head, letting out a slight chuckle. “He was very nice to me, don’t worry.” He furrowed his brows then. “I also got your name. Y/N. I don’t know if you forgot to tell me or you just didn’t trust me enough, but I’d like to think it’s the former since you didn’t seem to think twice about getting wasted with me like you did.”

You deliberately didn’t tell him your name, but he was making it sound a little nicer. It wasn’t really something you planned on doing again, meeting him, but somehow, he found you. You shook you head, coming clean. “If you put it that way, okay, but really, I thought it was better if you didn’t know.”

“Hmm. Why is that?”

You found it endearing that he tilted his head a bit to the side when he asked the question. Your lips curled upwards at the corner. “I just never thought I’d meet you again.”

“That would be unfortunate.”

You laughed awkwardly at his remark. “I didn’t mean that in a bad way.”

“I’m not offended.”

“Okay.”

You requested for another order of barbecue for him. He declined but you insisted. “Come on. My treat for your act of kindness.” You snickered. “Besides, my supposed date bailed.”

“Date?”

Sighing, you said, “Well, not really. Satoru. We agreed to meet here over an hour ago but he hasn’t been answering my messages or calls. Something probably came up.”

He eyed you thoughtfully. “If you don't mind me asking, is he your...?"

"My what?"

"Your boyfriend…maybe."

You chuckled at the thought, but then you realized you didn't even know his name. "I don't really tell strangers about things like that," you teased.

“Okay, but I thought we’re past being strangers.” He smirked then and you swore you felt your stomach flip.

“We’re in the getting-to-know-each-other phase,” you told him with a laugh, acceding. "Since I didn't tell you my name, I didn't expect you to tell me yours. Plus I didn't ask, so may I have yours?"

"Sukuna," he said. "Ryomen Sukuna."

"Su-ku-na," you repeated, liking the feel of the syllables as they rolled out of your tongue. Finally, the person you've gotten so fond of in just a short time had a name. You didn't know what his name meant but it seemed to match him well regardless of how arbitrary it was to his person. You couldn't think of any better name though. "I like your name. It's pretty." You smiled brightly at him then. "And no, Satoru is not my boyfriend."

Ryomen Sukuna was an absolute puzzle to you. How he could look so badass and pretty much intimidating with his strapping physique and inked skin – throw in the multiple piercings on his left ear which you were noticing or the first time – while also pulling off all these adorable little actuations was a quandary to you. Tall, solidly built men like him should not be reminding you of soft, cute things, but the moment he blinked in confusion, you knew you couldn't get enough of it.

"Nobody ever said that about my name, but thanks," he returned in that deep voice after a moment's pause. And was that a dusting of roses over his cheeks? The surprises you were getting from this man was endless. He really was such a breath of fresh air, so far from the usual stereotypes.

Your face seemed to be perpetually pulled into a smile whenever you were around him, and you didn't think you were doing a good job suppressing the urge to be beaming like an idiot around him. "So, anyway, what made you think that blue-eyed idiot is my boyfriend?" you asked, changing the topic.

"Well, he was a bit hostile at first when he took you from me, making me explain things but then started apologizing after. He told me you could be a handful when inebriated..." He let his voice trail off as if letting you chew on his words.

"You agree with him." It wasn't a question.

"Yes." Sukuna pretended to frown. "He also calls you 'his princess'."

You threw your head back, covering your eyes momentarily in embarrassment. "Now I wish you met Ieiri and Suguru instead," proceeding to explain that the nickname was something akin to what a father would call his precious daughter.

"He was rather intimidating, but I guess he's just looking out for you."

"He's still not off the hook for standing me up," you quipped, "But you finding him intimidating is funny."

"Why?"

You scoffed, gesturing over to him. "I think you can snap him in two if you wished, too."

"He was scary," Sukuna insisted.

"He's harmless...most of the time, but yeah, he’s rather protective. That’s one of my dads for you."

He laughed then. "There's nothing scarier than a fiercely protective friend…or a doting father. I can't muscle my way out of that for sure."

"Ah, then you'll find Ieiri scarier."

The night pretty much went well and ended on a good note. Sukuna did most of the talking for the rest of the night. You learned he was six years older than you at twenty nine, one of the head architects at the firm he worked for, has a love-hate relationship with his job cause he wants to draw portraits instead, was a delinquent when he was younger but got away with things cause he was a straight-A student, loved dogs so much that he cries when they die in movies, was closer to his mom, got his tattoos on a sudden whim, and was pretty much a sweet, charming genuine person which contrasted his appearance. What you see isn't what you get. That just isn't how it worked with him.

You loved it when he talked. It was rather entertaining as he had a way of telling stories which made you feel like you were actually there when it happened. Eventually, you forgot the reason why you were at the restaurant in the first place. It was as if you went there for the purpose of meeting Sukuna himself. Satoru was all but forgotten as you dissolved into carefree laughter and playful banters, and you felt at ease and more like yourself around him, pretty much like when you were with your three favorite people in the world.

“It’s not really that funny,” Sukuna told you, watching you laugh heartily at that one episode in his freshmen year when he made a mistake of going on a date with the wrong girl who happened to have the same name as his supposed date. You continued to laugh as if he didn’t say anything.

“It’s just crazy that both of them were there at the same time. I mean, what were the odds?”

He parked by the sidewalk in front of your house, killing the engine. “That’s the reason why I have never agreed to a single blind date ever again.” He pulled the key out of the ignition, glancing at the direction of your house. “We’re here.”

Your laughter died down when you followed the direction of his gaze. The lights were off except for the one lighting up the porch of the house you shared with your friends. You returned your gaze to him then. “Thanks for driving me home. Again.”

“I enjoyed your company. It’s the least I can do.”

You smiled warmly at him, reaching over to give him a chaste kiss on the cheek when he suddenly turned his head a fraction towards you. That minute change made your lips end up against his instead. He was surprised at first and remained immobile against you, but when you pulled away, he chased you back, connecting your mouths, his lips feeling soft and warm yet emitting that air of dominance as it coaxed yours to move in sync with his. You were kissing him back in no time, but you immediately caught yourself and withdrew, utterly flustered.

Your heart thudded heavily as he held you in his intense gaze, his tongue slowly running over his lower lip, making you even more mentally incapacitated. It made you want to just pull him back to you and covet those lips with yours again. You snapped out of it though. You already knew he was capable of hot-wiring and hijacking your brain.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you told him when you were able to form words again.

Sukuna looked at you from under his lashes, smiling slightly. “I’m not.”

Taken aback, you chuckled nervously. “No?”

He shook his head, reached over and ruffled your hair a bit. “Go inside. It’s late.” You nodded and disembarked from the car while he leaned on the steering wheel, watching you. You were already on the pavement, about to close the door, when he spoke again. “Can I come see you again?”

“Sure,” you said without thinking. “Good night, Sukuna.” Man, you just loved saying his name.

“Bye, Y/N. Good night.”

He drove away while you made your way towards your doorstep. Your fingers flew to your lips once you were standing on your porch, smiling to yourself at the realization of having kissed him. Shaking your head, you fished for the keys from your pocket and entered the house, not quite remembering how you got to your room, but you slept that night with pleasant dreams of running your fingers through pink locks of hair.

***

"I'm really sorry. Something came up and my phone died."

You acceded. It wasn’t as if Satoru did something so big. You went to the outdoor kiosks near the parking lot by the football grounds to catch up on some reading while Satoru ate and told you bits of his past few days, since he got held up at their family estate. Having such a traditional, high-ranking family in the country sure had its downsides, and you weren't about to make him even more agitated than he already was. He had it difficult, you knew that, and you weren’t about to be petty over him not coming to your supposed bonding time. He may be happy-go-lucky but you felt tension simmering just under the surface when you squeezed his hand in assurance.

Suguru and Ieiri followed shortly after Satoru fetched you from class, also surprised to see him there. "So, you finally decided to show up," the former said.

"Don't ask," Satoru said.

"Wasn't planning to," Suguru scoffed, his attention shifting to you. “What are you working on anyway?” he asked, flipping the file you were reading haphazardly to peer through the contents.

“I’m making an analysis report on ‘The Romantic Manifesto’.” you answered, looking up from the notes you were writing when your eyes suddenly strayed over his shoulder. You almost did a double-take, glancing at Suguru before returning your line of vision at the spot beyond where he sat.

“It’s due…” your voice trailed off when you realized just what, or rather who, you were looking at. You weren’t so sure whether what you were seeing was real or a mirage, a very familiar, specific and detailed one, but then, you figured it was the former when the person smirked and cocked his head to the side, beckoning you over to where he leaned against his grey Jeep as he raised a cup of what looked like cherry blossom tea.

Suguru arched a brow at you, looking behind him but not really noticing the object of your distraction. “Hey, you okay?”

Ieiri followed the direction of your gaze and nudged you when she saw who you were looking at. "Is that your Howard? Damn, girl. He’s sizzling."

You nodded, but at that same moment, you rose from the table without any explanation, your feet immediately leading you towards the outdoor carpark. When you were within earshot, you said, “What are you doing here?”

You stopped a few feet from him, glancing behind you to where the others had already turned their heads to follow the path you took, flashing you shit-eating grins. It wouldn’t surprise you anymore if they had pieced together who the person was before you. They claimed to be your ‘parents’ but acted like children at times.

“I brought you tea.” Sukuna walked towards you, standing so close that you forgot how to breathe for a few seconds as you inhaled his scent and took in his appearance, looking immaculate in a plain white shirt and faded jeans, but your brain only seemed to register those lips and the memory of how they felt against yours.

You shook your head, snapping out of your trance, mentally cursing at yourself. “Hi.” You exhaled loudly, trying hard not to smile like an idiot while you absently twirled your hair on your finger, suddenly seeing the world through a pinkish filter. "How do you keep finding me?"

Sukuna's smile dropped. “Did I come at an inconvenient time?” he asked gently, trying hard not to sound miffed, but he obviously was taken aback by your words.

“No.” You shook your head, placing a hand over your forehead. You finally smiled at him, letting out a choked snicker. “No, Sukuna. It’s good to see you. It’s just that I wasn’t expecting to see you here. And you didn't really tell me you were coming.”

He grinned at you then but he still appeared unsure, placing a hand behind his neck. “Right.”

You flashed him a helpless look. “Please don’t look at me like that. I’m just really surprised.”

“Hmm." He moved closer to you, wrapping your hand around the transparent disposable cup. His proximity was affecting you in ways you couldn't admit out loud. "Are you happy to see me, too?"

"Too? So, you're happy to see me?"

"Always."

That's it. You're done for. Trying to avoid his intense gaze and escaping his scrutiny, you glanced over your shoulder to find everyone on your table observing you blatantly. Satoru raised a thumb at you while Ieiri was giggling with Suguru.

"Are those your friends?" Sukuna commented, his minty breath fanning against the side of your face which made you turn a little too quickly to face him again only to be confronted by his face leaning towards yours, mere centimeters away.

“Y-yeah.” You leaned a bit backwards but he moved forward. “That they are.” You stepped backwards again, nearly faltering on your feet, but you immediately gained your balance when he grabbed you by the arm, steadying you.

"Are you alright?" Sukuna asked, looking at you with concern written all over his face which morphed into wonder when you said, "Yeah, you're just overwhelming."

"Huh?"

"I can't think properly when I'm around you," you stated casually, your expressions not giving anything away as per usual. You arched a brow at him when he did the same. "You hot-wire my brain."

"I know what you mean." He smirked despite his confusion. "Is that good or bad?"

You eyed him thoughtfully, biting on your lower lip. "Good for you, bad for me. You can probably tell me to eat dirt and I'd do it in a heartbeat."

He chuckled, looking at you tenderly. "You're too honest."

"To a fault," you agreed, "Suguru tells me all the time. Wanna meet them?"

He ruffled your hair. "Sure."

***

While you weren't exactly expecting to see Sukuna again after the night you met, he became of constant presence around you. You have gone out with him several times over the course of two months. He was a busy person and you also had your priorities, but he always makes you feel special whenever you two would be out and about, behaving like such a gentleman opening and closing doors for you, naturally shifting closer to traffic while you walked, bringing an extra jacket in case you felt cold or a larger umbrella so you don't get wet, bringing you your favorite tea whenever he could.

He picked you up from school for lunch twice, making the most of the hour, and one time, you brought him lunch at work when he suddenly canceled on you, saying he was swamped with work. He sounded really upset so you decided to go to him instead. You brought Suguru with you as a buffer, but Sukuna's colleagues still teased him. He was different in the office – gruff and strict which fitted him more – but he still beamed at you happily when you brought him food, not caring who saw.

Apart from the brief phone calls, you two never really texted. It wasn't really your thing and he didn't like it either, so it could go days on end without you saying anything to each other, but when you do get a chance to speak, it would always be like picking up on where you've left off. He has only ever sent you two messages. One to remind you to take good care of yourself because he was going to be away for a while and another one a week later asking if you wanted to go out with him that coming Friday night.

"Your timing's off," you told him over the phone. You really wanted to say yes, but, "Ieiri, the boys and I are going out that night. Gang tradition."

"Some other time then?"

"Sure."

You hung up after a few more exchanges of words, getting started on reading some notes when Ieiri entered the kitchen. "Was that Howard?"

"Yeah. He's inviting me to go out on Friday, but I already said yes to clubbing with you guys."

She grinned cheekily, wrapping an arm around you as she poked you on the cheek. At times, it feels like Satoru was rubbing off on her. "Are you sure you don't want to ditch us for the hot architect?"

"Hot architect –" You snickered. "Did you just say that?"

"I was supposed to say 'sugar daddy,' literally and figuratively. Sugar and his cotton candy hair. Get it?"

You narrowed your eyes at her, shaking your head. It was supposed to be amusing, but when Ieiri says it, it just sounds weird. "Can I read in peace now?"

She left you alone, but laughed at your expense.

Friday couldn't have rolled around fast enough and you headed out with your friends at the club owned by a friend of yours, prepared to party in a pair of tight-fitting jeans, a crop top and your hair hanging about in wavy layers. You were already expecting the place to be cramped as hell given the day of the week so much so that Suguru had to hold onto you tightly so as not to lose you when you entered until you found the area you had reserved for the night. It was for good measure too since the place was drenched in purple, blue and green laser lights which were disorienting at first. And so, your night began as such.

You were in the middle of dancing, only pausing when you had to down your nth shot for the night when your eyes suddenly strayed to the bar area at the elevated part of the club adjacent to the the leather seats. You looked away but returned your gaze towards said direction when you realized this very familiar guy was looking at you. He was watching you as you danced and let loose, a ghost of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

You craned your neck, looking back and thinking the guy looked a lot like Sukuna, but then he couldn’t be. He was engaged elsewhere, still you continued to ogle him until you were pretty sure it wasn’t the same person. But the longer you looked, the more it was being proven to you that it was him.

That lopsided smile drew itself across his lips, seeing as how you were doubting yourself about his identity. There was no mistaking that look on his face, the way his dark eyes seemed to sparkle whenever he smiled even if the action didn't belong there.

“Sukuna?” you mouthed his name and he nodded, motioning for you to come over with his head. It had been a solid ten days since you last saw him, and for some reason, your heart raced at the thought of seeing him there.

Without saying a word to the people you were with, you squeezed yourself through the crowd, your feet carrying to the upstairs bar, to Sukuna. It took you a while to traverse the space between you, and when you finally stood before him, all you could do was smile up at him, taking in the soft look about him as he regarded you which were at odds to those fiery eyes that had the capability to turn into bright orbs of light when he beamed down at you.

“Hello, Y/N. Once again, fate has brought you to me,” he said rather dramatically, a smirk drawing itself across his pretty mouth.

Laughter escaped your throat, unable to say anything when you realized that you actually missed him, missed looking at him. Unable to help it, you stood on your toes and reached out to touch his hair, the action surprising the both of you. He eyed you, his expressions that of a half-smile and a look of confusion while you retracted your hands as quickly as you felt his soft locks with your fingertips, wincing at the realization of what you were doing.

At that, he laughed heartily, stealing your hand and pressing it over the side of his head. “Go ahead. I don’t mind you touching me,” he told you, staring into your eyes that you felt like all the air in the room was gone.

You blinked at him, processing what he said and joined in his mirth. “You're here!” You shook your head when it dawned to you that you were stating the obvious. “I’m sorry. How are you, Sukuna?”

“Pink?” he offered and chuckled at his own joke which made your face heat up. “Kidding. I’m great. I missed you these past days. How are you?”

“You did?” You felt your insides melting at his statement, made worse when he nodded to confirm it. “I’m fine. Great. Where have you disappeared to anyway?”

He snickered a your question. “Madrid.”

Your jaw dropped. “As in Spain?”

He nodded. “Had to do something there.”

“Uh-huh.” His words were rather obscure, but you didn’t want to encroach on his private life.

“What are the odds that we’re at the same club?”

“The owner is a friend,” you answered, smiling awkwardly as you glanced at the direction of your friends on the dance floor. You saw all of them looking at you. Suguru winked at you, giving you the thumbs up, making you laugh at his silliness.

“The gang’s all here, I see.”

“What?” You faced Sukuna, finding him leaning close beside you against the metal balustrade. Just then, a waiter passed by holding a whole tray of shots, and before you could duck, he grabbed you by the waist so that you were leaning against him with no quantifiable space between your bodies. Your eyes widened in shock and you froze, your thoughts clouded by the familiar smell of rain in a bamboo forest during Maytime. “T-thanks…”

He hummed in response to your gratitude, but he didn’t let you go. “I didn’t know you enjoyed places like this, too.”

“Why is that?” you asked, feigning ignorance to how close you two were.

"I never pinned you for the party animal type. I kinda developed a fondness for that quiet, nerdy girl sitting at the corner of the pub."

"Not exactly. I prefer Maki's place to be honest but coming here once in a while doesn't hurt. Especially with those three." You frowned slightly at him then as you thought of something. “So, why didn’t you approach me?” You motioned towards the dancefloor. “I'm sure the three-headed monster won't mind if you joined us. You alone?”

“Yes, sweetheart, but aren't you supposed to be hanging out with them?" You grabbed his arm before he could refuse you and started leading him towards where the others were.

However, he had other plans in mind. Again, he hooked an arm around your waist until your back was leaning against him. You eyed him sideways, startled by his actions, but unable to counteract it anyway as you’re just stunned speechless all the while. “You can go back to them, Y/N, but I don’t think I should go with you.”

You turned around, gently easing away from his hold. “Why not? They already know you, and they like you.”

"Are you sure? I don't want to be a party pooper.” He leaned towards you, tilting his head to the side while his lower lip slightly jutted out.

"What are you talking about?” You rolled your eyes at him then snickered.

He eyed you seriously then. “Just in case this is a friends-only affair?”

“Satoru already ruined that by bringing his girls into the mix.” You laughed at him when you saw him hesitate. “Come on, Sukuna. Join us. For me?” You showed him your best impression of puppy-dog eyes. “Pretty please?”

When you saw that he wasn’t budging, you changed your argument. “Fine. Dance with me then.” You didn’t give him any time to contradict you as you took him by the hand and dragged him to the dancefloor.

He was just standing still, looking uncomfortable as you started to groove to the beat, so you took his arms and started moving them until he was moving on his own, finally breaking into that smile. He looked too awkward that you wanted to laugh but decided against it, simply raising your hands and feeling the music.

“Aren’t you having fun?” you asked him as you were bobbing your head to the bass.

“I am!” he answered above the music.

“You don’t look like you’re having fun. Are you shy?” You chuckled openly at that.

“No.”

“You don’t dance?”

“I can dance.”

You giggled. “Then show me what you’ve got!”

Without a warning, he started moving in sync with you, taking your hands in his and finally letting loose in such a graceful manner as you both got into the beat and started waving and swaying against one another, his hands slowly running at your sides in sensual rhythms that got you reeling in excitement. You almost forgot that you were with other people as you danced with him. It was fun and it felt good to be that carefree, not minding your friends, drinks flowing in nonstop.

Soon, the group you’ve left joined you and Sukuna. They all greeted him excitedly while the boys exchanged high-fives with him as they were dancing. Satoru and the two girls who were with him also joined in and somewhere along that, Suguru offered everyone cigarettes, and you gladly took one when you saw Sukuna taking one as well. You didn’t really smoke on a regular basis but you didn’t exactly shy away from the so-called cancer sticks.

After taking another shot, you pulled Sukuna out of the dancefloor, hollering at the others as you raised your cigarette, signaling where you were going in case they wanted to come with. You made your way to the smoking area at the veranda situated at the back of the building with the older male in tow. You were pretty much buzzed, calming down from the high you had while dancing, grinning wide as the cool night air met you, making your lungs expand as you breathed in.

Sukuna watched you as he took his place against the banister, following him shortly as you produced a lighter from your pocket, something that you always carried just in case.

“You smoke?” he asked, toying with his own battered stick, twirling it around his long fingers.

“Sometimes,” you admitted, watching his reaction. “And you?”

“Not really.”

“You took one anyway.” You wedged the item in question between your lips and raised the lighter, but before you could light it, it was pulled out from your mouth and the next thing you knew, Sukuna was kissing you, his lips pressed against yours as he pulled you closer by the hips which he seemed to have a fixation for since you came up to him. It was a soft yet urgent kiss that cajoled you to respond, and not long after, your lips were submissive clouds moving to the will of the wind that was his luscious mouth.

Like the first time you felt his lips against yours, electricity ran through your body as if he was touching you elsewhere apart from your mouth. It was driving you off the edge of sanity, and you knew you’d probably jump off a cliff for the male. He grinned at your dazed state when your eyes met after he finally pulled away, showing you the cigarette that was supposed to be between your lips before he unceremoniously laid claim to them.

“You’re going to ruin your lips by smoking. I’m keeping this,” he told you.

You were too mesmerized with the tingling feeling in your mouth while your eyes stayed glued to his as you blinked slowly, your mind and heart racing at a thousand miles per second. “W-why would you do that?” you stammered, feeling your throat go so dry that you had to drag the words out.

“Apart from the fact that it’s terribly unhealthy, it ruins your sense of smell and taste.” He waved the cigarette in front of you before shoving it into the pocket of his jeans. “Scientific fact.”

You couldn’t quite process what he was saying. You were asking why he kissed you, but he misunderstood. “Are you going to taser me with your lips every single time I’m about to smoke?”

