#sag aphrodite

[a-d-nox]

the wardrobe: fire signs

this post applies to your aphrodite, venus, and rising signs. of course, these are only my opinions and everyone is different given degrees, aspects, and house placements. so take what i say with a grain of salt.

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aries (1°, 13°, 25°)

when i think aries style i think: tight clothes, sharp look, thin heels, comfortable shoes, monochromatic, street ware, athletic ware, showing skin, whatever allows movement, edgy look, leather, hats, etc.

leo (5°, 17°, 29°)

when i think leo style i think: bold look, trendsetter, basics with a statement pieces, fur, jewels, glitter, side slits, something that you can show off your back, etc.

sagittarius (9°, 21°)

when i think sagittarius style i think: something that you could wear anywhere (versatility), strange pairings (trench coat and sweats, minimal clothing but heavy jacket, cute dress but grungy coat, multiple hyper pieces at once, etc), couture, bodysuits, traveling outfits, casual made chic, high waisted pants, baggy pants, no pants, etc.

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[theblindgoddess]

Epic the Musical AU

An au that begins after Aphrodite wins the golden apple and she shows Paris what is basically a magic video recording of Helen, telling him about his future bride.

However, in this magic video recording Helen is spending time with Penelope, and Paris goes "forget that Helen chick, I want that one."

And Aphrodite just goes with it, so instead of kidnapping Helen, Paris and Aphrodite kidnap Penelope, and a baby Telemachus to help them better control Penelope.

Odysseus is rightfully murderous, and even if he doesn't have the benefit of a treaty to get all of the Greeks on his side, he is still able to strong arm and lie his way into getting that massive army to besiege Troy and get his wife back.

And over in Troy Penelope is making the situation as insufferable for Paris as she possibly can, she will cause all of the problems until she can get back home safely with her son.

This au would be called Penelope of Troy.

[shouyuus]

doctor, doctor

zayne; 3,377; fluff and smut, no "y/n", knowing use of sex drugs, handjob, oral (f!receiving), face riding, shockingly soft intermission, missionary, internal creampies, banter (it's zayne duh), needy!zayne

summary: zayne volunteers as a guinea pig to test out an antidote to a new love drug. spoiler alert: the antidote sucks.

a/n: phew! i haven't written this much porn in... /checks watch/ well ever really. but im not that mad about it! it's a genre i've always felt a bit weak in so im glad to get some practice :) pls enjoy!

aphrodite made me!! masterlist

─── 黎深 YOU KNOW SOMETHING’S WRONG the second he gets home. There’s a bright flush to his cheeks, a glassy look to his eyes, and he reaches out to brace himself against the counter almost as soon as he’s through the door, sucking in a deep breath.

“Z-Zayne? What’s wrong?” you rush up to him, reaching out to press a palm to his cheek, lashes fluttering as you pull it away, startled. “Oh my god, you’re burning up!”

“No — it’s fine. I’m fine.” He tries to push you away, but can’t help the soft groan that leaves his lips as he nuzzles into your touch. You frown, letting him press into the palm of your hand before he turns to drop a kiss to your skin, looking down at you with hooded eyes. “It’s… not what you think.”

“Not what I…” you blink up at him, worry slowly being eclipsed by a trembling uncertainty.

Something’s not right, you think, but judging by the way he’s still able to hold himself steady, he’s not that sick. So then —

“Ah… fuck —” he curses, leaning forward to bury his nose into your shoulder, tugging you to him in a sudden embrace that has you squeaking, startled by the strength of his hold. And you’re not imagining it; up this close, you can feel his thready heartbeat reverberating through his chest to yours, and his arms around you — is he… trembling?

“Zayne?”

It’s so rare that he curses so easily, so openly. Usually, this kind of language is reserved for the bedroom but —

You go still in his arms, heat washing up the back of your neck into your cheeks as you feel the unmistakable hardness against your hip. Your mind grinds to a startling halt as you try to reconcile these two pieces of strange, incompatible information.

He’s sick… but he’s hard?

“Sorry — I just —” he tries to pull away, shaking his head as if to clear it but his eyes are still glazed when he stumbles back and lets himself sag against the closed front door. You let your eyes take stock of him — his ruddy cheeks and fluttering lashes, the shiver in his limbs, the clench in his jaw as he looks anywhere but at you.