“Taser…” He chuckled and narrowed his eyes at you. “I might just if it means these dangerous things don’t touch your pretty mouth.”

“What the –” You didn’t know if you would be scandalized by what he said or if you were going to laugh. The latter won and you tittered. “That’s a good one.”

“I mean it, Y/N.”

Boldness engulfed your whole thought process as you stepped closer to him, looking straight into his eyes. “And if I insist on it? Placing dangerous things in my pretty mouth? What are you going to do then?”

He, too, leaned forward, eyes flicking to your lips. “Then I guess I just have to keep your mouth too busy to even think about smoking again,” he whispered to you, his breath hitting your lips.

You smirked at him then. “I guess I just have to make sure you aren’t around if I do feel like smoking.”

He pouted. You burst out laughing.

You reached over and pinched both of his cheeks. “You’re so adorable.”

Sukuna swatted your hands away, but smiled nonetheless. "You're the only one who says I'm adorable."

"You are. You just don't know it."

“Okay then. If you say so.” He tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear then, your skin tingling where he touched you. “Are you busy tomorrow?”

“Not really.”

“Good. I wanna do something for you.”

You eyed him questioningly. “Hmm. What?”

“That’s a surprise.”

It was already around two in the morning when everyone had the unanimous decision to leave the club which was still packed. You, too, were getting tired especially after Ieiri ended up hammered and Satoru was emptying his guts through his mouth. Suguru was a bit drunk, too, but he was trying his best to help you take care of them. Sukuna had been very nice all night, even helping you load Satoru and Ieiri into the backseat of Suguru’s car.

“Would you like me to drive you home?” he asked you after shutting the door to the backseat.

“No, I’m gonna be fine. Besides, I can’t just leave Suguru to deal with them both.” You motioned to his Jeep. “You should go ahead, too.”

Sukuna grimaced as he nodded. “I guess that would be for the best. Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay. You take good care now.”

“You, too, sweetheart.” He stepped forward and pulled you against him, hugging you, enveloping you in his warmth and that scent you loved profusely. “It’s really great seeing you tonight.”

You returned the gesture, smiling up at him as you tried to compose yourself. “It’s great seeing you, too.” You stood on your toes and pecked him on the cheek before giving him a gentle shove towards the car. “See you, Sukuna.”

He waved at you then boarded the car. You watched as it disappeared down the street before turning away to enter the club to get Suguru who was left to settle the bills. You found him seated on one of the couches, finding your way easily since the crowd thinned a bit.

“You okay, dude?” you asked when you reached him. He was pale and he looked like he was going to throw up anytime. “Do you need to go to the restroom?”

He shook his head. “Just get me out of here.”

You chuckled, leading him faster out of the club. You sat him down on passenger side and soothed his back, asking after him again as you started the engine. He said he was fine, laughing when he caught a glimpse of the two who were already passed out on the backseat with Satoru lying on Ieiri’s lap while her head was lolling limply to the side.

The drive was rather short without much cars on the road, but Suguru was still able to squeeze in a conversation, and of all the topics he could broach, it had to be about Sukuna.

“I thought Sukuna will be driving you home,” he began, glancing at you.

“He offered, but I can’t just leave you.”

“That would have been okay.” He glanced at the rearview mirror then, checking on the two, you could only guess. He could be such a mother hen at times. “I think he’s cool.”

“Mhmm.”

“And he’s really good-looking,” Suguru threw in with a chuckle. “Just date already.”

You chuckled. “Why don’t you date him instead?”

“Don’t you want to try it out with him?”

“He hasn’t even asked me to date him.”

“Yeah, but he already kissed you –”

“How did you know about that?” you demanded, mortified. Your cheeks were heating up again at the memory of it.

“Well, you’re in a public place.” He laughed. “So, it’s bound to end in dating anyway.”

“Not necessarily.” You turned sideways to look at him. “He’s older after all, not that I see the age gap as a problem. But you know, he might just be passing time.”

“He obviously likes you. If you date him, it’s a win-win situation. You like him, too, you just don’t know it.”

You scoffed. “How can you say that?”

He blew a raspberry. Typical Suguru behavior. “You can be yourself around him. You’re all smiley face around him, too. I saw you. You can’t lie to me.”

“Really now?”

“Yeah. You look your best that way. And don’t ever think you are just a pastime. I’ll kill him if he treats you as such.” He smiled knowingly at you. “Besides, you should date properly. Enough with your flings with stupid boys in campus.”

“Okay, dad.” You sighed, trying to contain your excitement. “I do like him though. He’s so nice to me.”

Suguru reached over patting you on the shoulder. “Ah! My daughter is a grown-woman.”

You swatted at his hand, laughing at his antics.

-end of part 1-

If you're curious who Howard Roark is, he's one of my fave literary characters from Ayn Rand's "The Fountainhead." He's excellently made. That's it.

Can architect!sukuna please call me "sweetheart," too?

If you want to be included in the tag list, please DM me :) I'll be posting every week (or I'll try to anyway). Someone remind me to post the next chapters please?

Additional notes are available in the masterlist, particularly on the reasons why I wrote some things the way I did. I don't know what I'm trying to prove there, but haha!

Thank you so much for reading. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed it.

PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART SOURCES FULLY CREDITED TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

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blackswaneuroparedux · 4 years ago

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Michelangelo’s The Risen Christ: Discovering the sacred in the profane.

The true work of art is but a shadow of the divine perfection.

- Michelangelo Buonarroti

While a visit to Rome’s grand squares like Piazza Navona is at the top of everyone’s list, there is much more to the Eternal City. The Piazza della Minerva, is one of Rome’s more peculiar squares and is a must-see for lovers of Bernini’s work.

As one of the smaller squares in Rome, Piazza della Minerva holds some interesting sites. Built during Roman times, the square derives its name from the Goddess, Minerva, the Roman Goddess of wisdom and strategic warfare. During the 13th Century, the decision was made to build a Christian Church on top of what was once a square dedicated to a pagan Goddess – and so the church of Santa Maria Sopra Minerva was born, a beautiful example of Gothic architecture and Rome’s only Gothic church.

In fact this is the only Gothic church in Rome. It resembles the famous Church of Santa Maria Novella in Florence. There are three aisles inside the church. The soaring arches and the ceiling in blue are outstanding. The deep blue colours dominate the structure while the golden touches promote the intricate design. There are paintings of gold stars and saints. The stained glass windows are beautiful too.

In the centre of the Piazza is an elephant with an Egyptian obelisk on its back, one of Bernini’s last sculptures erected by Bernini for Pope Alexander VII and possibly one of the most unusual sculptures in Rome. There are several theories which aim to decipher Bernini’s inspiration for the sculpture, some of which point to Bernini’s study of the first elephant to visit Rome, while others point to a more satirical combination of a pagan stone with a baroque elephant in front of a Christian church.

Tourists flock to see the elephant but more often than not they miss out visiting an almost forgotten marble masterpeiece by Michelangelo himself inside the church. This controversial statue has resided in the Santa Maria sopra Minerva Church in Rome for almost five hundred years. Indeed The Risen Christ by Michelangelo is one of the artist's least admired works. While modern observers frequently have found fault with the statue, it satisfied its patrons enormously and was widely admired by contemporaries. Not least, the sculpture has suffered from the manner in which it is presently displayed and from biased photographic reproduction that emphasises unfavorable and inappropriate views of Christ.

Around 2017 I was fortunate on a visit back to London to see once again Michelangelo’s marble masterpiece, The Risen Christ, which was being displayed in all its naked glory at an exhibition at the National Gallery.

This was another version of this great sculpture that no one has got round to covering up. It has just come to Britain. Michelangelo’s first version has been lent to the National Gallery, in London, for its exhibition Michelangelo and Sebastiano del Piombo in 2017. It came from San Vincenzo Monastery in Bassano Romano, where it languished in obscurity until it was recognised as Michelangelo’s lost work in 1997.

I found it profoundly moving then as I had seen the other partially clothed one on several visits to the church in Rome. It has always perplexed me why this beautiful work of art has been either shunned to the side with hidden shame or embarrassment when it holds up such profound sacred truth for both art lover or a Christian believer (or both as I am).

Michelangelo made a contract in June 1514 AD that he would make a sculpture of a standing, naked figure of Christ holding a cross, and that the sculpture would be completed within four years of the contract. Michelangelo had a problem because the marble he started carving was defective and had a black streak in the area of the face. His patrons, Bernardo Cencio, Mario Scapucci, and Metello Vari de' Pocari, were wondering what happened when they hadn't heard for a while from Michelangelo. Michelangelo had stopped work on The Risen Christ due to the blemish in the marble, and he was working on another project, the San Lorenzo facade. Michelangelo felt grief because this project of The Risen Christ was delayed. Michelangelo ordered a new marble block from Pisa which was to arrive on the first boat. When The Risen Christ was finally finished in March 1521 AD Michelangelo was only 46 years old.

It was transported to Rome and this 80.75 inches tall marble statue was installed at the left pillar of the choir in the church Santa Maria sopra Minerva, by Pietro Urbano, Michelangelo's assistant (Hughes, 1999). It turns out that Urbano did a finish to the feet, hands, nostrils, and beard of Christ, that many friends of Michelangelo described as disastrous). Furthermore, later-on in history, nail-holes were pierced in Christ's hands, and Christ's genitalia were hidden behind a bronze loincloth.

Because people have changed this sculpture over time; many are disappointed with this work of art because it is presently different than the original work that Michelangelo made. The Risen Christ had no title during Michelangelo's lifetime. This sculpture was given the name it has now, because Christ is standing like the traditional resurrected saviour, as seen in other similar works of art.

It was in discussion with an art historian friend of mine currently teaching I was surprised through her to discover the sculpture’s uncomfortably controversial history. There is no doubt Michelangelo’s marvellous marble creation has raised robust debates about where beauty as an aesthetic sits between the sacred and the profane. And nothing exemplifies that better than the phallus on Michelangelo’s The Risen Christ.

For the majority of its time there, however, the phallus has been carefully draped with a bronze loincloth - incongruous at best, and prudish at worst, but either way a less than subtle display of the historic Church’s discomfort with the full physicality of Christ.

Indeed, it is worth noting that this attitude prevails, at least in some sense, into the twentieth-century: the version of the statue in Rome remains covered to this day, and much of the critical attention the sculpture has received after Michelangelo’s death has been grating. Romain Rolland, an early biographer, described it as ‘the coldest and dullest thing he ever did’, whilst Linda Murray bluntly dubbed the work ‘Michelangelo’s chief and perhaps only total failure’. But Michelangelo himself saw no such mistake. The censored statue seen in Santa Maria sopra Minerva is what we might call his second draft.

It’s interesting to note that when artist was originally commissioned to sculpt a risen Christ in 1514, he had all but completed it before realising that a vein of black marble ran across Jesus’ face, marring the image of classical perfection which he so wished to emulate. It had nothing to do with the phallus. Furious, Michelangelo abandoned this Christ - the one I saw at the National Gallery - and began again. Even given a fresh chance, he chose to retain Christ’s complete nudity.

Why was this of such importance to Michelangelo? Why did he so strongly wish to craft the literal manhood of Christ, as never depicted before? Part of the answer may lie in his historical context: the Renaissance in Italy was driven in the part by the remains of Roman antiquity discovered there; study of the classics became commonplace, and scholars tended to consider the Graeco-Roman world as a cultural ideal, with ancient art in particular being emblematic of a lost Golden Age. Famously, classical sculpture was almost always nude.

In his interview with The Telegraph in 2015, Ian Jenkins, curator of the British Museum exhibition “Defining Beauty: The Body in Ancient Greek Art”, attempted to explain this tradition. ‘The Greeks … didn’t walk down the High Street in Athens naked … But to the Greeks [nudity] was the mark of a hero. It was not about representing the literal world, but a world which was mythologised.’

We see evidence for this trend in Greek literature as well as sculpture: Homer’s Iliad and Odyssey, considered by some to be the earliest known works of Western literature, were likely written between the 8th and 7th centuries BC, but their setting is in Mycenaean Greece in the 12th century. The Greeks believed that this earlier Bronze Age was an epoch of heroism, wherein gods walked the earth alongside mortals and the human experience was generally more sublime. In setting the texts at this earlier stage in Greece’s history, Homer echoes the belief held within his contemporary society that mankind had been better before (what we might now call nostalgia, or, more colloquially, “The Good Old Days syndrome”). There is a real feeling of delight present in the distance Homer creates between his actual, flawed society, and the idealised past.

Indeed, it calls to mind a line I once read in an introduction to L.P. Hartley’s The Go-Between, by Douglas Brookes-Davies: ‘Memory idealises the past’. Though modernist texts such as The Go-Between problematise this, in antiquity it was not only commonplace but celebrated to look back to a more perfect existence and relive it through art. The very fact that Michelangelo abandoned his sculpture after years of work on account of a barely noticeable flaw in the marble is evidence that he, too, was striving towards the classical ideal of perfection. ‘Unfortunately,’ Hazel Stanier has commented, ‘this has resulted in unintentionally making Christ appear like a pagan god.’

This opens up another question – why does such a rift exist between the way ancient cultures envisaged their divinity and our own conceptions of a Christian God? Why are we not allowed to anthropomorphise the deus of the Bible in the same way that the Roman gods were?

Christ, of course, makes this somewhat confusing, given that he is described in the Bible as ‘the Word made flesh’, a physical and very human incarnation of the spiritual being that we call God. Theology tells us that he is fully human and fully divine, and yet the Church have excluded him from many aspects of life that a majority of us see as typifying a human being. Christ has no apparent sexual desires or romantic relationships, and though not exempt from suffering, he does not play any part in sin (which, as the saying goes, is ‘only human’). I think that the enormous controversy caused by films such as The Last Temptation of Christ (1988), which explore the possibility of Jesus having a sex life, is reflective of the possibility that - though in theory the Christian messiah is fully human - we feel significant discomfort at the notion that he may have explored particular aspects of the human experience.

Purists and the prude and liberals rush to opposite sides of the debate. If purists run one way to completely deny Christ had any sexual desires or even inclinations as all humans are want to do, liberals commit the sin of rushing to the other extreme end and presuppose that Jesus did act on sexual impulses simply because it was inevitable of his human nature.

I think the truth lies somewhere between but what that truth might actually be is simply speculation on my part. It doesn’t detract for me the life and saving mission of redemption that Jesus was on - to suffer and die for our sins as well as the Godhead reconciling itself to sacrificing the Son for Man’s sins and just punishment.

Of course, it is well-known that the classical gods had no qualms about sexual activity. It is difficult to make retrospective judgements about citizens’ opinions on this but, as it was the norm, we might assume that they felt it was rather a non-issue. I can empathise with some critics who reason that the Christian God is not entitled to sexual expression is because of the traditional Christian idea that sex is inherently sinful – that original sin is passed on seminally and so by having sex we continue to spread darkness and provoke further transgression. It is from this early idea that theological issues such as the need for Mary to have been immaculately conceived (she was not created out of a sexual union, much like her son) have stemmed. But here - the immaculate conception - the critics are profoundly wrong in their theological understanding of why God had to enter the world as Immanuel in this miraculous way.

Some Christian critics - and I would agree with them - assert that the vision of a naked Christ might make a powerful theological point in a world where sex still carries these connotations. They rightly point out that clothing - and I might extend this to mean the covering-up of the sexual parts of our body - was only adopted by humankind after the Fall, the nudity of Christ is making a statement about his unfallen nature as the second Adam. In other words, Christ has no shame, because he is sinless and has no need for shame. Perhaps what Michelangelo intended was actually to disentangle nudity from its sexual, sinful associations, instead presenting us with a pre-lapsarian image of purity taking the form of the classical Bronze Age hero.

There is another, less theological explanation for the sculptor’s obvious use of the classical form. It reminds us of a time when gods walked the earth alongside us, when they were fully human – us, only immortal. Maybe he wanted to emphasise that fully human aspect of Christ’s being. Questionable as much of their behaviour was, the classical gods were certainly easy to identify with. For Michelangelo, this may have been his own way of embodying John 1:14 in marble: ‘The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us’.

It is here critics may have gotten hold of the wrong end of the stick with The Risen Christ when they point out the odd proportions of the figure: that it has a weighty torso, or the broad hips atop a pair of tapered and rather spindly legs, or even a side or rear view of the figure that show Christ’s buttocks.

For a start, this ungainly rear view was not supposed to be seen. The statue was meant to go in a wall niche, so that the back of the statue was hidden. Michelangelo of course knew this, and shaped the statue so that it would appear well proportioned from the front. If we view the sculpture from the front left, perhaps its best side, then Christ is no longer a thickset figure. Rather, his body merges with the cross in a graceful and harmonious composition.

The turn of Christ’s body and his averted face suggest something like the shunning of physical contact that is central to another post-Resurrection subject, the Noli me tangere (“Touch Me Not”). The turned head is a poignant way of making Christ seem inaccessible even as the reality of his living flesh is manifest.

We are encouraged to look at not Christ’s face, but the instruments of his Passion. Our attention is directed to the cross by the effortless cross-body gesture of the left arm and the entwining movement of the right leg. With his powerful but graceful hands, Christ cradles the cross, and the separated index fingers direct us first to the cross and then heavenward. Christ presents us with the symbols of his Passion – the tangible recollection of his earthly suffering. Behind Christ and barely visible between his legs we see the cloth in which Christ was wrapped when he was in the tomb. He has just shed the earthly shroud; it is in the midst of slipping to earth. In this suspended instant, Christ is completely and properly nude.

We must imagine how the figure must have appeared in its original setting, within the darkened confines of an elevated niche. Christ steps forth, as though from the tomb and the shadow of death. Foremost are the symbols of the Passion, which Christ will leave behind when he ascends to heaven.

Why was Michelangelo compelled to portray Christ completely naked in a way that was bound to trouble some Christians? It was not out of a desire to blaspheme. On the contrary, this genius – poet, architect and painter as well as the greatest sculptor who has ever lived – was not only a faithful Christian but someone who thought deeply about theology. You can bet he had good religious reasons to depict Christ in full nudity.

But it would be complacent to think there was no tension in showing Christ nude. The fact that The Risen Christ in Santa Maria still has its covering proves how real those tensions are. The fundamental reason Michelangelo could get away with it was that he was Michelangelo. By the time he created this statue, he had the Sistine Chapel ceiling (with all its male nudes) under his belt and was the most famous artist in the world.

For centuries, the faithful have kissed the advanced foot of Christ, for like Mary Magdalene and doubting Thomas, they wish for some sort of physical contact with the Risen Christ. To carve a life-size marble statue of a naked Christ certainly was audacious, but it is also theologically appropriate. Michelangelo’s contemporaries recognised, more easily than modern viewers, that the Risen Christ was a moving and profoundly beautiful sculpture that was true to the sacred story.

#the risen christ #michelangelo #marble #church #christian #beauty #aesthetics #statue #religious #renaissance #history #rome #bernini #art #arts #culture #society #religion #sculpture

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uglypastels · 4 years ago

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Soteria // H.O. - Greek Myth AU

(a/n) I know I said I was gonna write this like months ago, and i had written most of it fairly quickly, but then inspiration and motivation kind of slummed and i stopped, but then tonight I was like, ya know what, let’s finish this. so i did :)

word count: 9.6k

warning: near death experience, death, drowning. Maybe parts of this are questionable, but it was based on an ancient Greek myth, so please take it with a grain of salt oki

Love is not full of pity, as men say, But deaf and cruel where he means to prey - (Hero and Leander, C. Marlowe)

Persephone had returned from the Underworld, and her mother Demeter was celebrating once again. The night was warm, and the flowers around the town were in their full bloom as the green leaves in the trees blew softly with the winds.

The city of Sestos had its yearly feast, honouring the goddess of love. As the sun was slowly reaching the horizon, it illuminated the streets in the soft golden glow. The people of the town were coming outside, ready to enjoy the festivities. At the city square, with a fountain positioned in its exact centre, you could hear the lyre player strum a melody. A woman joined in on her aulos not soon after. With music good enough for Apollo himself, people were quick to start dancing around the square, laughing and vocally copying the melody in a complementing manner.

It was a long walk from Aphrodite’s tower to the city, so by the time you had joined, the festival had been going on for quite some time already. Like every year, it was crowded. People from every side of the world would come to the party in the name of the goddess, in the hopes to find their love- even if it was only for the night.

As one of the priestesses of Aphrodite, your attendance was more of a duty than a privilege. You were there to, of course, devote yourself to your deity and honour her, while also making sure that everyone else was doing so accordingly. Fortunately, it would still be some years until you took over the duties of the higher priestesses of the temple. Meaning that all your work was done at the offerings ceremony of the fire.

You knew that you had arrived later than planned, only a few minutes short from the start of the offerings. Stepping up towards the small temple where your sisters stood, you straightened out your peplos.

“Where have you been,” one of your fellow Hiereiai asked as she ripped up the last piece of the sourdough. You took it from her and put it in the final empty basket.

“I had forgotten to flower the anemones,” you said. You didn’t dare to look at the horrified looks you had gotten from your confession. You knew it was disgraceful, neglecting the sacred flowers.

“I went back to do so, that is why I am late,” you explained yourself further, not letting any comments come through. You did not need to hear this now. You had realised your mistake and fixed it. Then let it be history.

And history it became. You continued preparing the feast with the others, as the crowd of the Sestos inhabitants, as well as the guests, were already forming a line. Soon, one by one, everyone came up to the tables filled with the delicious food, grabbing what they wanted. As quickly as they came up to you, so soon did they leave. Of course, not before dropping a handful into the fire that sparked before you. The sweet smells of the meats and fruit roamed up into the skies for Olympus to enjoy. Your mouth started to water, and your empty stomach was rumbling softly, but it wouldn’t be long before you could eat too. There were only a few people left to serve, and then it would be your turn to make your sacrifice.

You handed over a portion of roasted lamb to the man in front of you, not even looking up at this point, being used to the quick interactions. But he surprised you with two simple words.

“Thank you.”

This made you look up.

“Uhm, you’re welcome.” You smiled, a bit taken back. It was getting darker, but the eyes that were looking back at you were clear and mesmerising, as piercing as Poseidon’s kingdom itself. You had never seen such vibrancy in someone’s soul.

At that exact moment, the man looked at you in bewilderment. He smiled at you, astonished at how the crown of flowers complimented your hair. The golden flecks made it seem as if you were sparkling in the setting sunlight. Your shy smile made his heart skip a single beat.

You shared another moment of eye contact before he was pushed forward by his company of friends. That same time, you were brought back to your duty by an overlooking high priestess. But from that moment on, you had lost your focus. As you were giving out the last rations of the meals, you couldn’t help but steal glances at the handsome stranger. You watched him throw a handful of grapes into the spitting fire. The orange flames illuminated his physique, highlighting the lines in his arms.

You couldn’t stop looking at him. Not to put the gods in vain, but he looked like one himself. He had almost an aura around him that made you wonder if it wasn’t actually the Sun god in disguise. No, it couldn’t be.

You ate your meal at the side of your temple sisterhood, but not even the delicious food could keep your mind away from the man. He stood there, across the festival grounds, not far away from the fire pit. A cup of wine in his hand. He laughed loudly, draping his arms across the shoulder of his friend. When he looked across the grounds, your eyes locked. You saw that intense blue colour and froze, as if under a spell. Were the gods testing you? On this sacred day?

You shook your head to yourself. No, that couldn’t be happening.

Not looking up again, you finished your food. The music had been playing the whole time. Still, once the majority of the celebrators had eaten, the volume and tempo went up slightly, making it more enticing to dance again. And sure enough, the square was quickly filling up once more with people spinning and moving to the music.

Not much of a dancer yourself, you stayed seated at your table, looking at a candle that had been placed in front of you, getting lost in the little flame. As if you were put under a trance. It was swaying from side to side in the draft, but it seemed to have caught on to the rhythm of the kithara. You were so caught up with the movements of the light that you almost missed what was happening around you. In fact, you would have if it wasn’t for the dry cough you heard above you.

Still, in a bit of a haze, you looked up.

There were those hypnotising eyes again, small wrinkles at their outer corners. He was holding two cups of wine in his hands, extending one of his arms to you.

“I thought you would like a drink,” he said. You didn’t know what to do, so you accepted the drink and with a soft smile, took a sip. The sour taste went through your entire body, so it seemed, in an enjoyable way.

“Would you care for a dance, my lady?” he made another offer, pointing out to the rest of the festival.

“I’m sorry, but I am not much of a dancer,” you told him, heat rising to your cheeks. You always thought of it to be a bit embarrassing that you could not dance. However, that did not seem to be much a problem, to the man, for he nodded with an accepting smirk.

“How about a stroll around the streets then?” He suggested. This, you could not decline. You agreed to the idea and got up, taking your goblet with you.

“What is your name, if I may ask,” he said as you left the festivities behind you. Though the music still seemed to be only a few feet away, you were actually making your way across the city.

“y/n,” you told him, “and what may I call you?”

“My friends call me Harrison,” he said, before taking a sip of his drink.

“That is an unusual name. Where does it come from?” You had indeed never heard of such a name and were curious to find out where the handsome stranger came from.

“Well, I come from Abydos,” he chuckled melodiously, “but the name is my father’s. Son of Harios, you see.”

“Oh, but Abydos, that is all the way across the Hellespont!” you exclaimed, not having expected someone to have travelled that far.

“Yes, my friends and I took a boat this morning. We will be going back soon after the feast ends, probably.” He looked out, behind him, mournfully in a way. As if he wished not to be returning to his home. It did not go unnoticed by you.

“Have you been here before?” you questioned, bringing his attention back to you, instead of what was going on in the square. It did fulfil your needs, as Harrison turned to you with a faint smile on his lips.

“No, I have not. We don’t get to leave much, unfortunately.”

“How so?” you kept on asking curiously.

“My family does not enjoy the idea of me leaving my duties for a festival across the waters.”

“Are you telling me that you came here without permission?” The idea made you giggle. He and his friends were risk-takers, to travel across the sea without telling their families. Who knew what could happen on those waters. The idea excited you. It would be a fantasy to think of anyone from Sestos doing something so daring.

As Harrison spoke about his typical days back home, the two of you made your way further away from the celebration. The sun had hidden behind the sea, but the silver glow of the moon gave enough light for you to see where you were going. It was a bit of a walk, but you knew it would be worth it for the view. If there was the possibility of him never having the chance to come back, he needed to see it.

And so you lead him up the hill, through the gardens that you forgot to flower some hours ago, and finally reached the outlook on to the shore. It was a gap between the trees, just big enough for the both of you to stand in. Your feet were touching the soft grass. Petals of the flowers hitting your ankles as you took a step closer to the edge. Harrison grabbed your arm, making you look up at him with a raised brow.

“Don’t worry; I spend almost all my free time up here. It’s safe,” you assured him.

“Promise me that you won’t fall.”

“I promise.” As you said so, you took another small step. Nothing happened. He still didn’t seem too sure about this position, but pushing the hesitance aside, Harrison joined you.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” he eventually spoke up, after a few moments of silence. “It is truly a magical sight.”

“I know,” you had no better reaction. This had always been your favourite spot around the temple. It was the one place where the sea seemed to be calmer. As if Poseidon knew that the keyhole from which you were looking at his world was a little piece of personal Elysium to you if that was even possible. You had never thought of showing this to anyone, not even telling. Still, there was something about this Harrison, that made you feel good about this choice- secure. You had the feeling that he needed this—just this one moment—an almost sacred minute between the two of you.

You stood there for another short and silent moment. Both goblets of wine were now empty. Then, Harrison surprised you by grabbing your hand. He made you turn around to look into his eyes, his touch as well as his actions gentle. The silver moonlight made the blue in his eyes sparkle even brighter than you thought to be possible.

“I know we have only known each other shortly, and what you have given me with this view is already unpayable,” he squeezed your hand, his eyes not leaving your face, “but can I ask you one more thing?”

“Of course,” you asked without hesitation. Harrison took a step closer to you; he let go of your hand, just to cup your cheek softly.

“May I kiss you?”

This startled you. It was enough of a reaction for him to realise he said something wrong. He quickly pulled away.

“I am sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“I wish I could kiss you, Harrison,” you told him before he went on. There was no need for him to apologise. “I really do. But I can’t.” As you spoke, you had the urge to bite your bottom lip to suppress any further emotions. The confusion in Harrison’s expression, however, was undeniable.

“You can’t?”

“No. As a priestess of Aphrodite’s temple, I have to honour the life of purity.” Saying that had never made you feel frustrated. It used to be something you were proud of, but seeing Harrison in front of you, it was merely an obstacle that you could not pass through.

“Are you telling me, my love, that we can not show our adoration to each other, for you have promised to stay virtuous to-to the goddess of love?” His hand was back on your body. You could feel his fingers on the material of your dress, pressing in a squeeze as he finished speaking. Your head grew dizzy at how close he was.

“Y-yes.”

“Does that not sound absurd to you? A life devoted to Aphrodite, without being able to show love yourself? It would be like honouring Ares and not being able to wage war.”

“I know, but-”

“Have you made a promise? An oath?” He pulled you into him, his enchanting eyes desperate for you to give in.

“No.” you shook your head.

“Then what would be the harm? Don’t you think Aphrodite would be happy? To see us together?” He said all this with a kind smile on his lips, pulling you in closer. Your hand fell on his chest. Just by the simple touch of his chiton, you could tell that he came from a wealthy family from a different place. The material was unknown to you, but it was soft and smooth to the touch. You moved your hand slowly over the piece of cloth, but suddenly the texture changed. It was colder and firmer, and you realised you had moved your fingers on to his skin. With wide eyes, you pulled away. The way you surprised yourself made Harrison laugh.

“It’s alright.” He said, taking your hand in his and placing it back on the spot you pulled away from seconds before. He held it to his chest tightly.

“You can feel it, don’t you?” The intensity in his voice was mesmerising. That eagerness to show you every emotion possible through each word, no matter how small. “How my heart is beating, how it stopped at your touch? It is all for you, y/n.” He looked up at the black sky with a bright smile, “Aphrodite, be my witness, for tonight, my heart beats only for you.” He had looked back down into your eyes as he finished his bold statement.

Being so close to him and hearing those words leave his lips, you felt as if you were melting away from reality. Was this happening? Had Harrison just been struck by Eros’ arrow? Had you? You could not have said anything for sure, except that you could not get enough of his beauty. By far, he was the most gorgeous man you had ever laid your eyes on.

“Please, y/n, let me kiss you?”

Would you be breaking any rules if he were the one to touch you? You were not prepared to answer that question just yet. You took a step back, closing your eyes for you did not want to see the pain in his. Harrison understood your action.

“Then so be it, but do not think that my affection for you will lessen, my lady.” And with that, he leaned in to kiss your cheek. That quick touch, not even lasting a second, was enough to make your entire body burn. Or, at least it felt like it was. As he pulled away, you wanted to lean forward, match his movements, not let him go. But your choice has been made.

Harrison looked out at sea, his face illuminated in the silver light perfectly. But his handsomeness was overshadowed by the doubts and worries you saw were forming in his mind. You spoke for him, already expecting what was to come.

“You must go, don’t you?”

“Unfortunately. If I don’t come back to leave with my friends tonight, the monsters awaiting me back home might be the end of me.”

“Your parents will get furious?” you laughed at his dramatics, to which he joined.

“Yes. But-” he took his hand in yours again, “I promise you that we shall see each other again, and my desire for your lips-”

“Harrison,” you sighed.

“I know. But I will prove myself to you and to the gods that I am worthy of your affection. I do not yet know how, but I will, and then, you may reward me with your kiss.”

“You do not give up, do you?” You couldn’t help but smile at his stubbornness.

“It is a treasured curse of mine, yes.” He kissed your knuckles before stepping aside, far enough to make it clear that this was where your night together would come to an end.

“Farewell, my dearest, but not for long, as I promise you to come back.” He bowed down slightly before finally walking away, leaving you at the edge of the cliff. The night’s breeze flew by, taking some flowers from your crown with them. Not wanting to see him leave, you focused on the loose petals, disappearing in the dark sky.

In the meantime, as the flowers made their way over the sea, Harrison made his way back down to the city, where his friends were none the wiser of his adventure with you. They yelled out in chorus when he came into their sight. It was his best friend, Thomas, that almost spilt his drink from excitement. It was clear that as Harrison was enjoying that, what seemed like everlasting paradise, they all had been enjoying the local wine a bit too much.

But, of course, the night was not everlasting and the Sun would reach the sky once again. Sooner than later, even. And before it did, they would have to make their way back home, across the deep waters of the Hellespont. And then there was the challenging task of reaching their homes without being noticed by anyone. This was already difficult, and the fact that Harrison was the only one not overpowered by the restraint of the brew they had all drunk- it felt impossible.

Yet, somehow, the men managed to cross the waters in their boat without problems. Poseidon had been on their side that night. The cold air and water sputtering around them, helped the others clear their minds in the meantime as well.

Not much later, they had all reached their homes, and Harrison walked into his room. Though the morning would come soon, he did not feel tired. Instead of heading toward his bed, Harrison walked to the large open window. It looked out at sea. If he stared out long enough, it seemed as if he could still see the warm lights of Sestos ahead of him. He wondered if you were looking out for him as he was for you and if he would ever be able to see you again. With the images of you in his mind, he slowly fell asleep, still in the frame of the window.

Right across the Hellespont, up on the hill, in the temple tower, the same faith had fallen over you. With Harrison overtaking your thoughts, you had left yourself to drift off while looking out on the horizon.

And the both of you were woken up in the same manner, startled awake as the doors of your rooms opened wide. Harrison fell to the floor as he reached consciousness again. It took him a moment to get his orientation back and realise he had, in fact, never reached the bed in the first place.

“C’mon, get up.” Though they were not actually related, Thomas was like a brother to him. Hence, it was the last thing Harrison questioned when his great friend pulled him up to his feet at morning’s dawn. He was more surprised that Thomas was so active in the morning, considering that just a few hours ago he could barely walk in a straight line.

“Your father is calling for you,” Thomas said as he finally got Harrison to stand up, “he wants you on the field.” Of course, today was time for training. Though the sun had not even surpassed the edge of the ocean, the warm air around him, told Harrison that it would be a hot day.

“Yes, I’ll be on my way then,” He sighed, before asking his friend hopefully, “Will you join me?”

“I wish I could, but I have been set duties at the house today.”

Both Harrison and Thomas were the eldest sons in their families, which gave them a significant number of responsibilities to carry. But the difference between them was that Thomas did not have the same pressure as Harrison. Oldest of four boys meant that yes, he was expected to hold up the family’s honour and wealth. Still, if he did not manage this, this responsibility would be then passed down to his younger brothers. Harrison, having only one sister, did not have that luxury- and his father made this very obvious to his son.

Many days would be spent out on the fields, fighting and training. Most often they would not stop until Harrison felt too weak to actually fight back. When he was younger, he thought he understood the need for this discipline, but now… it all felt so cumbersome. Harrison wanted to be more than just a fighting machine for his family. In fact, he wanted nothing to do with the battles that were so popular in his area. In his mind, there was no need for such a thing as unnecessary violence. There came no real honour with winning a duel like it. Yet, he had no choice but to follow his father’s commands.

“Where is your head, boy?” His father said as he helped Harrison up for the so-manyeth time later that afternoon. Harrison hissed out in pain as he felt his arms sore up from the hours of vigorous exercise.

“On my head, father,” he shook the fall off and grabbed his fighting stick in his tights fists, positioning his feet, ready for another fight. He ignored the shaking of his muscles and the beads of sweat covering his body.

But his father did not deem that an appropriate answer. He leaned on his own stick, placing his palms on top of it, a heavy arched eyebrow implemented his thoughts.

Though reaching a ripe age and having already lived through many horrors, Harios of Abydos did not show any of it at first glance. The similarities to his son were uncanny. The only real distinction between the two was the fine lines forming on the elder man’s face and how his golden hair was starting to include shades of Zeus-like silver. Then, of course, there was the beard that he had been developing over his years on earth. Harrison had not been quite successful in this just yet.

“I can tell there is something on your mind, son.” He stood still like a sculpture, but his eyes moved quickly over the fatigued body of his only son, looking for signs of what could be going on with him.

“It is nothing, father.” Harrison let his body relax. He did not want to speak about the events of last night. For one, his father did not know he had run away to Sestos without his permission. Secondly, Harrison did not want to know what his father would say is the fact he had fallen in love with a maiden of the Aphrodite temple would come to light. After all, it was his duty to protect his family’s legacy, meaning it was his duty to court a woman of some title, this way, their land and property could grow. And Harrison knew his parents already had women in mind. How heartbroken would they be to find out his heart was taken by you.

“It is a girl, isn’t it?” Harios was quick to conclude. For him and his son were the same in more than just their looks. He could tell what the young man was thinking without asking a single thing. It was a skill Harrison was still unable to understand.

“I understand my son.” He did. “But do not be a fool to fall for Eros’ mind games. You know what you need to do, and none of that will come from feelings.” He said it with a surprising amount of disgust, Harrison felt like.

“I know, father,” Let that be all of this discussion, Harrison thought and hoped. His father had picked up his stick again, singing to him that Harrison was to do the same. While he was not looking, Harrison took a pained glance at his father. Just like that his faith had been signed off.

But that made him only want to fight more for himself. That evening, when he was finally done with training and had eaten his dinner, Harrison decided that he would not let this be the end of you and him. So, when the sun had hidden once more, and the moon was high in the sky, illuminating the black water of the Hellespont, Harrison left his room. Silently, as to not be seen, he sneaked out from the grounds and made his way to the shore.

He looked around him, spotting the row of boats ahead, and walked on. Taking a boat out held too many risks. Someone would notice it out on the sea, or just find one to be missing in the small harbour. He and his friends had taken that risk the previous night but to take it again, would simply be careless.

So, Harrison took off his sandals and buried them in the sand, right next to a rock, so only he knew where to find them back. Then, he made his way to the water. The waves took sharp inhales and pushed straight back on to the land. As he stepped forward, he made contact with the icy water. It was much colder than he had predicted. Still, he had to move on. Slowly, step by step, he sank into the sea. First his legs, then hips and chest, until he could barely reach the ground beneath him. Not to lose any time, he swam. He did not know how long it would take, but if he kept on going, sooner or later, he would find his way back to you.

And he kept on swimming. It might have been an eternity, or it could have been just a few minutes. He could not be sure. All he knew was that his limbs ached, but that home was left far in the distance now, and at this point, it would do no good to return.

The hard crashing of the waves around him into nothingness felt even louder. As if they were speaking to him directly.

Ganymede. Not sure what they meant, Harrison kept on swimming, ignoring the rough water as it kept hitting him in the face. Almost as if in protest of his actions. It did not matter to him, though. The anger of the waves did not matter to him when his goal was so clear. He needed to see you again.

It seemed as if he had almost made it to the other shore. When suddenly, the water was rushing along some stream with great power, making it even harder for him to continue moving. The waves were holding him back, nay, they were pushing him down.

It became harder and harder to move, and eventually, the waved turned too big to avoid. With each one, his head would sink below. With a large gasp of air, he tried to keep up, but it quickly became an impossible task. One final wave attacked him, pushing him down to the bottom of the sea. Harrison tried to claw his way back up, but it was useless. He had lost his battle with the water. As he fell to the dark pits of the sea, he released his final breath of air. In his last moments of consciousness, he followed the bubbles with his eyes. His lids felt heavy, and he knew what it meant, for his lungs began to burn.

Harrison sank deeper and deeper. The small air bubbles had disappeared into the darkness of the water. Eventually, there was nothing around him but the black void. He could not tell if his eyes were open or not. If he was awake or not- if he was even alive?

All he was sure of were the voices around him—two, to be exact.

The first was the one of a girl. He did not recognise it, but it sounds sweet and youthful.

“What have you done, Your Highness?” she asked, to which the second voice responded.

“I have finally taken back from my brother, what he owed me—the life of his son.” Harrison felt even more confused. Had his father done something? Have his wrongdoings now cost him his life? Most likely, so.

The voice thundered on. It seemed to be coming from all around him. It was as if… it was the actual water speaking.

“Prepare Ganymede, for you shall pay for your father’s debts!”

Ganymede? Harrison did not know of anyone called that name. He tried to open his mouth, but without any oxygen, it was too difficult to move. How he was even alive, was a mystery to him.

But whatever it was speaking around him, heard his thoughts. The first mysterious voice spoke up again.

“Lord Poseidon…” Poseidon? He had been pulled down to the depths of the Hellespont by the sea god himself. “I do not think this is the man you were looking for.”

There was silence. For a moment, Harrison thought that this had been it. The end of his life. But then, he felt a touch to his forehead. Two fingers pressing right at the centre of it. Suddenly, the fire burning inside his lungs seized. He took a deep inhale, thinking he was out of the water, but when Harrison opened his eyes, he was still on the bottom of the sea. Panic struck through him, as he thought he had just let himself drown, but no water came into his mouth—only the sensation of air.

Also, there was no more darkness. In front of Harrison stood two light figures. A young woman, who’s hair and cloak flowed softly in the water, and next to her, a man. He was at least a head taller than Harrison. His long grey beard reached his chest and seemed to have small shells woven into them, that sparkled in the god’s own aura. But what really amazed Harrison, and pushed away all possible doubt about the identity of the man, was the massive silver trident in the man’s hand. Harrison fell to his knee immediately and respectfully bowed his head.

“Who are you?” Poseidon asked, his voice deep and powerful, booming through the.

Harrison wasn’t sure if he could speak under the water, expecting nothing but bubbles to come out of his mouth, but when he did, he actually heard his own voice.

“I am Harrison... of Abydos,” he said, not daring to look back up at the god. There was another moment of silence. Then, the woman spoke.

“Can you confirm, boy, that you are not Ganymede?”

“I can swear on the river Styx that I am not, and have never met, Ganymede.” He bowed his head again in respect to the King of the oceans. Though the water had been cold at first touch and as he swam, with the divine presence, it felt warm, almost boiling around him. The heat, now that Harrison considered it, came in waves. Like a pulse, a heartbeat. He tried not to overthink this phenomenon.

The god and the woman looked at each other, realising their mistake. Then Poseidon looked back at the mortal hero. His wickedly blue eyes gazing down sharply like his own weapon.

“Then what were you doing in my domain?”

Not daring to look directly into the god’s eyes, Harrison spoke: “I was swimming to Sestos, to meet my love. We met the previous day, and I have not been able to stop thinking about her. I wish to see her again before it is too late.” Was it possible to overshare your feelings with one of the mighty gods? Yes, but Harrison felt the need to explain his actions adequately.

“And this woman, does she share your feelings?” The woman glided through the waters toward Harrison, extending her pale hand for him to take. He did so with slight hesitance.

He didn’t know what to expect when touching her fingertips, but it was not that of the texture of ice. However, while it had all its feeling, it did not hold any of its bitter frost. She took his hand and helped him up to his feet.

“Y-yes, I think- I hope so.” He stuttered out. The woman smiled at him lightly before waving her hand in the water. Bubbles started to form around it, creating an intricate pattern. Moving faster and faster, the air bubbles moved to be one broad line of ice, turning smaller and smaller. The woman rolled her hand again, guiding the icy ring towards Harrison’s wrist. It moved and glided over his skin, forming itself to him, tightening like a bracelet made out of the most valuable of metals.

“We shall let you continue on your voyage, Harrison of Abydos,” she spoke, “and you may travel as often as you please. For as long as you hold on to this charm, the waters will help you pass and keep you safe.

“But be careful. My father has eyes on all the waters of the world, and though his eyes are sharp, his mind may not be focused at all times on everything around him. Loose this, and I can not promise you safety in the waves or the currents.”

“Thank you.” He bowed down to the lady of the sea and the god.

“Now, be gone!” Poseidon, who had watched his daughter gift Harrison the armlet, growled. He held his trident and hit the bottom of it on the sand next to his feet. The booming sound evolved in large waves, making everything around the god to push back, including Harrison. He felt a strange, tugging, sensation on his shoulders. Suddenly, he was swept up by the new current and was being carried by the water to the sky.

As he was moving, he saw glimpses of the large moon above his head. Its massive presence overtaking that of any other celestial body in the sky. And it only turned bigger and bigger as Harrison rose to the surface of the sea. With a large gasp, he felt his face finally be free from the water, as the pure night sky held him.

He did not know how much time had passed while he was in the captivity of the gods, but he still needed to take a moment before returning to his journey to the other side. With deep breaths, he filled his lungs with the oxygen he had missed under the water.