“Zayne. What’ going on?”

He almost hisses at the sharp edge to your tone.

“There’s a new drug out on the market,” he says, his voice thin even as he cards a hand through his hair and tries to take a steadying breath. “It’s… being sold underground, and it’s a potent —” he swallows, tugging at his collar, and it’s only then that you notice the thin sheen of sweat glistening over his skin, “— a potent love drug.”

Your eyebrows skyrocket as you blink up at him.

“A… love drug?”

Zayne sighs, frowning slightly as he jerks at his tie, pulling the knot loose to let it hang around his neck as he thumbs at the top button of his shirt. His fingers, usually so quick and nimble, seem strangely uncoordinated. And after a second, you reach out to gently swat his hand away, popping the top button for him, blushing as he hisses out a breath and lets his head thump back against the door.

“Yes,” he answers, his voice clipped as he tries to look anywhere but at your face. “Our R&D department has been developing a cure and —”

“And?” you ask, letting your finger trace down the thin band of his exposed chest to catch on the next button of his shirt.

“And…” he swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he purses his lips, “they needed willing participants to —”

Understanding floods through you like a wash of cold water. You let out a disbelieving laugh.

“You volunteered to test the antidote,” you say, staring up at his flushed face, his sweat-slick skin, the unfocused fracture to his eyes, the way his pupils are blown so wide they look almost entirely black.

You lick your lips, feeling another wave of heat crest through you as tingles shoot down your spine at the thought.

“Yes,” he answers again, sounding aggrieved and relieved both that you’ve finally understood.

“But…” you let your words trail off, letting your eyes rake down his trembling body and back up again.

Zayne sighs, shaking his head, “Well, it’s a work in progress.”

“Mm,” you hum, biting back a laugh that you know wouldn’t be entirely appropriate, given the desperate look on his face. Still, that forbidden knot had started to twist in your gut as you assess the situation.

It’s not every day that chance delivers your boyfriend so pliant and willing to your literal shared front door. And you’ve never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“So?” you say, taking half a step back and folding your arms, reveling in the way he tips forward immediately to chase your warmth. “How do we —” you wave a hand towards him, feeling a strange, impossible fit of giggles threatening to spill from you at the sheer absurdity of the situation.

Zayne slates you a rueful look before leaning back to pinch at his nose bridge.

“T-the researchers say that the effects —” he pauses to take another deep breath. You can’t help noticing the increasingly obvious bulge in his work slacks and you feel your own thighs tense as the knot in your stomach twists just a tad tighter. “The effects should wear off on their own in a few hours but…”

“But?” you prompt, lacing your hands behind your back as you teeter on the balls of your feet, feeling an ever-familiar tingle race from the nape of your neck to the tips of your toes.

“But… there’s nothing much to do except to —” Zayne’s fingers twitch as he forces himself to open his eyes and stare at a nondescript point over your shoulder, “to ride it out, as they say.”

At this, you break — you fall into a fit of giggles that has Zayne sighing again as he pushes himself off the door and making his unsteady way to the bedroom.

“W-wait! Where’re you going?” you ask, tugging at his arm.

He twists to stare at you, “I — to bed. Or I can sleep on the couch tonight if it’ll make you more —”

You roll your eyes and yank him down for a kiss. He can’t even pretend to protest as he moans and melts into the heat of your mouth. You thread your fingers through his hair and feel his palms gripping at your waist, tight, and then tighter.

“Y’know… for a smart guy… you’re really kind of clueless sometimes.”

“Y-yeah?” Zayne asks, his breath hot against your lips. You nod, letting him tug you both back towards the bedroom, him nearly stumbling in his haste, you biting back another fit of giggles as he sits down hard on the edge of the bed and slots you between his legs, running his hands up and down the backs of your legs, fingers dancing towards the lace trimming of your panties.

“Did you really think that I wasn’t going to help you?” you ask, your voice low.

He lets out another thick groan as you cup his cheeks and tilt his head back to look at you.

“I — I don’t — I thought that maybe —” he stutters, but you shake your head.

“C’mon doc,” you say, grinning as his eyes narrow. You give his chest a light push and watch, satisfied, as he allows himself topple back onto the mattress. “Tell me where it hurts.”