Finally, with you on his mind, he was on his way. Just like the Lady of the Water had promised, moving on, Harrison did not feel any struggle. Not only did he not feel the current pushing him backwards, it actually seemed as if the waves were helping him move ahead. His muscles could relax for he did not need to use all his power to swim.

When he looked out in the distance, expecting nothing but the dark shadows of the mountains and forests, he saw the tiniest of bright lights.

Because, as Harrison was nearing land, you had been sitting in your room, just like the night before. Looking out on the still waters, you looked out the window with your hand below your chin. To not be surrounded by darkness, you had put up a candle next to you on the sill. The orange light did not illuminate much, but it gave off a fabricated glow that reminded you of the sun in the morning hours.

You kept on looking out at sea, while also listening for any sounds of your fellow temple sisters roaming around the hallways, in fear of being caught awake at this ungodly time. If you had looked away or even blinked, you were sure you would have missed it. A wave slightly bigger in size than the rest had appeared near the shore and it seemed to be carrying something. At first, you simply assumed it was limber or a piece from some unfortunate wreckage. But no. You were proven wrong when you saw the object- or better said, the person, move. Slowly clambering their way up to the beach.

For a moment you thought your eyes were deceiving you, for it looked as if the person stranded at shore was someone you recognised. Someone you had just met a day ago, yet could not stop thinking about during the day. All you really could make out was the vague shape of the man but… could it really be him?

Quickly you got to your feet and ran out of the room. As quietly as possible, you made your way down the long stairs of the tower you resided. The massive doors of the entrance creaked loudly, but you slipped through the wooden gates successfully.

It was not a long walk from the temple tower to the beach. It was the cliff that made it so difficult to reach, but you had managed to do so swiftly. Light on your feet, you jumped down to the rocks covering the sand, until finally, you could see Harrison lying at the edge of the water. For a brief moment, your heart ached at the thought of him not breathing, but as you neared him, you saw his head move to the side. His eyes opened, and the energy in his body ignited again. He jumped up and ran the final distance toward you, closing the gap between your bodies. You cupped his cheeks in your hands, utterly astonished that it was really him. Completely soaked to the bone, he stood in front of you. His hair clung to his forehead, and his chest heaved with every breath. His eyes looked even more vibrant as the salt in the water had tainted them red.

“Harrison?” you gasped, still questioning if it was him. Not trusting your own mind.

“My dearest,” he took your hand in his, kissing the inside of your palm, “I had promised you my return.” You had not actually expected him to come back. At least, not so soon. Though your experience with men may not be varied, you heard plenty of tales of them making promises, only for them to break them or never coming close to fulfilment.

Yet, here he was. He had come back to you, just like he had said he would. He swam across the large sea just to see you. Did a grander gesture of passion exist, you did not know nor care.

Harrison pushed back a stray strand of your hair, letting his hand rest on your face just like you had.

As you looked into each other’s eyes, a more profound connection was forming. An unspoken bond that could only exist between two people. One that only a rare number of people had the pleasure to encounter.

With a smile, you let your hand down, moving over his toned arm. His skin was still wet from the seawater, but what surprised you was the icy feeling of an armband enveloping his wrist.

“What is this,” you asked curiously. Harrison held out his arm, and you could see the intricate patterns reflecting in the night’s light. Lines curving to form what looked like waves of the ocean. The tiniest move of Harrison’s wrist made it seem like they were moving up and down. In fact, their pattern resembled the ebb and flow of the waves at your side.

“A gift from the gods,” he said. You looked up at him, confused. He did not immediately explain. Instead, holding on to your hands, he sat down on the sand. You followed suit. Positioned like that, Harrison told you his story.

He told you how, in desperate need to see you again, he had decided to cross the Hellespont tonight. How the water had pulled him down and, fearing for his life, you were still the one thing on his mind. He told you the way the current overpowered him and brought him down to the seabed and there… stood Poseidon himself.

You did not say a word, amazed at his story. You kept quiet as Harrison explained that the god had mistaken him for another man.

“I had told him who I was and that I was merely on my way to see you. My love.” His grip on your hand tightened slightly. Your breath hitched in your throat. “And the Nereid gifted me this. It shall protect me from any trouble at sea when I am on my way to you.”

With wide eyes filled with astonishment, you let your fingers graze over the metal. While Harrison had managed to dry off in the summer air, the band was still ice cold. Then you looked into his eyes again, and while the colour should be just as icy, there was nothing but warmth in them. All his emotions seeping through without a word that needed to be said. His hand travelled to your cheek once more, and Harrison leaned in.

Just for you to move away. You placed your fingers on his lips gently.

“I can’t.” It pained you to say those words, as all you wanted was to be kissed by him.

“Please, y/n, let me touch you.” He pleaded. “I have come so far to show the love I hold for you, let me- please.”

You did not say a thing. It seemed to be the only way out of this situation. As you had not given him direct access to your body, you were not breaking any rules of the temple. Meanwhile, you had also not pushed him away. Harrison understood what you meant as he leaned in, but not directly to touch your lips. He kissed your cheek, like the night before. And like the last time, you felt warmth course through your entire being. That feather-light touch made you feel as if you were floating yourself.

And it did not stop there. He kissed you again, just an inch lower, and then again. Leaving that tingling sensation at every stop of his lips. You had been sitting opposite each other, so he took your hips and guided you closer to him. Letting your head fall back, with your eyes on the night’s sky, you focused on the new feelings that erupted in you as he touched your neck. A sound of pleasure escaped from your parted lips, and you could feel the smile that was forming on Harrison.

He kissed you once more, just at the corner of your lips, before pulling away. Slightly displeased at the loss of contact, you let your head fall forward again.

“Will you hold me?” you asked, not sure where the request had come from.

“With pleasure,” he let you position yourself comfortably before draping his arms around you. Together you sat on the beach, arms entangled as your heartbeats merged into one. Whispering about sweet nothings. You had come to realise that not only did he have the looks of Apollo, but the wisdom and wit of Athena. And in him, he held humour worthy of the Muses. The longer your conversation went on, you realised that there was more between you and him than the physical attraction. It felt right to listen to his stories. The feeling of his arms around you was secure and pleasant. It felt like… home.

But, like any good thing, this moment had to come to an end. Before dawn would set, Harrison had to get back home. You walked with him to where land and sea meet. The cold water nipped at your feet, and you jumped.

“It is freezing,” you gasped. Suddenly, his act felt even more heroic. Harrison just smiled sheepishly.

“It is worth it if it means I can see you again, y/n. And I will do so for as long as you want to have me at your side.”

“Then forever it shall be,” you said enthusiastically. Harrison looked into your eyes, looking for something, but he did not quite know what. He placed his fingers tips at his lips and sent a kiss your way. Though you stood far apart, a rush of warmth burned through you as if he was standing right next to you. This couldn’t be further from the truth. He was forming more distance between you. Each step deeper into the water until he had disappeared into the morning greyness of the sky, like a dream or a fantastical story. You wanted to keep watching as the waves ebbed and flowed, but you knew to go back to the tower.

As the sundial in the gardens was the only measurement of time, Harrison did not know how long it took him to swim to you and back. Nor did he know how much sleep he had been losing over this nightly adventure. Still, he never felt more alive. Days went by, and there had not been one that was not spent across-shore, with you in his arms. He did not try to persuade you for a kiss any further, for he imagined that if it was meant to be, the right time would come.

Besides, the true pleasure came just from being in your presence, to have you lay against his body in the warm sand as you looked out on the sea that separated you in the day, yet also brought you together at night.

The moon was in the same position in its cycle as the day you met. A bright silver orb in the middle of the universe, much like a pearl found in an oyster. Some nights as Harrison swam across the waters, he pondered what would be the easiest to bring you. A pearl from the deepest and darkest ocean, or the moon. He had asked you the same question, to which you just responded with a gentle laugh.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You do not need to give me anything. We already have each other’s hearts-” at this, you paused for a second. “Don’t we?”

“You have had mine in your hands since the day our eyes met.” He confessed, kissing the palm of your hand. A warm feeling burst through you.

“And so you have had mine,” you replied. Your eyes were still on your hand, on the place where his lips had met your skin. Your other hand reached out for it, tracing your palm with a feather-light touch. It felt warm.

You felt his eyes on you, and when you looked up, the light blue shine was the first thing you saw. Bright, full of life, of love. How such a cold colour still held so much warmth within itself, it perplexed you. You felt yourself leaning in closer, in a trance with not only his eyes but with all of him. You needed to be closer to him. You needed to-

And so, your lips met his in a soft touch that translated all your feelings and unsaid thoughts in mere seconds. His lips were soft, but salty, most likely because of the water he had been swimming in for all these weeks. The kiss grew stronger, more passionate. He reached out to touch your hip. It was one of the gentlest of touches. You responded to it with letting your hand trace through his hair, almost brushing it. It was still wet, and your fingers simply sailed over the locks.

Harrison savoured every second of this, not knowing which would be the last. The idea of not touching you was absurd now, to not be able to kiss you anymore. If the gods were ever in his favour, they would have let him stay like this with you forever.

But when did the Olympians ever let such things happen for mortals like him or you? The need for air, how unimportant it felt in the moment, was bubbling up in your lungs. Growing until it burned. You pulled away with a gasp. It was dark, but you could see the tint of redness across his cheeks. When you touched it, it was as hot as you felt.

“You are divine, do you know that?” He said with a small smile, which he could not hide even if he tried.

“I might have heard it in passing conversation.” You said, not able to pull your gaze away from his lips. They just looked so inviting. And now that you had had that first taste, nothing else seemed to matter. “But I must say that you, yourself, are… exquisite.”

“How so?”

“I could not describe it if I tried, but it is so. Please, believe me.” You sat up straight. “I have had days in which I doubted if you were even real. A man like you could not be just a man.”

“I shall have to disappoint you, my love, for I really am just me.” He chuckled with his shoulders. You shook your head, however.

“No, it is no disappointment. It- it is...” Not being able to find the words, you looked out at sea in the hopes to find your answers in the waves. You were so focused that you missed the look of pure adoration that Harrison was giving you.

“Perfection?” he said under his breath.

“Yes!” you turned back to him, grabbing his hand to kiss his knuckles.

The next moment went beyond comprehension because suddenly you found yourself enveloped in his arms. He had pulled you closer to him. He was now the one to press his lips against yours in a kiss. This one was more urgent, feverish, hungry. But also quick. The parting felt messy, and you were left stunned. Not by his actions. By your own internal reaction. Your body had surrendered to Harrison, and nothing seemed to matter anymore. You needed him.

But the sun was already rising, and you both knew what this meant. It was time for him to go. With one last kiss goodbye, Harrison got up like all the nights before disappeared in the waves.

The saltiness of the water did not matter to him, for the only taste on his lips that he cared about was you. It was an indescribable sweetness to it. A softness that he would never forget. That feeling and the moment of your lips touching for the first time replayed in his mind all the way back home, and it continued on in his dream. However sweet the dream was, he did not want it to last forever, since reality felt much better now that you were a part of it.

And so, the next morning he woke up. The energy in him surprised even his mother, who had not seen him that full of life in a long time.

The energy also came to fair use out in the open field, where Harrison’s father was waiting for him like any other day. Maybe it was because Harrison had so much energy in him, perhaps his father had somehow found out that he was escaping the premises each night to cross the treacherous waters, but the training was more brutal than ever. It left Harrison bruised and sore. He could barely move his arms. But it would not stop him from seeing you again. Nothing would.

What he had not realised was that during his daily battle, the armlet from the Lord of the Sea received irreplaceable damage. Holding on to its last strings, so to say, Harrison did not notice it needed repair for the rest of that day. And when he reached the water like every night before, the bracelet dispersed, melting into the water. Unbeknownst to Harrison, he had lost all his security in the sea.

He swam like any other night, however. The waters were calm and felt warmer as a result of the sun starting to shine longer and longer.

But the deeper into the sea he went, the harsher the current became. It pushed him off course. Confused, he looked over at his arm and in that instant it all made sense. The bracelet, his protection, had been broken. Nothing was stopping the wrath of Poseidon to take him now. He hoped that for one night, the god would not see it necessary to use his powers. That hope quickly vanished.

No matter how hard Harrison pushed himself, he could not pass the heavy current. He quickly found himself being swept away with the water. A wave fell upon him. It hit him upfront. The steel-like impact made it even harder to concentrate on staying afloat, above water. With his arms still hurting from the earlier training session, the task felt impossible. Though he kept trying. And trying.

No matter how hard he tried, with the current and the waves, any attempt of survival seemed futile. He didn’t know how long he tried to fight his exhaustion, but eventually, there was nothing he could do. He had been pulled miles away, most likely. There was no way back. And the further into the waters he moved, the colder and harsher it became. It was getting worse. There was no point anymore. His body was on hellish fire. His bones burned while his skin froze. His vision blurred with each hit of water he received.

He closed them, immediately your face appeared in front of him. It did not matter that it was only but an illusion in his mind. You were there with him. You reached out for his face. Your voice was a soft echo in the back of his mind.

“It is alright,” you said. A sad, but proud, smile twinkled on your face, “You can stop now.” But Harrison did not want to stop. He tried to push himself up to the surface again. One final bite of air filled his lungs before another wave emerged. It was done. His body had given up the fight. He still saw you. The ghost of your lips pressed against him, but it didn’t feel the same. It was cold. There was none of that softness anymore, it was all gone.

But it was alright, he thought. You were here with him. In his heart, in his mind. You always would be.

As he sank down deeper into the darkness, he felt no pain. No sadness. No remorse. The time he had spent with you was the greatest he had had. For once he felt like there was more to him than what he had been told in his childhood. There was more to life than war. There was love. You gave him that. You had given him a purpose. Something worth living and dying for.

Like any night, you had watched the sea from your window. You saw how the storm had brewed. You saw the battle between the currents. And so, when that evening Harrison had not come up to shore, your mind held nothing but fear in it. But you held hope. Maybe he had seen the dangers in the waters and decided to wait. Maybe he was still at home. Watching the sea from across the other side, thinking of you like you did of him.

You held those hopes for every night since. Hope that he would emerge from between the waters and kiss you like he had once. You didn’t dare to think that he was not here anymore. From that night on, life had become hard to live. Nothing felt the same anymore. Nothing felt right.

Was this a punishment from your goddess? For breaking your vow? But then, why had he been the one doomed to die? Except, it wasn’t really his punishment, was it? You were the one left to suffer his loss now.

And part of you died too that night. For Harrison still held your heart in his hands, and so when he passed on to the kingdom of Hades, your heart, and with it a part of your soul, went with him.

The End

> Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed

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pomegranates-and-blood · 4 years ago

Text

νοσταλγία (Chapter 2)

(Gif credit to @dangerousvikings)

νοσταλγία Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar/Reader (eventual)

Summary: This is a retelling/romantization of the Greek myth of Persephone’s abduction with Ivar as Hades and you as Persephone. The Reader character is a Byzantine woman, follower of the Greek Pantheon/Religion, and a devoted follower of Persephone. This takes place after 5A, but the universe of this is a little changed in relation with the series, of course. Thank you for giving it a chance, hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: As usual, mentions and descriptions of blood, death, torture, injury and people being burnt alive. Mentions or allusions to rape. If there’s anything else I didn’t mention, please let me know. Fair warning that the Reader Character may not be everyone’s cup of tea, but please give her a chance.

A/N: After this chapter is up I’m gonna wait to see if anyone actually reads this lol, and then jsut stick to weekly uploads (maybe twice a week? idk). I would love to hear back from you if you’re reading this or you like it. Even if you don’t, I’d love to know how I can get better! Thank you for reading, and hope you enjoy!

You can feel his eyes on your face as he watches you, and the weight of his stare makes a strange warmth, a strange familiarity, curl at your chest and stomach. To distract yourself from such thoughts, you try offering him a smile.

“Good news, you won’t lose your hand,” You joke weakly, “By grace of…Eir, is it?”

His eyebrows lift, the surprise evident before he schools his features, “You know of the Gods?”

“Hmm,” You reply as you tear a piece of cloth to bandage the now clean wound. “I know of your Gods, but I follow my own.”

“And what do your Gods do?”

You frown at the strange question, but regardless answer honestly, “There’s many Gods, I was…born into the cult of the Gods of the Dead.”

“Born?” He asks, a frown in his own face that speaks of the irreverence of wanting to question your beliefs, but you do not take offense. Being raised by a follower of Freyja does take away the bite of talking about the Gods like they are nothing but tales.

“My mother was a woman of the Gods, and when she was to have me, she had a dream I was to be born in Eleusis, a city tied to the Goddess of Spring. During my naming ceremony, the Elders of the city said I was fated to be her follower.”

“What does the Goddess of Spring have to do with the Dead?”

You relay the same answer you were given as a child, when you were innocent and wide-eyed and in your mind she was only a Goddess of flowers and warmth. That you now know the truth of who Persephone is and who you are to be different is only a detail.

“In my home spring is tied to rebirth. Death and return to life.”

“You hesitated,” He notes, eyes narrowed. You think you catch a silver of genuine curiosity behind his mask, behind the taunts. “What’s the truth?”

Silently damning his blue eyes for the way they see your bones beneath and call out when you fail to be the Anassa your people need, you sigh.

“She lives by two realms; she is Goddess of Spring and Queen of the Dead.” You explain finally, shrugging your shoulders.

“Why not say it, then?”

“She was tricked into becoming the wife of the God of the Dead, many elders in my homeland think it an affront to recognize that title.” You explain, the words leaving a bad taste in your mouth. You take a sip from the cup of milk by your table to dispel it.

“But do you believe that?” The King asks, no tease or mirth on his voice. You are surprised, stunned into silence, and it may show in your expression, for he adds, “Answer me.”

“I…no, I don’t see it as an insult. When I was…when I was the Priestess in charge of rituals, I honored her descent as much as her rising. It was…frowned upon by the others.”

“Well, lucky for you, they are probably all dead now.” The Viking states dryly, but his words still manage to startle a laugh out of you.

You cover your traitorous mouth with your hand, eyes widened and internally chastising yourself for mocking the dead. Still, for a fleeting moment, the small but proud smile he bears at making you laugh makes the guilt lessen.

You lower your eyes to your finished work, even if you still keep your hold on the Viking’s hand. You let your mind drift as you look down, and when you blink yourself into attention, you find your treacherous fingers absently tracing around the edges of the bandage in his palm.

“I saw you,” He says suddenly, and you raise startled eyes to catch sight of his tongue peeking at his lower lip. Leaning even closer, he looks into your eyes like he did on that battlefield, like he can ignore everything and see the chaos underneath your skin, “In the battlefield, I saw you.”

“I know,” You whisper back, enthralled by his eyes that burn like Greek Fire, “Is that why you are here?”

He smiles, lowering his head a bit and looking to the side, a gesture that, if you didn’t know who you were talking to, you would confuse as a display of bashfulness.

But when he returns his gaze to you, you realize you were right. A faint blush covers his sun-kissed cheeks, and you find yourself smiling back, your heart rushing to a fast pace.

“Can you blame me?” He looks down at his now bandaged hand, and you follow his gaze to watch his hand close in a loose fist and open again. “I had to-…”

“To what?” You press when he stops his words, but the King seems to shake himself out of his stupor, and with a small shake of his head he returns more centered eyes to you.

“I have to go soon.” He states, but doesn’t move to leave, and neither do you, even as you reply quietly,

“So do I.”

“What is your name?”

You shake your head with a small laugh, “I don’t give away my name easily, I’m afraid.”

The Viking frowns at your words, affronted and stubborn, “Why not?”

“Would you desist if I asked you to trust a witch’s words?” You ask, although you already know the answer.

Standing up, you smile when you hear his simple response.

“No.”

You walk to the cloak you kept by the door, and turn around to face the King, who still sits closer to the candle light.

“Well, you will have to.”

“But you know who I am, why can’t I know who you are?”

“You know who I am, I am a Priestess of the Attic Greeks. And you are a Viking King from Norway,” You reply quietly, without hesitation. After a few breaths of silence, where your eyes and his meet, you add, “Names complicate things, make them real. And real things are dangerous things.”

There’s a reluctant smile on his lips as he says, “You are a strange woman, Priestess.”

“I have been called worse.” You shrug, taking advantage of the movement to put the thin cloak over your shoulders.

Turning around, you find his head slightly bowed down and his mouth curved in a smile your foolish, foolish heart clings to.

Lifting his gaze to yours again, he nods a goodbye, “Priestess."

You return the gesture, a smile of your own, “Viking.”

____

The Varangians granted Stithulf permission to take his dead within the walls to perform the proper rites, and for once you choose not to question your luck.

Pointed to an area near the walls, you walk to the piles of corpses, and you feel something within you break at the sight. It is not the lifeless bodies being thrown like animals in a heap, nor the smell of rust and death, or the lifeless eyes still looking up at the Gods for salvation.

It’s the blood.

The blood that still flows, albeit sluggishly, viscously. The blood that taints the ground with pain and death. The blood that coats your hands, even if you have not yet touched a single body.

When your stomach turns and you stumble to a stop, emptying your guts on the cold ground that silently weeps with the blood of your people, you can only hope Vikings and Saxons alike confuse your tears of pain with tears of weakness of a priestess sick with the sight of blood, and not a woman witness of the death of her people.

Because even if your heart refuses to believe so, there’s countless Greeks forgotten in some field somewhere, ambushed and assaulted for the choices you made, for the mistakes you made. And they won’t ever have the drachmas pressed in their eyes or hands so that they may cross to the Underworld, they won’t have even a handful of dirt covering their body so that the Dread Lord may welcome them in his home.

“Move them, take them away from the Christians,” You motion for one of the meek girls that in another life would have become a Hiereia like you. “I’ll sooner bite into the fruit of the dead before I let my people’s bodies rest alongside Christians’.”

A couple of Greeks are assisting in the funeral rites of the Greeks that perished, and as you oversee their work, you catch sight of Leofric, Stithulf’s trusted man, looking at you with nothing short of disgust in his eyes.

You try to hold his gaze, but the strange shine in his eyes makes you uncomfortable, like an invisible hand runs over your skin, and you lower your eyes, feeling shame choke you.

It is late in the evening when you are done with the rites, and you sit before a hearth tending and storing dried lavender.

“You heard what Stithulf did to the survivors.” Sieghild states, not even a question as she takes a seat next to you.

You nod, wondering faintly how a gesture so simple is supposed to explain it all. Your failures, your hopes, your guilt, your pain.