He sucks in a breath between his teeth, staring at you with a look of such unadulterated love that you find yourself almost getting shy. Almost. You crawl onto the bed, nudging apart his legs, walking your fingers up this thighs as he jerks, head falling back into the pillows.

“Please…” the plea leaves his lips parted, and you feel the heat pulse between your own legs, feel your mouth water as you look down at the pliant, panting form of Zayne’s body, spread out on the bed, his chest rising and falling at quick intervals as he watches you from beneath hooded eyes.

Briefly, you consider teasing him, but disregard the thought after realizing that he’d probably driven home feeling much like this. And you reach up to tug loose the belt, making quick work of his trousers, pulling down his boxers to reveal his cock — thick and leaking so much precum that your hands come away sticky.

“A-ah — fuck.” Again, he swears, as you tentatively wrap your fingers around his girth, and it’s not the first time you’ve done this, nor will it be the last, but it never fails to surprise you (just a little) how thick he is in your hands — how your fingers don’t reach all the way around.

You give him a few solid pumps, feeling the angry veins pulse beneath your palms as you try to work up a tempo, his hips jumping as he lets out a string of deep, throaty moans that have you clenching around nothing.

“Wait — wait —” he reaches for you, his thighs jumping slightly as your rhythm slows, and he hisses out a long breath, his brows furrowed as you tease your thumb around the underside of his cock hood, allowing yourself a tiny, devious grin as he whimpers high in the back of his throat.

“Yes, doc? Did you have any… complaints?” you drag your tongue across your lips before leaning down and letting your hot breath fan over his purpling head, feeling the heat between your own legs spread through you as thick beads of precum ooze from his slit.

“Come — come here —” he motions up the bed and you cock your head, glancing back down at what you’re certain is quite the painful erection.

“You don’t want…” you tighten your hold around his shaft as he catches his lips in his teeth and groans.

“I — I do. But I want —” he swallows, his eyes squeezing shut for a brief second, “I want to taste you.”

Desire curls solid at the base of your spine as you feel yourself throbbing at the thought. Zayne’s never been anything but a devout lover, and you’d often reflected that it really does pay to have a boyfriend who has a truly occupational knowledge of human anatomy.

“Yeah?” you ask, your own voice going breathy as you inch up the mattress, his hands settling so easily on the plush of your thighs, his eyes flitting up and down your body almost as if he doesn’t quite know where to look. You lift up your skirt and tug off your panties, with the full intention of lowering yourself slowly, but with a wretched moan, Zayne pulls you down over his face hard enough for you to gasp, your weight tipping forward so hard that you have to brace your hands on the backboard to stop yourself from toppling right over.

You feel his tongue lick a long strip along the seam of your cunt, the sting of his fingers digging into your thighs as he holds you over his mouth, groaning into the sopping heat of you, his tongue already pushing into you as he gives your clit a hard suck that has your mind fizzing out into tv static.

“Z-Zayne — oh fuck —!”

He strains against you, pressing his face so far into you you’re almost afraid he’s going to suffocate, but he only holds you tighter when you try to pull away, his mouth chasing your puffy lips. You grind yourself against his face, feeling his nose nudge at your clit as he sinks his tongue ever deeper into you, fucking it into you with a perverse need.

And it doesn't take long like this, not when he's so intimately aware of all your softest parts, all your most sensitive places.

“I — ah — ah — I’m s-so —” you stutter, as you feel the familiar tightening in your belly, the coil twisting as thin tendrils of heat start to skitter up through your limbs and you feel your orgasm building inside you.

Zayne lets out a debauched moan, letting it rumble from his mouth straight into your cunt and it’s enough to have your eyes fluttering shut as you break over his mouth, whimpering, hips stuttering as the white-hot fire chases washes through you in a great wave, leaving you feeling boneless and slightly winded.

Zayne pulls away panting, licking his lips, his eyes dark as an oil spill, completely devoid of light as he stares up at you, his gaze more licentious than you’ve ever seen it before. Even in the champagne-bubble weightlessness of your post-orgasmic haze, you recognize the crystalizing need in his movements as he releases your thighs, his handprints inked into your skin, red and fresh — you’re sure they’ll still be there tomorrow.

“H-how do you want me?” you ask, your voice a little slurred as he reaches up to wipe a thumb along his bottom lip, collecting the remnants of your slick there, only to lean in and press his mouth to yours. You groan against him, the messy tang of your own juices sharp on your tongue as he kisses you, pressing you back into the mattress till you’re pinned beneath him.

“Just like this…” he whispers, and you marvel at the restraint still in his actions, even as he quickly sheds the rest of his clothing, tossing them off into the careless dark of the room.

There’s a moment, caught in-between one kiss and the next, where he pulls back and looks at you, his eyes so soft, his expression unguarded, where you wonder if you’ll ever be able to see yourself through his eyes, and a tender warmth spreads through you as you realize that this is what love has always meant to feel like. There have been fireworks, yes, and whirlwinds. There’ve been storms and sunny days. But there will always be moments like this, caught in the almost light of a moonless night, when you are so much more than the sum of your parts, added together.

When your bodies are more breath than air, skin and share, and all the parts of you that you might’ve wanted to hide from the world are here, collected in the negative space between your bodies, held and loved like buried treasure.

“I love you,” he says, quietly, simply.

You gasp as you feel him pushing into you, his cock stretching you till you’re nearly breathless.

“I — I love you too.”

Zayne nods, fucks into you till he’s bottomed out, and though you can feel his arms trembling with the effort, he holds still to let you adjust. And it’s not till you give him a tiny nod that he puffs out a held breath and pulls back to fuck right back into you again. You keen, head tossing back into the mess of sheets, feeling every vein and ridge of his cock as it drags along your clenching walls.

“I don’t — I won’t be able to —” he can’t make out a full sentence, but you don’t care, just the size and weight of him are enough to make your vision blinker out at the edges.

“Mm — h-harder — please Zayne —” and its his name more than anything that proves his undoing. He lets out a clipped grunt before straightening and pulling your legs up, shifting your hips till you’re flush against him.

“Y-yeah — I’ve got you —” he gives you calf a quick kiss before rucking his hips down, his cock ramming into your g-spot hard enough for you to see stars. And then hammering into you with a desperate speed, chasing his own pleasure and it’s all you can do to keep from being tossed over the edge, too far, too fast.

“Yes — yes — yes!” you’re babbling something, nails scrabbling at his arms, his chest, his back, at anything you can reach as he pummels your abused hole, bullying his cock deeper and deeper into you till you clench around him, your orgasm blazing through you even as he shows no signs of slowing down.

“It’s — you feel — so — tight —” his pace stutters, his voice breaking over your name as he hoists one of your legs over his hips, “I’m —”

You nod, reaching up to tug a strand of hair away from his sweat-slicked forehead.

“I-inside — you can — want you to fill me up —”

Zayne keens, thrusting forward one last time before you feel him pulsing inside you, the warm spill of his cum stuffing you full till you can feel the remnants leaking down the curve of your ass. You bite your lips, swallowing hard as Zayne jerks into you a few more times till he finally stills, the pair of you both panting, your bodies sticky now with too many bodily fluids to count.

You let out a breathy laugh as he hisses, casting you a reproachful look.

“Y-you’re still hard…”

He sighs, nodding, “Yes… it’s one of the… more tedious side effects of the drug.”

He makes to pull out but you stop him, tugging him into your chest and running a hand through his sweat-soaked hair.

“You need to tell your R&D department that their antidote is very ineffective.”

Zayne chuckles, rolling onto his side and pulling you with him, the pair of you now curled into each other, his arms around you, his twitching cock still pressed inside you.

“Yes, I’ll be sure to send them a memo.”

You nuzzle further into his chest but your eyes catch on the clock hanging on the opposite wall and you frown.

“It’s only been… 43 minutes?”

Zayne glances at the clock as well before turning his gaze back towards you.

“Seems so.”

You lick your lips, feeling your mouth go dry as you feel him throb once more inside you.

“How long… did you say the effects last for again?”

Zayne heaves a very serious-sounding sigh even as you adjust yourself to be sitting over his hips, his cock sheathed inside you as you plant your hands on his chest.