“It wasn’t Stithulf’s axe still embedded in Alexios’ skull, mother.” You point out, because anger is easier than pain, because wrath is easier than grief. Your eyes go to your mother and the sight of the pendant with the Troll Cross etched on it makes your chest tighten.

“Don’t dismiss what the presence of the sons of Ragnar does for you here,” She corrects bluntly, the rough edge of the shieldmaiden that waded through pain and blood to survive, “Leofric had every intent of forcing your hand and making you bury them like Christians,” Her lip curls in disgust at the word, “But they fear them more than the wrath of their God, it seems.”

You allow yourself a small snort of what once would have been laughter, ignoring the silver of stupid curiosity and carelessness that makes you wish you could talk to the Viking again.

Instead of voicing such thoughts, you return your mind and your soul to the battle that passed, and asked what has plagued you for days now,

“Have they found Narses?”

“…No.”

“He loves you,” Sieghild states as she passes you the bowl of stew. You take a deep breath and pointedly look down, as if you search for answers in the flavored water. “I would kill that boy if I had a chance, but…he does believe in you, he does love you.”

“I know.” You offer weakly, biting down shame and regret.

“And he clings to every word that leaves your lips, little one. You know this too.”

After a deep breath, you feel brave enough to meet her green eyes, “I know how to fight Slavs, mother. Better than any Athenian I know how the raiders wage their wars.”

“And why not speak out, little one?”

“They won’t listen to me.”

“But Narses…” She leaves the words hanging between you, and you swallow thickly.

“They listen to him.”

“And you make him listen to you, promising love in return for subservience,” She finishes darkly. After a breath, the Varangian sighs, “This will only bring forth pain, little one.”

“The death of my people would bring a greater pain than a lie.”

And now you have witnessed both the death of your people and the end of your lie. The bonds of marriage and the bonds of lineage are cut and lay broken on the same place the last of the Attics have found their end.

“I never deserved to be their Anassa.” You croak out instead with a frail smile that is more of a grimace, unable to keep your eyes away from the fire, even if they burn with tears and light.

“Did you ever want to be?” The shieldmaiden scoffs, but after a few moments of silence her gruffness gives way for a compassionate hand on your knee. Her voice is quiet, her face turned to yours even if you still face ahead with guilt and shame, as she speaks, “Past deserving, past your legacy, past their hopes…do you want to be their queen, little one?”

“Does it matter?”

“It does,” She promises with the certainty of a woman with four decades on this earth, and yet with the comfort of the strange warrior that taught you to heal your own scrapes and bruises, and the steel of the shieldmaiden that traveled the world with nothing but faith in her Gods and herself. Her hand is rough when it cups your cheek, turning you to face her, “Do you want to be their Anassa?”

You offer your mother a small, sad, and ashamed smile, “I don’t know.”

“You do know, but…maybe you are not ready to make that choice.”

“For once, mother, I would love it if you gave me answers instead of more questions.” You grumble, hiding your face in your arms. You hear Sieghild laugh, warm and hearty as always, and you cannot keep the smile from your lips.

“I don’t have any answers, little one. I have been alive for quite a while, but there’s some things that are…at the hands of the Gods,” She remains silent for a while, and it is only after a small thoughtful hum leaves her lips that the shieldmaiden speaks again, “I will find some answers.”

“What are you talking about?”

You lift your head to face her, and find the familiar roots of Yggdrasil on her face and the determined green eyes of the woman that raised you.

“Nothing yet. But I will find answers soon, I…have some questions of my own.”

____

The next day you watch silently as the Varangians are once again brought to talk with Stithulf. You wonder what they are asking for, either of them, that makes this possible. Scarcely have you heard of Saxons and Vikings cooperating, it would be as strange as having Byzantines and Arabs discussing around a table.

Then again, you never heard of Greeks finding death on Scandinavia, so maybe Galla was right and the Gods are somewhere laughing at all this chaos.

A Greek spy takes a seat at your side on the outside of the small hut you have been…caged in for the majority of your time. The woman is not older than Sieghild, but carries the weight of years. Or maybe of loss, who knows.

“The Varangians make these Christians uncomfortable.”

“Considering the only reason we are here is because the Christians want revenge on the sons of Ragnar, I am not surprised,” You tell her, and after a moment of consideration, add, “When the Varangians take their leave back to Dublin, do you know if they will do so by sea or land?”

“My time as a spy is long over.”

You hear the meaning behind her words. With Galla dead, who worked as the leader of your spies and scouts, there’s not much guidance for her people to go on.

The absence of Galla weighs heavy on your heart, even heavier than Narses’. She was the most cunning and intelligent woman you have ever met, your friend, your confidante, your trusted advisor. She was at your side for so long that not seeing her form approaching from the shadows, not having her dark eyes meeting yours with a silent meaning in them, not hearing her laugh as she startles you after approaching quietly; it feels like an empty space growing somewhere within you.

With her in mind, you recall, “Someone I once knew told me once our eyes grow used to shadows, we cannot ignore their lure.”

You offer her a small smile, that she begrudgingly returns. The woman adjusts in her seat, resting her elbows on her knees and looking ahead at the distant center of the city.

“They will go by sea, Anassa. I have heard plans of having…ka-tte-gat’s navy return to their home soon, but not before stopping in Dublin.”

“Good. I want to take advantage of that,” At the question written in her eyes, you shrug, “I want you to talk to the remaining Greeks, we will leave by land the day the Varangians are to set sail.”

“Why? Where?”

You stand up from your seat, hugging the cloak tighter to your body and prepare to enter your cold and foreign little hut again, giving the brunette spy one last glance,

“My people may die at the hands of Christians, but never under their boot. We will return home, or as close to it as we can get.”

You enter your rooms and it is then that the pretend fortitude, the certainty you do not have, the failure and the hope, they all curl around your body like starving snakes, pressing the air out of your lungs and making you falter.

Your fingers close around the amulet your mother left for you. A gift from your father to her. The symbols in the back of it are familiar letter that bring up a sense of nostalgia in you, engraved in your mind before you even knew how to read them.

Bend to the Fates, but don’t let them break you.

_______

Hi, thank you for reading and getting to the end! Would love to hear back from you, especially bc I kinda need to know if anyone actually is interested in this to set up an upload schedule. Thank you so much, hope you enjoyed!

#ivar the boneless x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar the boneless #vikings imagine #vikings #νοσταλγία #νοσταλγία masterlist

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kookie-doughs · 4 years ago

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Y/N L/N AND THE HALFBLOODS

Percy Jackson X Reader -Y/N L/N met Percy Jackson and everything was now ruined.

CHAPTER 11: Prepare For Trouble And Make It Double

In a way, it's nice to know there are Greek gods out there, because you have somebody to blame when things go wrong. For instance, when you're walking away from a bus that's just been attacked by monster hags and blown up by lightning, and it's raining on top of everything else, most people might think that's just really bad luck; when you're a half-blood, you understand that some divine force really is trying to mess up your day. Which was actually what's happening. So there we were, Annabeth, Percy, Grover and I, walking through the woods along the New Jersey riverbank, the glow of New York City making the night sky yellow behind us, and the smell of the Hudson reeking in our noses. Percy and I walked side by side with our hand still connected. Grover was shivering and braying, his big goat eyes turned slit-pupiled and full of terror. "Three Kindly Ones. All three at once. I was pretty much in shock myself. The explosion of bus windows still rang in my ears. But Annabeth kept pulling us along, saying: "Come on! The farther away we get, the better. "All our money was back there," Percy reminded her. "Our food and clothes. Everything." "Well, maybe if you hadn't decided to jump into the fight—" "What did you want me to do? Let you guys get killed? I was not going to leave Y/N." "You didn't need to protect me, Percy. I would've been fine." "Sliced like sandwich bread," Grover put in, "but fine." "Shut up, goat boy," I said. Grover brayed mournfully. "Tin cans... a perfectly good bag of tin cans." We sloshed across mushy ground, through nasty twisted trees that smelled like sour laundry. After a few minutes, Annabeth fell into line next to Percy. "Look, I..." Her voice faltered. "I appreciate your coming back for us, okay? That was really brave." "We're a team, right?" She was silent for a few more steps. "It's just that if you died... aside from the fact that it would really suck for you, it would mean the quest was over. This may be my only chance to see the real world." The thunderstorm had finally let up. The city glow faded behind us, leaving us in almost total darkness. Do you want to see?

Yeah that would be nice.

It was as if it was morning, I could see everything clearly. I wandered my head to make sure I could see everything. This is cool. "You okay?" Percy asked. "Yeah," Not really a fan of the current silence I turned to Annabeth. "You haven't left Camp Half-Blood since you were seven?" I asked her. "No... only short field trips. My dad—" "The history professor." "Yeah. It didn't work out for me living at home. I mean, Camp Half-Blood is my home." She was rushing her words out now, as if she were afraid somebody might try to stop her. "At camp you train and train. And that's all cool and everything, but the real world is where the monsters are. That's where you learn whether you're any good or not." If I didn't know better, I could've sworn I heard doubt in her voice. "You're pretty good with that knife," I said. "You think so?" "Yeah maybe you can teach me some tricks. "Anybody who can piggyback-ride a Fury is okay by me." Percy smiled. I couldn't really see, but I thought she might've smiled. "You know," she said, "maybe I should tell you... Something funny back on the but..." Whatever she wanted to say was interrupted by a shrill toot-toot-toot, like the sound of an owl being tortured. "Hey, my reed pipes still work!" Grover cried. "If I could just remember a 'find path' song, we could get out of these woods!" He puffed out a few notes, but the tune still sounded suspiciously like Hilary Duff. Seeing a tree coming up I tried to pull Percy to avoid it but Percy immediately slammed into a tree and got a nice-size knot on his head. I suppressed my laugh by covering my mouth which made Percy glare at me. After tripping and cursing and generally feeling miserable for another mile or so, I started to see light up ahead: the colors of a neon sign. I could smell food. Fried, greasy, excellent food. I realized I hadn't eaten anything unhealthy since I'd arrived at Half-Blood Hill, where we lived on grapes, bread, cheese, and extra-lean-cut nymph-prepared barbecue. This kid needed a double cheeseburger. >We kept walking until I saw a deserted two-lane road through the trees. On the other side was a closed-down gas station, a tattered billboard for a 1990s movie, and one open business, which was the source of the neon light and the good smell. It wasn't a fast-food restaurant like I'd hoped. It was one of those weird roadside curio shops that sell lawn flamingos and wooden Indians and cement grizzly bears and stuff like that. The main building was a long, low warehouse, surrounded by acres of statuary. The neon sign above the gate was impossible for me to read, because if there's anything worse for my dyslexia than regular English, it's red cursive neon English. To me, it looked like: ATNYU MES GDERAN GOMEN MEPROUIM. "What the heck does that say?" I asked. "I don't know," Annabeth said. She loved reading so much, I'd forgotten she was dyslexic, too. Grover translated: "Aunty Em's Garden Gnome Emporium." Flanking the entrance, as advertised, were two cement garden gnomes, ugly bearded little runts, smiling and waving, as if they were about to get their picture taken. I crossed the street, following the smell of the hamburgers. "Hey..." Grover warned. "The lights are on inside," Annabeth said. "Maybe it's open." "Snack bar," I said wistfully. "Snack bar," Percy agreed. "Snack bar," Annabeth joined. "Are you three crazy?" Grover said. "This place is weird." We ignored him. The front lot was a forest of statues: cement animals, cement children, even a cement satyr playing the pipes, which gave Grover the creeps. "Bla-ha-ha!" he bleated. "Looks like my Uncle Ferdinand!" We stopped at the warehouse door. "Don't knock," Grover pleaded. "I smell monsters." I turned to look at my knife. It had a light glow emitting from it. Probably because it was sheathed. "I think there's monsters." I was now reluctant and sided with Grover. "Grover's nose is clogged up from the Furies," Annabeth told him. "All I smell is burgers. Aren't you hungry?" "Meat!" he said scornfully. "I'm a vegetarian." "You eat cheese enchiladas and aluminum cans," Percy reminded him.. "Those are vegetables. Come on. Let's leave. These statues are... looking at me."

"Percy, I don't think---"

"It'll be fine." Percy took my hand and went in. Be careful and don't look. Then the door creaked open, and standing in front of us was a tall Middle Eastern woman—at least, I assumed she was Middle Eastern, because she wore a long black gown that covered everything but her hands, and her head was completely veiled. Her eyes glinted behind a curtain of black gauze, but that was about all I could make out. Her coffee-colored hands looked old, but well-manicured and elegant, so I imagined she was a grandmother who had once been a beautiful lady. >Her accent sounded vaguely Middle Eastern, too. She said, "Children, it is too late to be out all alone. Where are your parents?" "They're... um..." Annabeth started to say. "We're orphans," I said. "Orphans?" the woman said. The word sounded alien in her mouth. "But, my dears! Surely not!" "We got separated from our caravan," Percy said. "Our circus caravan. The ringmaster told us to meet him at the gas station if we got lost, but he may have forgotten, or maybe he meant a different gas station. Anyway, we're lost. Is that food I smell?" "Oh, my dears," the woman said. "You must come in, poor children. I am Aunty Em. Go straight through to the back of the warehouse, please. There is a dining area. We thanked her and went inside. Annabeth muttered to Percy, "Circus caravan?" "Always have a strategy, right?" "Your head is full of kelp." The warehouse was filled with more statues—people in all different poses, wearing all different outfits and with different expressions on their faces. I was thinking you'd have to have a pretty huge garden to fit even one of these statues, because they were all life-size. I was anxious so I tighten my grip on Percy. It's stupid for walking into a strange lady's shop like that just because we were hungry. For a child of Athena, Annabeth sure isn't making wise decisions. I mean yeah I agree, you've never smelled Aunty Em's burgers. The aroma was like laughing gas in the dentist's chair—it made everything else go away. But Grover's nervous whimpers, and the way the statues' eyes seemed to follow me, to add the fact that Aunty Em had locked the door behind us. Made me more cautious. Sure enough, there it was at the back of the warehouse, a fast-food counter with a grill, a soda fountain, a pretzel heater, and a nacho cheese dispenser. Everything you could want, plus a few steel picnic tables out front. "Please, sit down," Aunty Em said "Awesome," Percy said. "Um," Grover said reluctantly, "we don't have any money, ma'am." Aunty Em said, "No, no, children. No money. This is a special case, yes? It is my treat, for such nice orphans." "Thank you, ma'am," Annabeth said. Aunty Em stiffened, as if Annabeth had done something wrong, but then the old woman relaxed just as quickly, I had to turn to Annabeth to check if there was something wrong with her.. Quite all right, Annabeth," she said. "You have such beautiful gray eyes, child." I wonder how she knew Annabeth's name, even though we had never introduced ourselves. "Percy, I want to leave..." I whispered. "Just a few bites Y/N. Don't worry." He gave me a reassuring pat. Our hostess disappeared behind the snack counter and started cooking. Before we knew it, she'd brought us plastic trays heaped with double cheeseburgers, vanilla shakes, and XXL servings of French fries. I wasn't gulfing down my food like Percy was. Grover picked at the fries, and eyed the tray's waxed paper liner as if he might go for that, but he still looked too nervous to eat. Annabeth slurped her shake. "What's that hissing noise?" he asked. I listened, but didn't hear anything. Annabeth shook her head. "Hissing?" Aunty Em asked. "Perhaps you hear the deep-fryer oil. You have keen ears, Grover." "I take vitamins. For my ears." "That's admirable," she said. "But please, relax." I don't like it here. I'm scared. Be wary of all things. Aunty Em ate nothing. She hadn't taken off her headdress, even to cook, and now she sat forward and interlaced her fingers and watched us eat. It was a little unsettling, having someone stare at me when I couldn't see her face, and I figured the least I could do was try to make small talk with our hostess. "So, you sell gnomes," I said, trying to sound interested. "Oh, yes," Aunty Em said. "And animals. And people. Anything for the garden. Custom orders. Statuary is very popular, you know." "A lot of business on this road?" "Not so much, no. Since the highway was built... most cars, they do not go this way now. I must cherish every customer I get. My neck tingled, as if somebody else was looking at me. I turned, but it was just a statue of a young girl holding an Easter basket. The detail was incredible, much better than you see in most garden statues. But something was wrong with her face. It looked as if she were startled, or even terrified."Ah," Aunty Em said sadly. "You notice some of my creations do not turn out well. They are marred. They do not sell. The face is the hardest to get right. Always the face." "You make these statues yourself?" Percy asked. "Oh, yes. Once upon a time, I had two sisters to help me in the business, but they have passed on, and Aunty Em is alone. I have only my statues. This is why I make them, you see. They are my company." The sadness in her voice sounded so deep and so real that I couldn't help feeling sorry for her. Annabeth had stopped eating. She sat forward and said, "Two sisters?" "It's a terrible story," Aunty Em said. "Not one for children, really. You see, Annabeth, a bad woman was jealous of me, long ago, when I was young. I had a... a boyfriend, you know, and this bad woman was determined to break us apart. She caused a terrible accident. My sisters stayed by me. They shared my bad fortune as long as they could, but eventually they passed on. They faded away. I alone have survived, but at a price. Such a price." Annabeth gave me a look of worry. I knew she realized something. "Percy?" I shook him to get his attention. "Maybe we should go. I mean, the ringmaster will be waiting." Grover was eating the waxed paper off the tray now, but if Aunty Em found that strange, she didn't say anything. "Such beautiful gray eyes," Aunty Em told Annabeth again. "My, yes, it has been a long time since I've seen gray eyes like those." She reached out as if to stroke Annabeth's cheek, but Annabeth stood up abruptly. "We really should go." "Yes!" Grover swallowed his waxed paper and stood up. "The ringmaster is waiting! Right!" "Please, dears," Aunty Em pleaded. "I so rarely get to be with children. Before you go, won't you at least sit for a pose?" "A pose?" Annabeth asked warily. "A photograph. I will use it to model a new statue set. Children are so popular, you see. Everyone loves children." Annabeth shifted her weight from foot to foot. "I don't think we can, ma'am. Come on, Percy—" "Sure we can," Percy said. "It's just a photo, Annabeth. What's the harm?" "Percy, I don't want to..." "It's just a photo guys." "Indeed it is just a photo Y/N," the woman purred. "No harm." I could tell Annabeth didn't like it as well, but she allowed Aunty Em to lead us back out the front door, into the garden of statues. Aunty Em directed us to a park bench next to the stone satyr. "Now," she said, "I'll just position you correctly. The young girls in the middle, I think, and the two young gentlemen on either side." "Not much light for a photo," I remarked. But joke's on her I could see quite clearly. Don't look. "Oh, enough," Aunty Em said. "Enough for us to see each other, yes?" "Where's your camera?" Grover asked. Aunty Em stepped back, as if to admire the shot. "Now, the face is the most difficult. Can you smile for me please, everyone? A large smile?" Grover glanced at the cement satyr next to him, and mumbled, "That sure does look like Uncle Ferdinand." "Grover," Aunty Em chastised, "look this way, dear." She still had no camera in her hands. "Percy—" Annabeth said. "I will just be a moment," Aunty Em said. "You know, I can't see you very well in this cursed veil...." "Percy, something's wrong," I insisted. "Wrong?" Aunty Em said, reaching up to undo the wrap around her head. "Not at all, dear. I have such noble company tonight. What could be wrong?" "That is Uncle Ferdinand!" Grover gasped. DON'T LOOK. Annabeth turned to my direction, "Look away from her!" she then shouted. She whipped her Yankees cap onto her head and vanished. Her invisible hands pushed Grover and and I pulled Percy with me. We were on the ground, looking at Aunt Em's sandaled feet. I could hear Grover scrambling off in one direction, Annabeth in another. "Percy, we have to move!" I shook him. But he was too dazed to move. Then I heard a strange, rasping sound above me. My eyes rose to Aunty Em's hands, which had turned gnarled and warty, with sharp bronze talons for fingernails. Percy was about to look higher then her hands and I instinctively covered his eyes. "Don't look!" More rasping—the sound of tiny snakes, right above me, from... from about where Aunty Em's head would be. "Run!" Grover bleated. I heard him racing across the gravel, yelling, "Maia!" to kick-start his flying sneakers. "Percy we have to move please!" "Such a pity to destroy a handsome young face," she said soothingly. "Stay with me, Percy. All you have to do is look up." "Percy please!" Percy pushed my hand away and looked to one side. I turned to look as well and saw one of those glass spheres people put in gardens— a gazing ball. I could see Aunty Em's dark reflection in the orange glass; her headdress was gone, revealing her face as a shimmering pale circle. Her hair was moving, writhing like serpents. Aunty Em. Aunty "M." How did Medusa die in the myth? But I couldn't think. Something told me that in the myth Medusa had been asleep when she was attacked by my namesake, Perseus. She wasn't anywhere near asleep now. If she wanted, she could take those talons right now and rake open my face. "The Gray-Eyed One did this to me," Medusa said, and she didn't sound anything like a monster. Her voice invited me to look up, to sympathize with a poor old grandmother. "Annabeth's mother, the cursed Athena, turned me from a beautiful woman into this." "Don't listen to her!" Annabeth's voice shouted, somewhere in the statuary. "Y/N carry Percy!" "Silence!" Medusa snarled. Then her voice modulated back to a comforting purr. "You see why I must destroy the girl, Percy. She is my enemy's daughter. I shall crush her statue to dust. But you, dear Percy, you need not suffer. We won't even hurt, Y/N." I swung Percy's arm around my shoulder. But he was too heavy. "No," he muttered trying to make his legs move... "Do you really want to help the gods?" Medusa asked. "Do you understand what awaits you on this foolish quest? What will happen if you reach the Underworld? Do not be a pawn of the Olympians, my dear. You would be better off as a statue. Less pain. Less pain." "Y/N!" Behind me, I heard a buzzing sound, like a two-hundred-pound hummingbird in a nosedive. Grover yelled, "Duck!" I turned, and there he was in the night sky, flying in from twelve o'clock with his winged shoes fluttering, Grover, holding a tree branch the size of a baseball bat. His eyes were shut tight, his head twitched from side to side. He was navigating by ears and nose alone. "Duck!" he yelled again. "I'll get her!" I tackled Percy to the other side. Thwack! Then Medusa roared with rage. "You miserable satyr," she snarled. "I'll add you to my collection!" "That was for Uncle Ferdinand!" Grover yelled back. Pulling along an out of a dazed Percy we scrambled away and hid in the statuary while Grover swooped down for another pass. Ker-whack! "Arrgh!" Medusa yelled, her snake-hair hissing and spitting. Right next to me, Annabeth's voice said, "Y/N! Percy!" Percy jumped so high his feet nearly cleared a garden gnome. "Jeez! Don't do that!" Annabeth took off her Yankees cap and became visible. 'You have to cut her head off." "What? Are you crazy? Let's get out of here." "Medusa is a menace. She's evil. I'd kill her myself, but..." Annabeth swallowed, as if she were about to make a difficult admission. "But you've got the better weapon. Besides, I'd never get close to her. She'd slice me to bits because of my mother. You—you've got a chance." "What? I can't—" "Look, do you want her turning more innocent people into statues?" She pointed to a pair of statue lovers, a man and a woman with their arms around each other, turned to stone by the monster. Annabeth grabbed a green gazing ball from a nearby pedestal. "A polished shield would be better." She studied the sphere critically. "The convexity will cause some distortion. The reflection's size should be off by a factor of—" "Would you speak English?" "I am!" She tossed him the glass ball. "Just look at her in the glass. Never look at her directly." "Hey, guys!" Grover yelled somewhere above us. "I think she's unconscious!" "Roooaaarrr!" "Maybe not," Grover corrected. He went in for another pass with the tree branch. "Hurry," Annabeth told him. "Grover's got a great nose, but he'll eventually crash." Percy took out his pen and uncapped it. The bronze blade of Riptide showed. He turned to me and gave the glass then offered a hand. "Percy you can't be seriously bring her along!?" "I'll go with him." Taking his hand, we followed the hissing and spitting sounds of Medusa's hair. I raised the glass so I could guide us. I kept my eyes locked on the gazing ball so I would only glimpse Medusa's reflection, not the real thing. Then, in the green tinted glass, I saw her. Grover was coming in for another turn at bat, but this time he flew a little too low. Medusa grabbed the stick and pulled him off course. He tumbled through the air and crashed into the arms of a stone grizzly bear with a painful "Ummphh!" Medusa was about to lunge at him when I yelled, "Hey!" We advanced on her. I had let go of Percy's hand to bring out my knife. So if she charged, I could help Percy. But she let us approach—twenty feet, ten feet. I could see the reflection of her face now. Surely it wasn't really that ugly. The green swirls of the gazing ball must be distorting it, making it look worse. "You wouldn't harm an old woman, Percy," she crooned. "I know you wouldn't." I could tell he hesitated. From the cement grizzly, Grover moaned, "Percy, don't listen to her!" Medusa cackled. "Too late." She lunged at him with her talons. I ran and raised my knife to block her talons, Percy then swung his sword, then we heard a sickening shlock!, then a hiss like wind rushing out of a cavern—the sound of a monster disintegrating. Something fell to the ground next to my foot. It took all my willpower not to look. I could feel warm ooze soaking into my sock, little dying snake heads tugging at my shoelaces. "Oh, yuck," Percy said. His eyes were still tightly closed, but I guess he could hear the thing gurgling and steaming. "Mega-yuck." Annabeth came up next to us, her eyes fixed on the sky. She was holding Medusa's black veil. She said, "Don't move." >Very, very carefully, without looking down, she knelt and draped the monster's head in black cloth, then picked it up. It was still dripping green juice. "Are you okay?" Percy asked me, his voice trembling. "Yeah," I decided. "Why didn't... why didn't the head evaporate?" "Once you sever it, it becomes a spoil of war," she said. "Same as your minotaur horn. But don't unwrap the head. It can still petrify you." Grover moaned as he climbed down from the grizzly statue. He had a big welt on his forehead. His green rasta cap hung from one of his little goat horns, and his fake feet had been knocked off his hooves. The magic sneakers were flying aimlessly around his head. "The Red Baron," Percy said. "Good job, man." He managed a bashful grin. "That really was not fun, though. Well, the hitting-her-with-a-stick part, that was fun. But crashing into a concrete bear? Not fun." He snatched his shoes out of the air. "I didn't know Grover got Luke's shoes." Percy recapped his sword. "I can't fly." He shrugged. Together, the four of us stumbled back to the warehouse We found some old plastic grocery bags behind the snack counter and double-wrapped Medusa's head. We plopped it on the table where we'd eaten dinner and sat around it, too exhausted to speak. Finally Percy said, "So we have Athena to thank for this monster?" Annabeth flashed me an irritated look. "Your dad, actually. Don't you remember? Medusa was Poseidon's girlfriend. They decided to meet in my mother's temple. That's why Athena turned her into a monster. Medusa and her two sisters who had helped her get into the temple, they became the three gorgons. That's why Medusa wanted to slice me up, but she wanted to preserve you as a nice statue. She's still sweet on your dad. You probably reminded her of him." "Oh, so now it's my fault we met Medusa." Annabeth straightened. In a bad imitation of my voice, she said: "'It's just a photo, Annabeth. What's the harm?'" "Forget it," I said. "You're impossible." "You're insufferable." "You're—" "You're both loud and stupid." I growled. "Yeah!" Grover interrupted. "You two are giving me a migraine, and satyrs don't even get migraines. What are we going to do with the head?" I stared at the thing. One little snake was hanging out of a hole in the plastic. The words printed on the side of the bag said: WE APPRECIATE YOUR BUSINESS! I was angry, not just with Annabeth or her mom, but with all the gods for this whole quest, for getting us blown off the road and in two major fights the very first day out from camp. At this rate, we'd never make it to L.A. alive, much less before the summer solstice. What had Medusa said? Do not be a pawn of the Olympians, my dear. You would be better off as a statue. Percy and I shared a look. We got up. "I'll be back." "Percy, Y/N," Annabeth called after me. "What are you—" We searched the back of the warehouse until I found Medusa's office. Her account book showed her six most recent sales, all shipments to the Underworld to decorate Hades and Persephone's garden. According to one freight bill, the Underworld's billing address was DOA Recording Studios, West Hollywood, California. I folded up the bill and stuffed it in my pocket. In the cash register I found twenty dollars, a few golden drachmas, and some packing slips for Hermes Overnight Express, each with a little leather bag attached for coins. "Found one." Percy called. We went back to the picnic table, packed up Medusa's head, and filled out a delivery slip: The Gods >Mount Olympus 600th Floor, >Empire State Building New York, NY With best wishes, PERCY JACKSON <3 Y/N L/N "They're not going to like that," Grover warned. "They'll think you're impertinent." I poured some golden drachmas in the pouch. As soon as I closed it, there was a sound like a cash register. The package floated off the table and disappeared with a pop! "I am impertinent," Percy said. I looked at Annabeth, daring her to criticize. She didn't. She seemed resigned to the fact that we had a major talent for ticking off the gods. "Great, well Fred and George," she muttered. "We need a new plan."

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UwU bb I'm just licherali rippin off now srry -kookie-doughs

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#Percy Jackson #Percy Jackson X Reader #Percy Jackson X Y/N #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #luke castellan #Luke castellan x reader #Lightning thief #Y/N L/N #Y/N L/N and the halfbloods #Fanfiction #fanfictions #X Reader #Chapter 11 #Book 1

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alatismeni-theitsa · 3 years ago

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I’ve recently seen posts encouraging people to support Romani/Roma people in the Balkans and that’s supreme!!! With that in mind, I wanted to post about how the Roma identify in Greece (I repeat, this is solely for Greece). The dominant voices on this site are from the US, so we mostly hear about the identification of Romani / Americans with Romani heritage. But what is used by the Rom in Greece might surprise you.

I will use “Rom” as the proper identification for Roma/Romani in my text. For non-Rom people I will avoid using the Romani word gadje / gadjo / gadji, as it’s derogatory towards non-Rom people (it means “being of lower social class”, “barbaric”, “peasant”, used in a belittling way). I see Rom from other countries here using it often and that’s perhaps the meaning has been lost for them, but I don’t feel comfortable using it. In some Rom communities of Greece there is still some belief that being “pure”/”true” Rom by blood ratio is better, and I don’t want to enforce that either.

For the non-Rom I won’t use the words balamos (μπαλαμός) (m) / balami (μπαλαμή / μπαλαμοί) (f. / pl.) either because it means “White” and we all know that is a complicated issue for this site. But it’s worth mentioning that Greeks are usually considered “Whites” by the Rom of Greece, so balamos (m) / balami (f. / pl.) apply. I use the term “non-Rom”, as I think it’s better suited for an English text and for readers of different cultural backgrounds.

I will also use the full words of identification and slurs for educational purposes only and with no ill intent. If you don’t know much about Rom identification, you can’t know what words not to use if you don’t see anything more than the first letter! (And also “just google it”, especially for information on the communities of Greece, rarely helps foreigners). Also, whatever I am writing comes from my own experiences and may not apply to all the Rom communities of Greece.

The popular identification and self identification of the Rom in Greece is tsiganos (τσιγγάνος) (m), tsigana (τσιγγάνα) (f), tsigani (τσιγγάνοι) (pl.). Yes, I know, it’s the word Rom from many countries tell you to never use. And please, don’t use it for Rom from the US or anywhere else Rom don’t want to be called that! But in Greece the identification has stuck and it’s not a slur (as of 2021). In fact, it’s currently acceptable for Rom and non-Rom to use in private and public life. This is how they introduce their heritage, or, if offer a service/sell anything they have made, they use the term to describe it - when speaking in Greek.

I will give examples from a PDF availiable online, the Greek-Romani Lexicon, written by the Rom (and Rom speaker) Ioannis. Georg. Alexiou. (2000s) (Find it >> here <<). He has collected phrases and words from different Rom communities in Greece and he includes the entry Τσιγγάνος (tsiganos) as simply meaning “Rom” and. He repeatedly uses the word Tσιγγάνος for any Rom (seen in the pic) , “Τσιγγανιά” for “Romanipen” (seen in the pic), and “Τσιγγάνικη” to describe the language, when he describes in the Greek language.

One of the many examples is the introduction of a Rom contestant in Greece’s Next Top Model (2020), where she identifies herself as “tsigana” and the other Rom women as “tsiganes” more than five times (0:13, 4:23 ++) and there is also no problem when non Rom use the term for her in front of her (5:12, 7:04, 7:08 ++) Yes, the judges are not the most knowledgeable people when it comes to the Rom culture(s) in Greece but I am using the example for demonstration purposes. Also notice all the people in the comments who use it naturally (search the words “τσιγγάνα”, “τσιγγάνοι”). No, they are not hate comments and they don’t use it as a slur. (Google translate exists, just translate them to make sure). >> Link to the video <<

Using it is not offensive to the Rom of Greece. It’s likely the most suitable word, as of 2021. (You will see later why the other terms don’t apply that much and/or might be confusing). Tsiganos is a word like any other, and yes, it can be used in a derogatory way, the way the word “woman” can be used in a derogatory way by sexists. It’s only about the tone and intent, and not about the etymology of the word. And, speaking about the etymology, you might already know that the word “tsiganos” comes from the Greek word αθίγγανος (athiganos) can mean “untouchable” / “not to be touched”. But it might not have come from the (indeed) bigoted Greeks around them.

The Greek philologist Dikaios Vagiakos (Δικαίος Βαγιακάκος) tells us that Athigganoi was called the religious group Melchizedekites (Manichaists) or Katharoi in Greek (”Clean ones”). The Athiganoi were practicing divination, and so it came that whoever was practicing divination at the time was also called Athiganos. (The word just stuck and the meaning left, because a divination practitioner wasn’t considered actually unclean). When the Rom came to the area, they also practiced divination, so they also were given that name. (Source in Greek - sorry it was super hard to find anything in English, as many parts of Greek history are obscure to the world).

No matter the origins, people in Greece (including the Rom) rarely know what it means (if you live in Greece, you must be very interested in linguistics to dig it up), as the meaning has been been lost in time for the Greek residents. It’s like the world “girl“ (κοπέλα) in Greece, which comes from the word “slave”, but Greek speakers use it because they have forgotten the meaning and have no idea where it comes from.

Roma (f) / Romis (m) / Rom (m. / pl.), Romalen (pl.), is many times the term the Roma of Greece use to refer to themselves in their own language (Romani / Tsigganika). In this article (where the word tsigganos / tsigganikos is again used casually, as various Greek articles) we find the word “Ρόμης” for the Rom man (and it can also be used as “husband”).

Greek speakers don’t use "Rom” and when they hear it they mostly get confused. “Rum” was the name of the regions were Greeks lived inside the Ottoman empire so that complicates things further for Greek speakers, as Rom and Rum sound very similar. What is more, the Hellenic region of the Byzantine Empire was called Romania, adding another “Rom-” to the Greek history.

“Roma” (singular and plural) is gaining popularity amongst the Greek Rom and Greeks alike. But still falls far behind “tsiganos“.

“Gyftos” (Γύφτος) (”Gypsy” in English) is a negative/derogatory term for the Greek Rom. Implying someone is from Egypt is not bad on its own, but the word has been weaponized against the Rom of Greece by the Greek speakers. What is also important, is that a lot of times “gyftos“ ISN’T meant to describe a Rom. This doesn’t make it any less of a slur against the Rom, but let me explain its other use. Greeks often use it for dirty, homeless people (and not those who beg for money necessarily). Of course, that is probably because historically the Greeks saw Rom people that way, and then they attached the stereotypical negative traits to other people. What is peculiar is that I’ve heard Greeks say “gyftos is the guy you see with rags on the street, Greek or not. The nomadic people are called Tsigganoi! It’s a different thing!”. So yes, anyone, even a super pasty Greek can also be called “gyftos”. It’s just worth mentioning that some Greek speakers have the word “gyftos” detached from the Rom (because meaning is lost and diverted as time passes) and so if you hear that word from a Greek, better ask them what they mean and if they know the origins of the word. There is a chance they might not actually know.

To my knowledge, the word “Romani” is not often used to identify a Rom person in Greece. I’ve only heard it for the language. But, again, I can’t know what happens in all Rom communities of Greece (and there are many, with different linguistic influences). “Romani” as someone’s identification is very slowly gaining some popularity among the Greeks because it’s used in nearby countries - and even because of the influence from the US. But still, it’s mostly among the Greeks and not the Rom. (At this point, I should also say that many Rom feel Greek and most have a Greek citizenship, I just that that distinction inside the Greek borders for simplicity’s sake.)

That’s all! Keep in mind that the identification of Rom in Greece might change the next decades, so always be aware of the changes and, if you can’t find any information simply ask the Rom person how they wish to be called!

>> Anyone can interact but if you are not part of or not close to a Rom community of *Greece*, I advise you against of trying to “correct” anything. This isn’t about your experiences or ways of expression. It’s about the Rom of Greece.

>> Rom from Greece or/and people close to a Rom community of Greece can, of course, add or correct stuff - always with respect to Rom sources and voices from Greece.

#rom of greece #modern greece #identification

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seacollectsrivers · 3 years ago

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tagged by @whenwinterfell (thank u!! for once i'm doing one of these haha)

1. what do you prefer to be called name-wise? Bo or birthname (if u know me irl).

2. when is your birthday? march 12 babeeey

3. where do you live? Oschlo!

4. three things you are doing right now? Contemplating dinner, drinking ill-advised late coffee, and staring at my TBB (i've written 150 words! go team!)

5. four fandoms that have peaked your interest? I'm gonna interpret as "interested in the media itself": Lupin III, Ted Lasso, M*A*S*H, Succession (but like, not to watch? it's very entertaining to observe from an outsider perspective lmao).

6. how has the pandemic been treating you? Eh. I was already in a not-good place before lockdown, idk how much better I would've been without (honestly, it kinda gave me a valid excuse to isolate myself). And I've been lucky in that none of my loved ones ever contracted it. But now... I just want to hug my friends :( I've needed a proper, good hug for at least nine months.

7. a song you can’t stop listening to right now? B-B-B-B-BUSINESS MAN, WHY DOES HE HAVE A GUN

8. recommend a movie: Mirrormask!

9. how old are you? Five and twenty 🤙🤙🤙

10. school, university, occupation, other? Oh, i'm mooching of the state, I am. I applied for a job with Corona (the beer) to be a ~mystery shopper~ which just means I'll travel to bars, buy a Corona beer, and check that they're presenting it properly khdjfhd IDEAL.

11. do you prefer heat or cold? Cold, actually! It's easier for me to bundle up than dress for the heat, and easier to sleep too.

12. name one fact others may not know about you: uuuuh... by way of having to read maps for my mother once when we travelled to Greece and she rented a car, I used to be able to read Greek (i didn't know the language, beyond normal greetings and thank you and such! But I knew the alphabet. I've forgotten it unfortch).

13. are you shy? Depends heavily on the situation, but 8/10 no. I used to be.

14. preferred pronouns? i say they/he, but really anything goes as long as it isn't she/her.

15. biggest pet peeves? i don't deal with this anymore, but when i worked in a cafe the amount of men (ALWAYS men, always 50+ y/o) who would touch baked goods with their bare hands, put down what they didn't want and pick up a new one?? BOILS THE BLOOD. there are TONGS, there are SEVERAL TONGS.

16. what is your favourite “dere” type? Di Derre

17. rate your life from 1-10: like. my brain is not doing me any favours and i've interrupted TWO higher educations I really wanted to do because of it, but? I'm ok financially, I've a family who loves AND supports me, all the friends I've reached out to have had no qualms taking up contact again. so. 7/10 also.

18. what’s your main blog?

19. list your sideblogs and what they’re used for: i could never

20. is there something people need to know about you before becoming friends? i annoyingly tend to send my friends long youtube videos i really like. but i don't really expect anyone to watch them, it's just on the off-chance.

tagging: @imaslowlearner-butilearn @calamitys-child @midweekblues @boilyerheid

#di derre is a joke. i also do not know what a ''dere'' is #di derre is a band their name means (ish) those there #long post #as always: no pressure to do this #i probably don't have to say that but lol

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pftones3482 · 3 years ago

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Commission for @extrasensorious-zoroark, who asked for a Luca and Lance fic. Gotta admit, this one was a little tougher for me, just because we have less than an episode of content with Luca, but overall I think it turned out well.

Set post-Voltron, is otherwise canon compliant (sorry, couldn't think of a good excuse to keep Allura alive within the word limit). Under a cut for length.

When word reached the paladins that Luka hadn’t, in fact, been lost to them like they had thought, it was a stampede to make it to the med bay, with Romelle at the head of the group.

Lance thought Romelle might have felt a bit responsible for Luka’s death – she was, after all, the last one who had spoken to her before Honerva had done…whatever it was she had done to kill her. She’d spent the majority of their time in space looking guilty, and nothing anyone said could snap her out of it.

After Allura’s death, of course, Lance had sat down with her, and they’d done nothing more than just sit silently and cling to each other.

Now, as they gathered outside the med wing in the Garrison, Lance leaned over to Shiro. “How-?”

Shiro shook his head. “No idea,” he murmured. “Doctors didn’t say what changed, just that she suddenly revived right after we left for space.”

“And they didn’t tell us?” Romelle snapped.

Shiro’s hand fell on her shoulder and squeezed. “We had to have our focus elsewhere,” he said, and Lance watched her expression relax.

The doctor appeared at the door, looking weary. “Thank you all for coming,” she said. “I’m Dr. Reynolds. Luka is stable, has been for several weeks, but she still refuses to speak to anyone. With Honerva gone, we don’t believe her at risk for relapsing and suffering as she did prior. We still think it best if familiar faces be let in.”

Her gaze turned to Romelle and then to Lance and he blinked, lifting his hands in front of his chest instantly. “She doesn’t know me, she-”

He remembered, then, the marks on his face, and his gut twisted. “N-No, I’m not-”

Romelle’s hand gripped his elbow. “Please, Lance,” she murmured, her voice cracking. “I need an ally in there. Just in case.”

He slumped, offering a weak smile. “Sure. Sure, I’ll go.”

He glanced back at his teammates as Dr. Reynolds led them inside, and they all gave him sad smiles that did nothing to quell the churning in his stomach.

When Luka laid eyes on the pair, she scowled and flung her pillow at them. Romelle and Lance both dodged easily, and the other Altean hissed at the doctor. “No. Anyone but them,” she spat.

Dr. Reynolds nodded quickly. “Of course. Another time, then.”

Despite not wanting to come inside in the first place, Lance felt his gut sink. He’d been feeling pretty useless since Allura, uncertain, and despite their history, he’d been hoping that maybe, just maybe Luka could’ve been helped. To see that she wouldn’t even try? That hurt.

He hesitated to follow Romelle out the door, setting his hand on the frame as he looked back to her and searched her stony expression. “Well. We’re here, if you need.”

She flipped him off.

He went back two days later, some of Hunk’s fresh gumbo cradled in his hands, and hesitated outside her door. Lance hadn’t told anyone he was planning to come here, so if he got the steaming stew thrown back in his face, he’d have a lot of explaining to do.

Luka was reading something on a tablet when he leaned in the door, tapping his knuckles on the frame and offering her a weak smile as she looked up. “Um. Hey. I brought you some not-hospital food, if you want it?” he offered, holding up the bowl and spoon. “Fresh from my teammate Hunk.”

Luka sneered. “Oh, you mean from the people who only destroyed my home planet? The ones who now keep me imprisoned here? No thank you.”

Lance shifted on his feet. “W-Well if you decide you want it, I’ll just…”

He set it down on the dresser at the end of her bed and gave her what he knew was more of a grimace than a smile before bolting back to the hallway.

When he walked by later, the gumbo was gone and the bowl was outside waiting for pickup with the rest of her dishes.

Lance didn’t know if she’d eaten it or thrown it away, but something like hope lifted in his chest.

~~ “Dr. Reynolds said you liked reading,” Lance said, standing in the doorway of Luka’s hospital room with his arms piled high with Earth books that had survived the war. “I brought some of my favorites from…from before.”

Luka lowered her tablet and frowned. “You keep coming here. Stop.”

Lance licked his lips and set the books down, refusing to be swayed. “This one here is about the Greek gods? They were these ancient gods that people used to worship, a-and the book is about their kids. And this book is about a girl who is a necromancer – that’s like, a person who can raise the dead. And she gets sent to a group home cause people think she’s insane, but actually the whole group home is just teenagers with powers. A-And this one is-”

“Paladin,” Luka snapped, and Lance jumped in surprise. She softened, setting her tablet on her lap. “Stop. I don’t…”

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose with her fingers. Her marks glowed faintly. “Your team…destroyed my home. It doesn’t matter how kind you act towards me, you will always be the people who killed my family. Just…stop. Please.”

Lance winced, thumbing the cover of The Hunger Games absentmindedly. “Luka, I’m sorry. We didn’t do that, though. We never hurt your home. Honerva brainwashed you to-”

The tablet shattered against the wall next to his face with a sickening sound and Lance jolted away, the book smacking the floor next to the broken glass. Luka’s cheeks were bright red and her eyes were filled with tears, the sight of which made Lance's chest ache. “Don’t you ever speak her name, you little-”

Lance threw his hands up, backpedaling out of the room before she could say more. His heart was beating fast, too fast, too hard, and he was back to their paladin wing by the time he realized he was crying too.

Despite Dr. Reynolds advising against it, Lance kept bringing her food. Kept bringing her books, especially when he noticed the slightly dog-eared pages of the ones she claimed to have never touched. He never spoke to her, just dropped off Hunk’s latest cooking endeavor and a new set of books, and then took the read ones back to the library.

His teammates noticed, of course they did, and eventually Lance found Keith at his side, pulling down books at the library and handing them over silently, Pidge knocking on his door late at night with a novel she’d just finished in her hands, Hunk approaching him with more Altean themed dishes. He appreciated the efforts more than they could ever know, more than he could tell them.

Luka was lost, just like he was. She’d lost so much, in such a short span of time, and Lance understood that pain. He just wanted her to realize that there were others in the Garrison who understood what she was feeling. Needed her to realize it.

He’d be damned if he let her spend her whole life locked up here. Not after getting it back.

“Your friend is a good cook,” Luka said as Lance set down the Mexican food Hunk had made that day. He blinked, not having expected her to talk, and looked up. Luka offered him what could only be called a grimace. “He um…knows his way around the kitchen. The Fineom he made the other day…that was an Altean dish.”

Lance nodded, turning to face her. “Yeah. Coran showed him how.”

She pursed her lips. “Coran is…the orange haired Altean, yes?”

“Yes,” Lance confirmed. “Hunk wanted to broaden his cooking horizons, and Coran knows some of the oldest recipes. He’s awful in the kitchen though,” he said with a chuckle.

Luka’s lips twitched in what look suspiciously like a smile, and she looked down at the book on her lap – To Kill a Mockingbird. She’d long since stopped hiding that she was reading the books Lance was bringing her. “Your world is so young,” she murmured, which was a shift in topic Lance wasn’t expecting. “You have dealt with so much that Alteans had forgotten ever happened on our world.”

Lance looked back to the book and hummed. “Yeah. We’ve come a long way. Got a long way to go. Cleaning up after the war is helping with that, shockingly,” he laughed. “Humans were pretty blind to everything outside our solar system – I think finally being able to interact with other planets made us realize how stupid and petty we all were.”

“Pettiness and stupidity occur no matter how old the planet,” Luka said, and her tone was bitter.

When she looked up, her eyes searched Lance’s with a depth he couldn’t fathom. His mouth went dry, and she shut the book. “May I…join you for lunch today? In the canteen? W-With you and your friends? I think…”

She put the book down and clasped her hands together. “I think I’m tired. Of eating alone and being stupid.”

Lance felt his face relax into a smile, and he held out an arm for her to cling to. “You were never stupid. But you’re welcome to join us – I and my teammates would really enjoy that.”

She reached out with a tentative smile and took his elbow.

#my writing #voltron #voltron: legendary defender #writing commissions #my commissions #lance vld #luca vld

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bornofbloodandwater · 3 years ago

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Pros and Cons of Dating my Muse

Name: Xiomara Aurelius Athanas

Race: Siren / Greek

Sexuality: Bisexual Biromantic (but uh...well you’ll see)

-List all the Pros and Cons of a relationship with your Muse below-

XIO IS DATING YOUR MUSE BUT IT IS MY GOBLIN CHILD AND SHE LOVES NOBODY UNTIL SHE’S BASICALLY MARRIED TO THEM. DO NOT ENTER EXPECTING REALLY ENCOURAGING PROS, THIS WAS HARDER THAN IT LOOKS TO COME UP WITH GOOD REASONS TO DATE XIOMARA.

Pros

1. Thoughtful of your emotions and needs, Xiomara can be very attentive. Paying extremely close attention to what makes you shine for her. Ignoring the fact that this is because she is being her temptress self, she gets joy out of creating such wonderful highs for others. You’ll feel like you are on a pedestal being lavished by a Goddess, but are you there because she wants you? Or because she wants to revel in her power over something beautiful? (If she truly cares about you she’ll let you read what SHE needs and let you see her in true moments of joy and pain.)

2. Xiomara is a fairly peaceful person in her downtime and very comforting to be around! If you’re permitted to be around her when she’s at home (which, her lengthier flings are) you’ll find a very serene life. Breakfast in the warming morning sun with a book in hand, trips to markets to sell what she grows in her gardens, yoga, naps, making bread and pastries, all between her adoring you, embracing you, pleasing you.

3. Extremely loyal, she’ll stand for you against anything. No stranger to slinging a cheeky quip at creeps any more than she is to tearing them apart, and she’ll do it all for you. Her loyalty extends even to more arbitrary relationships, while you’re around at least. If you have her undying loyalty even after an absence, you’re something special, she’s not forgotten you, she cares.

4. Xio wants to bring you around the world with her, take you on adventures, treat you to the best experiences life has to offer. She likes to keep those she enjoys the company of very close. So if you’ve ever wanted to see the world in all its glory for free, you’ve landed the right Murderous Sea Idiot.

5. Large breasts. That is all. (Yes I am struggling more with Pros than I am with Cons.) As a serious answer, she’s not quick to panic, she is level-headed, intuitive, discerning. If you are panicked or afraid or stressed about something she’ll come up with solutions to help with calm words and a controlled manner. It is very soothing if you find yourself in trouble fairly often or are an anxious person!

6. Xio is an unbelievably good cook and she WANTS to cook for you. There is no sense of obligation in her offering to treat you to anything you want. In fact, if she really cares about you (everything she does has a little bit of backwardness to it) she’ll make you whatever SHE wants. It is a sign that she isn’t trying to charm you, she’s not putting on the show and the flash to distract you from who she is.

7. Due to the society in which Xiomara was raised, she is extremely open-minded. She won’t be phased by any expression of gender, identity, preferences, any combination or presentation of any of those facets. You are a person to her in the end, she wants your experience, your energy, your desires. She wants to see you happy and thriving. She’s far weirder than most and loves embracing everything that makes someone just a little different. If she’s unfamiliar or wants more clarity she will ask if it is alright to ask questions and respect any answer you give her. Some mystery is certainly not the worst, in fact, she respects secrets and the unexplained. After all, she has many secrets herself. Yes, this open mind does extend to kinks 👀

(Her questions would mostly be boundary related, can’t see her being surprised or unaware of expressions of identity.)

8. This is for the dominants, because LUCKY YOU you’ve just stumbled across the subbiest creature in the universe. She is obedient, passionate, insatiable and an absolute tease. You’re also the more likely group to actually get her to enjoy your company as more than just a fling. In the end, Xio needs the control and the care, the relationship dynamics that typically come with a dominant partner.

Much like a tiger doing tricks, if she senses weakness she WILL take over or cease to follow your instruction. Power-bottom? Or situational switch? That depends quite how spectacularly you fail to take control.

9. So, you’re a bit of a brat! Or very specifically, an over-confident man/masc who won’t shut his mouth unless she chokes him? Hope your aim was to be brought to tears being edged out of your mind because Xio’s a total soft-dom. She’s not going to give you tons of bruises or make you sleep on the floor, no, Xio is going to tell you to be good for her, keep your hands behind your back, make as much noise for her as you want while she brings you to the edge over and over.

However, she isn’t someone who seeks a relationship in which she is in constant control. You’re less likely to have her become truly attached if you take a more subservient role outside of the bedroom.

10. Xiomara believes in soulmates. Even though I don’t write them as being real, she just believes in them. These are the possible pros of her belief. If your muse understands Xio and SEES her? Theres a high chance (seeing as they’re dating in this scenario) she’ll start to view you as The One. You have to know her for everything she is and for most people that will stop at trying to understand her cruelty, her prolonged suffering, her difficulty accepting love.

Bonus 11. So, you’re a bit of a monsterfucker ay? Even just a little bit? You can always go swimming with your hot sea-demon girlfriend, just a thought. Let her tease you endlessly about being a terrible swimmer, wrap her tail around you like a constrictor and cover you in kisses and bites. Y’know if you’re into that (we all know we are).

Cons

1. She doesn’t love you. It is nothing personal, but she needs full and complete acceptance and understanding. Usually in the form of someone who celebrates her, all of her, even her cruelty. That is quite a lot to ask of anyone; to love a monster. Something I will not diminish for her.

2. She kills people for money. I feel like that is a Con in most cases. Coming home covered in someone’s blood, probably leaving the bathroom splattered with red, occasionally returning to you half-dead and climbing into bed in that state. One might say that could be just a little traumatising.

3. Speaking of blood. You wanna deal with non-verbal BLOODLUST Xio? Because I sure don’t. Unable to communicate with you when she storms into her home hopped up on murder-adrenaline. Terrifying and with the ever-present possibility of killing you if you’re not very close with her? Having to calm her down? Being threatened by someone who softly kisses you awake? I don’t wish that emotional whiplash on anyone.

4. She’s stubborn as all hell. If she truly wants/needs something and you try to stand in her way you are as disposable as off-meat. She is not giving up. She has a long life to live, and no intentions of wasting it pandering to the concerns and morals of others. She’ll only be told no for so long before she moves on. (Just to clarify this is not about her wanting things from your muse this is about her wanting things in life or needing to do things and your muse disliking/attempting to stop her in any way)

5. She may have big boobs but that’s...kinda where the softness stops. Very bony, muscular, very little fat, not that much fun to cuddle unless your ideal cuddle partner is a tiny, bony, serpentine lady who screams in the night... speaking of-

6. NIGHT TERRORS. Oh yeah, enjoy that on a regular basis. Xio’s insomnia is your insomnia now! Hope you’re a heavy sleeper, but even then, occasionally being woken with a hand around your neck can’t be good for your nerves. The possible exception to this Con being the premonition-like nature of her sister’s appearances in her life, if Xio feels like she’s doing something very right (like being with you) they’ll die down. Xio can’t discern whether this is just reduced stress and having a confidant, or if her sister is watching over her and giving her insights on how to best live her life. She tends to lean toward the latter, so yet another Con for you is that she might toss you to the kerb if those nightmares get worse. Don’t you just love bonus Cons...

7. Xio can be a bit of a hypocrite. She can dish it out but she can’t take it. She will excitedly enter into volleying little quips, insults, banter, sarcasm, but as soon as she’s sat across from someone who can throw it right back she can get frustrated quite quickly. Xio knows full and well she doesn’t deal with her problems how she should, she doesn’t need to be told so.

8. Not sure if this is a Pro or a Con to be quite honest but Xiomara, and Sirens in general, are not very fertile outside of their own race. If your muse wants kids there will be considerable difficulty there. Xio doesn’t actually ever consider having children but might consider it if she had another long-lived partner. However, secret pro if your muse doesn’t want kids, I guess!

9. Xio will keep things carnal for the most part. She can be whisking you off around the world, treating you to beautiful things and making you feel comforted and cared for, but all she is able to pursue is sex. It keeps her participation in these relationships shallow. It is only in the back of her mind that she seeks love, however, she isn’t actually certain as to how that is displayed or what it means to her because she has never let someone love her.

10. Xiomara believes in soulmates. Which means if you aren’t everything you’re nothing. Something fun to toy with while she waits for the real deal. Bless you if you tell her you love her, you’ll get a flat, disinterested stare in response with maybe an “I’m sorry to hear that.” or “How unfortunate.” It is something that will end her relationship with you, especially if she knows you aren’t the one. While it is a mercy that she will not lie to you or lead you on, it is cruel that she lets people get so close to her when she is so removed.

Bonus 11. If this bitch falls in love with you you’re locked in. You’re basically married. She’s immortal and chaotic and would probably kill you if you tried to abandon her...proceed courting her with extreme caution.

Tagged by: @magioffire

I want you to know there is no pressure this took me three days to complete. ‘Tis a long one. Tagging: @derobergeist (you know who we all want to seeeee, give us the Stabby Doctor), @suresaint, @mettleborn (give me Igorrr), @sunbentsky (Oles or Villen?), @fourmarksmage

#;I feel like a person for a moment of my life (headcanon)

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imagineseclipse · 5 years ago

Text

Hardin Scott x Reader- Living life to the fullest.

Warnings: strong language probably I need to stop swearing, time to purchase a swear jar.

Pairings: Hardin Scott x Reader

Summary: Bookworm but cute ass y/n crushing on Badboy Hardin Scott but oops we’re gonna use the uno reverse card to flip it. What could possibly happen when the badboy crushes on the bookworm🤭

A/N: Instead of using y/f/n=your friends name i have decided to invent two new friends for you🥺

The scorching summer sun was beaming through the window closest to you, providing you with appropriate lighting you needed to read in peace and quiet. Your bottle of iced tea resided in the shade nearby to keep it cool.

Luckily you had managed to wake up early enough to grab one of the best spots on the campsite. Leaving your two best friends Tabby and Liv snoring away back in your shared cabin.

Your legs were folded and your back was resting comfortably on a pillow you had brought with you. Life was so good right now and no one could take that away from you.

That was until a pair of hands slammed down on the table in front of you making you jump out of you skin, a loud scream erupted from your lungs as your book went flying through the air. Around you the room fell silent, a hundred pairs of eyes were on you and you could practically feel your cheeks heating up.

“Tabitha, next time a tap on the shoulder will be just fine”you hissed at your blonde bombshell who slumped down in the seat in front of you.

“Y/n Y/l/n we did not, I repeat we did not spend three months trying to convince you to come to this summer camp for you to just sit and read for the whole six weeks”Liv shook her head with disapproval as she nudged Tabby over a little so she could make room for herself.

“Liv we’ve been here for two days”you furrowed your eyebrows at your brunette best friend.

“It’s day two and Hardin Scott already has his eyes on you”Tabby began to wiggle her eyebrows vigorously.

“Wasn’t I right Tab, he was totally oooogling over at y/n?”Liv clapped her hands excitedly.

“I’m sorry, Hardin Who now?”you spluttered out, looking in between your two girlfriends.

“You aren’t being serious”Liv’s mouth fell open in front of you.

“You don’t know who Hardin Scott is?!”Tabby almost cried.

“Am I supposed to?”You cringed slightly, judging by the expressions on their faces they weren’t going to let this go lightly.

“This is worse than I thought”Liv sunk down into her chair. You began to roll your eyes.

“Olivia-

“So you’re telling me you have never, ever seen that beautiful badboy specimen over there at school?”Tabby pointed towards the front of the canteen, your eyes followed unexpectedly meeting another’s gaze.

Hardin Scott leant over towards his friends, his body language was saying that he was part of their conversation, but his eyes were telling a different story. They were concentrating on you and you only, the girls were right he was gorgeous. A lazy smirk fell onto his face when he noticed your cheeks redden once again from across the room.

“No, I’ve never seen him before”you mumbled, peeling your eyes away from the boy who stood on the other side of the room.

“You seriously live in your books”Tabby tutted out.

“He’s obviously taken a liking to you y/n, why else would he be looking at you like that, you don’t understand Hardin Scott doesn’t date he has literally turned down most girls in our year”Liv exclaimed.

“Maybe he’s looking at me because you just scared me really badly and I practically started yodelling in front of everyone I’m sure he’s probably just laughing at me”you shrugged.

“He doesn’t even look at girls y/n that’s how uninterested he is, but the way he looked at you-

“What? Do you not think he’s attractive?”Tabby asked curiously.

“I may be wearing glasses but I’m not completely blind, the Greek gods literally crafted him”you raised an eyebrow.

“That’s our girl, so go talk to him”Liv nodded her head in his direction.

“You’re joking right? She’s joking isn’t she?”you turned to Tabby who was now stuffing her face with cereal.

“C’mon just live a little y/n”Tabby winked over at you speaking through a mouth full of lucky charms.

“Going up to him is not living, that is social suicide. Like you said he’s the ‘badboy’ I mean how is he even really still wearing his leather jacket in this heat?”You scrunched up your nose at the thought of wearing such material during these hot weather conditions.

“You’re being dramatic”Olivia chuckled before sipping on her water bottle.

“Nope, if I go over there that is seriously like feeding a baby deer to a pack of lions”You shook your head defiantly.

“Okay if you’re not going over to Hardin then let’s go do something else on the live a little bucketlist”Liv pushed herself up from her seat, swiping up the book you had unintentionally thrown.

“I mean- y/n if you’re not going to talk to him maybe-”Tabby fluttered her eyelashes at you playfully, being interrupted by Liv.

“Get a move on Tab, he rejected you twice this month already”Olivia grinned.

“Where are we going?”You bit your nail nervously as you waltzed towards the exit alongside your girl pals.

“Two words. Skinny. Dipping”Tabby clapped her hands.

“Is it too late to go and propose to Hardin?”You groaned.

- -

“So, I have to get in naked?”You frowned at your two best friends who stood in front of you.

“Yes”Tabby nodded slowly.

“And you’re telling me people do this for fun?”You asked again.

“Yes”It was Liv’s turn to explain.

“Do you know what? Let’s do it, I need to let my hair down”you smiled over at your girls.

You began to immediately start stripping down next to the lake absentmindedly throwing your clothes into the many bushes, wasting no time in jumping recklessly naked. You’d never felt so free in your whole entire life.

You could hear and see your friends cheering you on as you resurfaced. They were in the middle of stripping down themselves when they stopped, their eyes widening as they spoke to eachother.

“Why aren’t you guys getting in?!”you began to scream over.

“You’re not gonna like what we have to tell you”Liv called out to you. Rolling your eyes you prepared for the worst.

“We’ve forgotten all the towels”Tabby grimaced. So you weren’t prepared for the worst apparently.

“Where are your clothes?!”Liv screamed as you swam closer to the bank, making sure that your body was fully underwater.

“I threw them in the bushes”you cried out.

“Y’know you’re supposed to be the smartest out of all three of us right?”Tabby called out to you.

“Not one of my proudest moments, I’ll agree”your head fell at an angle as you watched your friends panic in front of you.

“It’s okay, all you have to do is go get the towels and come join me in here so I don’t look like an absolute fool”you stressed.

“The towels yes, I’m on it!”Tabby darted off alongside Liv.

“Not both of you?!”you facepalmed knowing that they were long gone. Hopefully they wouldn’t be too long.

Five minutes turned into ten minutes and you were having no luck, the girls were nowhere to be seen and you could hear the alarm ringing for Camp activities which meant that the girls were probably going to be forced to go rock climbing.

You would be in the water all day, you could already feel your toes becoming wrinkly and it was making you cringe. Not all hope was lost however because from the middle of the lake you could see a figure approaching the edge of the lake through the clearing you had arrived at.

You tried to adjust your eyes properly without your glasses but your vision was still blurry.

Your heart sank back down into your stomach when you realised that the figure you were seeing was in fact Hardin Scott. What was he doing here?!

“No. No, it can’t be. This has to be some sort of nightmare”You grumbled out to yourself, in that moment you ducked under the water holding your breath for as long as you could hoping that he would just go away.

After holding your breath for the maximum amount of time you hit the surface, gasping for air.

Hardin Scott was just about to make his way back to camp when he heard a distant spluttering and gasping. He spun on his heel, narrowing his eyes so that he could make out the shape in the middle of the lake.

It didn’t take him long to realise it was you, he’d be able to pick you out of a crowd if he had to.

“Y/n?! Oh m-shit y/n!!”Hardin began to strip quickly peeling off his t-shirt, throwing it carelessly to the ground.

You bobbed up and down in the water watching Hardin with a confused expression plastered on your face.

“Why is he stripping? Not that I’m complaining but why is he jumping into the-OH HOLY MOTHER”you began to panic, waving your arms around frantically trying to stop Hardin from getting any closer to your naked body.

Hardin watched as your arms began flailing around in the air, if he didn’t get to you soon you would drown and he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself so he continued to swim harder and faster.

Finally he reached you and immediately he reached out to pull your body closer to his.

“NO”you yelled, swimming away slightly.

“I’m trying to save your life, why are you trying to die?!”Hardin yelled at your retreating body.

“I’m not drowning you idiot”you began to scream back. Hardin smirked unintentionally, this was the first time he’d met you, under unusual circumstances but he was intrigued. You intrigued him. He’d often catch you up earlier than the others, pouring yourself an orange juice then disappearing to the corner where you sat peacefully until your best friends turned up.

“Why were you waving your arms in the air like that then?”Hardin exclaimed.

“I was trying to stop you from coming over here”you sighed pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Why would you want to do that?”Hardin grumbled, almost offended that you didn’t actually want his help.

“Y’know I wanted to practice my synchronised swimming”you lied almost falling speechless once seeing the amazing tattoo’s on his skin.

“You need more than one person to practice synchronised swimming y/n”The brown hair boy grinned in front of you, watching you as your cheeks flushed the same shade of red it did earlier that day.

You almost choked on the water you were floating in after hearing him say your name. How did he even know your name?

“You know me?”You blurted out abruptly.

“How could I not know you?”he replied without hesitation.

You furrowed your eyebrows at him, silently asking for an explanation. He didn’t catch on so you decided to just drop it for now.

“So what are you actually doing out here al-”Hardin asked concerned.

“I’m naked okay?! My friends told my I should live my life to the fullest so we decided to try skinny dipping and they left the towels behind so they went to get them and then I’m guessing they got called away to do rock climbing because they haven’t come back”you exploded telling Hardin the truth.

He didn’t laugh at you like you thought he would, instead it looked like the cogs in his brain were working hard.

“Just warning you I can’t really see much, I haven’t got my glasses and my eyes are a bit blurry”you explained, laughing it off.

Unexpectedly he reached forwards, his hands framing your face as he drew closer, but he made sure that he wasn’t too close to you so you felt comfortable. His thumbs lightly ran traces underneath and around your eyes removing the water droplets from your eyelashes.

You were about to thank him however a sneeze got the better of you.

“I’ll be back real soon I promise”Hardin nodded with determination.

“Wha-Where are you going?!”you sighed, watching the handsome boy swim away.

“We can’t have anyone see you naked can we?!”He swam on his back sending you a quick wink.

“Wait Hardin-

Immediately Hardin stopped, hearing you say his name was a moment that he wanted to take in piece by piece. You’d never really noticed him at school when everyone else had so this was a major development.

-Thankyou”you smiled over to him gratefully.

You were only left for a couple of moments before Hardin was rushing back towards the bank. In his arms he held multiple towels and he’d obviously broken into your cabin to get a change of clothes for you.

You laughed to yourself quietly as you swam carefully towards him. He was much sweeter than you thought he’d be, and as expected he was also way more handsome up close. Maybe it wasn’t so bad at all, you found yourself wanting to know more about Hardin, you wouldn’t admit it to your friends but you wanted to ask Hardin out.

“C’mon you’re gonna get sick, you’re already sneezing”Hardin warned as he closed his eyes, waiting for you to step into the towel he was holding out for you.

“You can open your eyes now”you smiled as he wrapped his hoodie around you whilst you dryed off.

“Ahh don’t forget these”Hardin grinned, pulling your glasses out of his pocket.

“So, you know me huh?”you sent him a playful smile before getting dressed. Not forgetting his earlier comment.

“I definitely think I have a soft spot for you Miss. Y/N”Hardin confessed.

“You should come and join me, for uh- orange juice tomorrow morning if you want I know it sounds abit lame or if you want to hang out for the rest of the day we could and-

“Let’s do both”he agreed, smiling happily holding out his hand.

“Tabby I’m blaming you, y/n is going to kill us!”Liv shook her head as the two girls sprinted towards the lake where they’d left y/n for an hour or so.

“I thought I packed them, she’s going to kill me first”Tabby exclaimed, rolling her eyes as the two panicked girls came to the clearing with a pile of towels just in time to see y/n slip her hands into Hardin Scott’s.

“We’ve been gone for an hour and suddenly she’s living life to the fullest more than anyone”Liv clapped her hands together quietly.

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greekbros · 4 years ago

Text

"greek-Bros: The Return of an Old Enemy"

Chapter 12: Matters to Attend To

After a rough night of sleeping in the tough dirt with roughly 15 or so big cats, Dionysus prepares to leave for Olypmus. He was waiting for Apollo to pick him up, feeling as if he'd been gently shoved into a small box to sleep in while dogpiled by his own pet big cats. He drinks in the scenery of the morning, wondering what the day shall bring. Feeling the top of his head feeling a little bit warmer, he looks up to find Apollo riding above. "Ah there you are!", he shouts to his brother in the sky. Along with the ball of fire trailing behind Apollo's chariot, it's golden embellishments shined bright enough to create a blinding glare, leaving Dionysus to shield his eyes for a short second.

Riding down to Dionysus's position, Apollo waved back, "Good morning. How was your night?", he asked softly. Apollo also looked a little sleep depraved as well, after Dionysus's afternoon celebration, he had his own issues to deal with. Apparently, there had been issues around the coastal areas around mainland Greece that weren't related to wolves....but a bizzare influx of dolphins harassing the locals.

Dionysus yawned loudly, streched his arms and gave his back a good crack, "let's just say it's easier to imagine sleeping with big soft animals than it is to actually put into practice.". He groggiingly climbed onto Apollo's chariot. ".....so is there any seatbelts on this thing?", he joked.

Apollo shook his head and snaps the reins, off they went to Olypmus. "Well, hang on then, time is of the essence.", he chuckled. He snapped the reins and off to the clouds above the two went, the clouds at first felt like cool mist but slowly thickens into a softer fluff that opens to a sea of soft white and blue. Off in the distance, Olypmus stood proudly like an island.

Meanwhile, Zeus had returned to Olympus with the growing concerns that had become prevalent throughout the Mediterranean; the wolf attacks. Pacing back and forth, Zeus was pondering what to do about such an issue. "Wolves of all things", he though. Did he need to talk to the other gods about this? Was Hades responsible for this, inspite of his lack of evidence that Hades has yet to be responsible for any surface issues. He hadn't the foggiest idea what is causing it. "oooooh....where is that girl....I know she's the greatest huntress in all of Olypmus but she shouldn't be taking this long.....and Athena....my goodness with all her wisdom and intelligence....a little empathy wouldn't hurt once and a while.", grumbling on while rubbing his forehead, oddly enough even mentioned Athena's name gives him a mild headache. Inspite of this, Zeus still worries for all his daughters.

Hermes could only watch as he was growing more entertained by the hole in the floor Zeus had created. Hera was more disgruntled at Zeus because now the nice marble floor now have sizable divot. "..... Zeus can you PLEASE just sit down. You're not the only one here with a headache, how am I going to find a stonemason at this time in the morning?", she groaned. Spectating the whole issue, she really had become curious as to how Zeus could be blaimed for this, maybe its so bad that he would be banished and she would be made Ruler of the Sky, but she doubts that.

"I understand my dear, but there are more important matters on our plate.", as Zeus says this the sound of Apollo's chariot. "Oh thank goodness.". Zeus hoped with Apollo and Dionysus now present, there would be a few more heads working together. "Ah good morning boys.", Zeus urgently greeted them.

Dionysus slid down the marble floor for a dramatic entrance, while Apollo calmly walked in. "Good morning father, good morning Hera you look absolutely radiant today", Apollo greeted back. The two placed themselves on their designated thrones.

Hera wasn't too flattered but she appreciates the greeting with a head nod. "Morning... Apollo. So what has your father done this time?....". She has been watching over both Olympus and the earth while Zeus had been flying around. Tapping her perfectly sharpened nails on the arm of her gold and marble throne. "Well?", she inquired again.

With the rough sound of clearing his throat, Zeus interjects to answer for Apollo. "Well Hera, it seems we have a pest control problem, 'wolves'...........'wolves' have been seen doing such strange things .....but others say it's really not wolves. If memory serves me, we did not create wolves to act like this......boys, have any of you found any new information?", Zeus inquired.

Dionysus and Apollo looked at each other, remembering the day before and what had transpired during the Dionysian Games. Dionysus glances away, trying to deter any responsibility in being the first to tell anyone, Apollo is given the unceremonious task of explaining what had happened on Delphi. "Well.....let's just say, while Dionysus was having a...day time event, it seems that there was some semblance of a sighting. No one was harmed thankfully....", as he finished he looked at Dionysus, hoping he was going to going to fill in any details.

Dionysus, pretended that he wasn't paying attention. Apollo continued to stare at him until he took a coin from his pocket and aggressively flicked at Dionysus. The coin hit Dionysus's head with an audible tunk as it bounced off, "Ow! Fuck man what the hell?!", Dionysus rubbed the currently forming lump. He looked around as he saw Hera, Zeus and Hermes were looking at him, clearly knowing he knew more than he was willing to share. "Ugh....yeah....someone saw a dog thing? Yeah but as Apollo said, no harm no foul...", he hoped his flimsy confirmation would suffice.

Zeus obviously took this as a sign something was wrong and that these creatures were indeed becoming more and more brazen but he wasn't going to pry Dionysus anymore for obvious reasons. He was still wondering where Artemis and Athena were, probably assisting mortals or actively finding more information.

Zeus than turned to Hermes, usually his energetic messenger was more talkative, yet right now he was rather quite. "Hermes....is there anything you would like to share? Any news that would ....at the very least help us... Artemis told me you witnessed one of these creatures yourself?", Zeus asked. He could see Hermes looked a little anxious, in fact Hermes hadn't taken his encounter very well since he first saw it. "My boy, do you have something to say?", Zeus again asked.

The wings on his hat emoted his sudden alertness much like how a dog would, he was mentally elsewhere but quickly came back to planet Earth to put it 'mortally'. "Oh well.....it wasn't too bad.... Artemis shot it in the mouth...hehehe, but....I'm more use to things staying dead.", he rubbed the back of neck, "The creature came back to life shortly after she killed it. I've never seen something like that in my life.", Hermes responded somberly. He felt silly being scared of something that wouldn't be out of place in the Underworld, but he knew that it wasn't something he had experienced in its controlled chaotic environment. "Outside of that, it seems they're very sturdy and very fast.", he continued.

Off in the hall, Artemis and Athena had finally arrived, although both were empty handed, Athena had come with her pride humbly swallowed. The two sisters entered the throne room unannounced as to not disturb Hermes's story.

Dionysus went from playing with his curly locks to glancing past Zeus and seeing Artemis and Athena. "Oh cool, you're here!", he exclaimed with a smile. Artimes waved back, but Athena stayed stone faced.

"Ah there you two are! Where have you two been?", Zeus bellowed.

Artimes walked towards her barely used throne next to Apollo, slumped onto her seat, surprisingly exhausting. It was obvious Artemis had been doing most of the leg work of investigating what has been happening, meanwhile her brothers decided to have fun with their fake Olympics. ".......ugggh....", she groaned and turned to Apollo, "so....did you look over Delos like I asked?"

He had been so occupied with Dionysus that he had COMPLETELY forgotten to check if the island of Delos was untouched. Apollo struggle for a few seconds, as he was about to say something.

"You didn't fucking check didn't you?", Artemis interrupted. Lucky for her, she had checked Delos and the island was currently at the bottom of her list worries.

Apollo couldn't help but give an embarrassed half smile and immediately points to Dionysus and whispers, "this is your fault". Dionysus of course couldn't help but give an identical smile.

Athena stood in front of Zeus, "Father....I believe I owe you an apology for doubting your judgement....it seems.... Athens has come under a terrible affliction....the city has been relying on outside trade these past few days because the farmlands have been savagely ravaged by unknown forces. On top of all that......Theseus hasn't helped much politically, considering he is off on some pointless quest with the rest of his demi-brethren, the state executives have been scrambling for answers to the myriad of metropolitan issues. Disappearing blacksmiths, sightings of creatures in the night and hordes of food, metal, and wood supplies have disappeared over night. I seek your your guidance, for this is genuinely a force I have never experienced.", she was at a loss for words with her situation. Athens has had many terrible lows in its long history, but nothing of this supernatural sort.

He looked at his children, he shook his head. "Your apologies are always accepted my dear Athena. Laps of judgment always happen.", Zeus said with a smile.

She held her head up high, "If I may ask. Is there explanation to.our plights?".

Dionysus stretched his legs a little, "it's wolves I think....but they're kinda funky. Hermes says that THESE wolves can get hit with arrows and like...not die....it's kind of weird. Oh and apparently they like destroying food tents.", he interjected.

Hermes turned to Dionysus, "This thing wasn't a wolf! I know a wolf when I see it, this thing had hands! And it stood on two legs and was fast on them!", he corrected Dionysus was short burst of annoyance.

Obviously, Hera was about to toss herself from the top of Mt. Olypmus from all the sweetness of Zeus's love for his children, the destruction of anyone's food tent or anything, she couldn't care less about it. ".....Can we go on?", she strained. "Frankly Zeus, I just want to know what does all of this has to do with you.", She paused as she was just speaking at suddenly thought had dawned on her. ".... Zeus.......this "wolf" business doesn't have anything to do with Lycaon does it?....You DID say the problem was taken care of....right?", Hera spoke with a tone of ripe displeasure.

Zeus couldn't deny it any longer. An unnatural wolf, Athens in social chaos and the constant bickering between his children had to stop. "Children........it's time I told you the whole story....do you remember when I've told some of you the story of how I defeated the most evil man in the world?", he asked.

The other gods became curious, what did an old bedtime story that their own father had to do with all of this? Hera let out a long and disappointed sigh, it really did have something to do with him, but she had secretly hoped he wasn't responsible for it.

He continued, "Many decades ago, it should be a century or so....if memories serves me correctly....I was invited to a feast in Arcadia by King Lycaon himself. In the story, I told that I defeated him by turning him into a wolf and destroyed his desperately sons for serving me a feast made from the flesh of man..... however.....I may have left out a few.... important details....I did turn him into a wolf....but I left a small semblance of humanity in him so that he may suffer ridicule and hatred for the remainder of his life......that...may have been the greatest regret....I should have ended him when I had the chance.... however, I cannot contest for how he has managed to live for so long....but I do fear it maybe my power is what helped with his longevity.....I doubt he's alone too....", he solemnly ended his story.

The five Olympic offspring sat there in disbelief, the rumors were true and their own father had direct responsibility over the situation. Hera in the meantime, felt a little sorry for Zeus, if she was responsible for such a blunder she would no doubt feel an eating guilt in her heart. "Zeus, listen, what's in the past is done....you fucked up and honestly that's no surprise.....", she put it bluntly.

He turned around unamused but not surprised that his wife would take a swing at his ego, yet all he could do is agree. "Now..... children, we must spread ourselves around and look high and low for Lycaon...no matter the cost.", he declared.

A low crashing noise could be heard from halls, alarming everyone in the throne room. The boys screamed, Artemis was too tired to care and Athena raised her shield and spear ready to defend everyone in the room. Zeus and Hera were worried but there was a likely suspect on their minds. "Ares!", the two said in unison. If anyone would regularly break urns and vases in Olypmus, it was Ares. Whom oddly enough did not come to the meeting. Apollo, Dionysus, Hermes and Athena were the first to charge towards the noise while Artemis had no intentions of moving for the moment.

In another room, Ares was trying to help Ajax use armor and play with a wooden sword for the first time. Turns out, after a few hours of roughhousing with his own war hounds, Ares realized Ajax could use his paws to hold things. So one silly thing led to another, and Alex accidentally broke a vase. "Nice swing Ajax, you'll lead your own army in no time!", Ares chuckled with enthusiasm. Ajax wagged his tail and adjusted his ill-fitting helmet. "You know what, I'm hungry. Come on Ajax, let's go get something to eat", he gestured to Ajax to follow him to the kitchen. The pup's tailed wagged even more enthusiastically, he gently removed his helmet, placed his shield and sword down and followed his new devine friend.

As the two miscreants went to the kitchen, the rest of the Olympians just missed them by a few seconds. Apollo and Athena were armed and ready while Hermes and Dionysus were reluctant to have followed them.

Apollo and Athena both look at the obvious mess of broken urns and damaged marble along with the instruments of the crime. "Hm...It definitely looks like Ares may have been here....but what would he want with set of juvenile training armor?", Athena questioned.

"Hmmm....maybe he's taken up another Amazonian student?.... after all it's not like he's done it before.", Apollo speculated.

"Well I'm not cleaning up after his kids again.", Dionysus groaned brushing away a piece of broken pottery with his foot.

Hermes looked around and started to hear more clattering coming from the kitchen. "I think we'll get our answer shortly.", he pointed to the direction of what at this point sounded like a dog playing with its food.

The four than slowly cornered the entrance way to the kitchen, Apollo and Athena on opposite sides of the door. Dionysus, summons his thyrsos, to protect himself and Hermes who's just behind him. Athena motioned to Apollo to get ready to bust into the kitchen, he agreed with a stern nod.

Zeus and Hera have just arrived, spectating the mess of a hallway and had just about enough this. "OH FOR GOODNESS SAKE.", Zeus bellowed and opened the kitchen door to fine Ares mid bite into some meat and Ajex sitting on the counter, peacefully chewing on lamb chop.

It was a standstill for the ages.

"Son.....what is that?", Zeus asked calmly and sternly.

"Lamb chops.", Ares replied.

"....no.......I mean....what...is....that?.", Zeus pointed at Ajex.

Ares hadn't thought so quickly in his life and drew out his sword and pulled Ajex closer to him. In a deadpan tone and a blank stare, "Take one more step Dad I will wreck everything.". Ajex obviously was completely clueless and just innocently looked at everyone.

Everyone from Zeus and his children all armed themselves. "ARES I NEED TO YOU STEP AWAY FRO. THAT ABOMINATION.", Zeus commanded him.

Athena raised her spear, "Ares you dimwitted buffoon! That creature's kind has cost us all dearly!", she hissed at him

Ares still expressionless knew he wasn't going to let his family hard a single fur on Ajex's head.

The Olympians were all shouting and tried coaxing Ares to give the wolf pup but the god of war wouldn't budge.

Hera, finally pushing Apollo and Dionysus aside, "ARES! What is going on?! And why is that thing on the counter! You have no idea where it's been and I thought I told you no snacking before meals!", Hera shouted with a wag of her finger.

"Oh I gave him a bath before we started training.", Ares replayed.

"TRAINING?!?", everyone shouted in unison.

Zeus's voiced boomed, "YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THAT CREATURE IS CAPABLE OF!".

"FUCKYOUDADYOUCANTTELLMEWHATTODO!", Ares defiantly shouted back.

As the quarreling between the gods continued, Hermes at was fearful at seeing this kind of creature again until he started to get a closer look. "Wait a minute..... isn't this the dog with tattered clothes your thespian friend told you?", he turned to Dionysus.

As if a candle was suddenly lit, Dionysus than remembered the joust. "Hey it's that dog thing that cost you the joust you know the one you lost and got very very VERY humiliated in?!", he hoped reminding Ares about his loss would make him relinquish Ajex due to anger.

"Oh really? Well ok than accidents happen I guess. I guess little Ajex here had places to go. Ain't that right buddy", Ares said with a smile basically forgiving Ajex for costing him the joust. Ajex let out a little yip with glee.

"Damnit. I thought that would do it. Sorry guys I tried.", Dionysus shrugged.

Hera was distraught and disappointed, "Oh my gods you've named it too. Now we'll never get rid of it.", she said breathlessly.

"Come on mom, it's just a dog. I mean sure he's really misshapen for a dog but he's managing pretty well with me.", Ares still had no idea that what he was holding close to him....was more closely related to a cursed human.

"Son....that is no hound....that....is what I had turned Lycaon many years ago....I turned him into a part wolf monstrosity for the purpose of punishment! That right there!.....could be his very offspring! Or worse!....an innocent child who was transformed into wolf.", Zeus gravely explained.

Ares looked at Ajex, "....oh...so that's why he has thumbs.".

The rest of his siblings couldn't believe that Ares had just realized this and collectively groaned. Zeus could only nod in minor disappointment while Hera shook her head.

Hermes on the other hand stepped a little closer to Ares and Ajex. "....Well....thus one DEFINITELY isn't the same kind of beast me and Artimes saw.", he than started to feel extremely silly for being so afraid of this small and somewhat cute looking creature.

"That's because it's a wolf cub!", Artimes had finally caught up with everyone. "I mean seriously, you guys got worked up over a pup? I mean seriously it still teething.", She pointed at Ajex who was still chewing on a lamb bone.

Ares looked at Ajex, "you mean like how babies do?....cool. That explains why he bit me when we first met.", he fondly remembered.

Zeus went pale. "Son....did....did ugh...Ajex you called him? ....well....did he draw blood when he bit you?", he deathly asked.

Ares looked at his arm and saw no marks, then he looked everywhere else that Ajex had teethed on and still no marks. "Nope. Little guys' gonna have to grown into his big teeth later.", he knew that dogs had their own set of baby teeth much like humans did, so considering Ajex's lineage, there was a good chance he still had many of his baby teeth.

A deep sigh of relief was let out by Zeus.

Apollo than asked, "Father, why is it such an issue that it bit Ares, it's not like as if gods could die of an infection....even so I can fix it.".

Zeus shook his head, "Because I've seen what happens with mortals who survive an attack from these monsters....they become them.", the others became visibly worried, expect for Ares and Hermes. Hermes of course could always outrun them and Ares simply assumed he was impervious to injury.

Ares than realized if he hadn't been so physically hard to chew on he would be a half-wolf half-war god. "WAIT A MINUTE I COULD HAVE BEEN A WOLF WAR GOD THAT SOUNDS EPIC AS FUCK!", He shouted.

Apollo, Athena, Artimes and Dionysus looked at each other in clear worry, the idea of a beastly war god even more so vicious than what he currently is now is a far more unfathomably terrifying idea.

Hermes was still looking at Ajex with mild curiosity. Suddenly Ajex looked at him a tilted his head with equal curiosity. A sudden urge to do something Hermes wanted to do when discovered he could perform a neat little trick. He than raised the wings on his hat upwards in an alert position. Ajex's ears did the same thing. Than Hermes switched to a 3 o'clock position, Ajex than followed through and mimicked with his ears.

The rest of the gods looked at this strange display and went silent, surely something important was happening.

Ares however was starting to get jealous, "dude da fuk can you stop that's super fucking weird.", he asked but Hermes continued with different wing positions as if he was giving signals. Ajex was oddly enough having fun with this activity and let out a yip.

"I can't believe it.... we're completely in sync! You know what this means?", Hermes exclaimed at his wings alternated with Ajex's ears. "This could be like a secret handshake or something."

His brothers were obviously was confused, "Ugh...is this going to help us? I mean it's a cool trick but how is this going to solve anything?", Dionysus asked.

Hermes chuckled a little and replied, "oh no there absolutly nothing useful about this it's just fun to see if another animal would do it.". Another collective groan from everyone could be heard.

Athena rested her spear, "This has been a waste of time! All that's happened was the discovery of this creature infiltrating our ranks through Ares's pure ignorance and we still have no clue where to find these b-", she suddenly stopped mid sentence and looked at Ajex and started to formulate an idea "....... surely....this...Ajax has a family...I mean for such a young pup, he has to be missing his parents...", She glanced at Ares whom was still keeping Ajex close. He didn't want to part with him.

Zeus knew what Athena had been implying, he agreed with this plan but he didn't want to lose anymore of Ares's trust. "Athena, as much as that sounds like a wonderous strategy, I believe we can achieve our goal in finding Lycaon.... without harming the young creature.", Zeus walked up to Ajex, no matter if this creature had fangs, claws and fur, it was still in a sense a child.

Scoffing at Athena's attempt to gain her favors by being "tactful", she couldn't help but sense Athena was simply trying to be a little bit insensitive to Ares considering the two have had it against each other for years. "Or....I can just track down trail where me and Hermes found the first wolf. I mean, if I remember correctly there IS a complex cave system in Mount Parnassus.", she concluded.

Ares was relieved.

Zeus had than remembered what Athena had mentioned about Theseus and the rest of his half-born children. "By jove I've got it. BOYS! You're off to find Lycaon.", he announced.

Apollo, Dionysus, Hermes and Ares all looked at Zeus in mild disbelief. "Wait what?", they all murmured in unison.

#greek-Bros #greek bros #greek gods #dionysus #Zeus #hera #artemis #athena #ares #Apollo #greek bros: the return of an old enemy #chapter 12 #short story #fiction #greek mythology

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