“The R&D department said anywhere from a few hours to…” he lets his words trail off, a devious glint flashing behind his eyes, “in the worst cases, a few days.”

You shiver as he casually settles his palms on your hips, rocking you forward and back. You let out a hitched moan as your over-sensitive clit drags along the skin of his lower abdomen and his cock jerks inside you.

“D-days?” you echo, swirling your hips around in a soft figure 8 that has him sucking in a harsh breath, his brows furrowing with pleasure.

“Y-yeah… I’m assuming your offer of help still s-stands?” he does his level best to keep his voice dry, but his breath hitches as you pull yourself up the length of his cock before slamming back down. And already, there’s that self-same hunger eclipsing the light in his eyes as he stares down at the place where a thick ring of white has formed around the base of his cock, more liquid seeping out of you with every moment you make.

“Mm — maybe I’ll need a f-few breaks but —” you whimper as he thrust up into you, his thighs clenching beneath you, “like you said w-we just n-need to ride it out, right?”

Zayne purses his lips in concentration as he roots his feet into the bed before fucking up into you once, twice, three times, bouncing you on his cock with the sheer strength of his legs and thighs.

“Right.”

all taglist pt 1: @faeryminnyx @trashkitty @sorapricots @tricia816xoxo @nayo3ns @veetallla @notfr0mh3r3 @sh4nn @animecrazy76 @celestialforce @celestialzdiviner @m00nchildwrites @glitching-wren @ivana013-blog @rafayelsgf @pikachuzhc @angellinnie @stardewy @zombigirlfriendsblog @storyland-ofstars @xxfaithlynxx @crazy-ink-artist

all taglist pt 2: @wowunreal @boobearymuch @livonianmaia @celestialmoni @colorfulgardenerduck @bunnylechef @rikiwaify-blog @deepspacewithrafayel @nogitsune-the @carrotsandkoos @stardustwtx @yaoduriaa @queen-serena88 @stunies @simpingdailyforthem @love-and-deepstrays @small-fry28

the rest of the tags will be in the reblog!

[scorpihoe1111]

Astrology Observations: Part 3🎀🩷

Mars aspecting the ASC can give the individual a dominating demeanor, but also mainly depends on which aspect. Ex: Harmonius Aspects (trine/sextile)=Straightforward, honest, stand their ground, strong boundaries, not one to be pushed around. Harsh Aspects (square/opp)= Aggressive, domineering, rude, blunt, obnoxious.

(TW: Death) Your 8H sign and planet may tell you how you pass away. Ex: Gemini moon in the 8H= Lungs, breathing problems, asthma. Moon= emotional turmoil, stress, heart break etc

Asteroids like Medusa (149) or Aphrodite (1388) can show you what people envy about you, what they admire, where they may attempt to bring you shame etc. Ex: Medusa in the 1H can attract envy over their appearance, their aura and demeanor. People could attempt to “humble” these individuals often. Aphrodite in the 2H can make others admire your money, your possessions, may wanna know how you have what you have so they can have it too.

Aphrodite (1388) can result in people not just admiring wherever the house it’s in, but also being malicious and petty over it since they feel they deserve it more.

Lilith in the houses is similar to this, and can result in those around you being annoyed when you do things in regards to the house and sign it is in. Ex: Sagittarius Lilith in the 2H= people could be upset when you relax, when you have fun, when you don’t play by made up rules and standards, when you’re genuinely happy, when you have nice things, when you take a break, when you indulge etc, because they have this mindset of “I never got to do that/have that, why should you”. Lilith in the 1H= people getting annoyed that you may be beautiful and they’re not, painting you as a villain because you’re pretty.

Cancer moons are surprisingly really good with holding boundaries with people in their lives. These people can be lover girls/boys, for sure; but they refuse to let people take advantage of them. Their love, effort and care is reserved for those who will appreciate them in return.

(TW: Mental Health) Take this with a grain of salt since it’s just an observation and not a fact, but those I’ve met with a combo of Scorpio/Gemini in personal planets in a chart are usually diagnosed with BPD, while those I’ve met with either Virgo/Aries/Gemini in a chart combined have usually been diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder/OCD. 12H and 8H stelliums I’ve also met have had some sort of mental illness such as BPD or Schizophrenia.

Jupiter in the 1H, Sag/Pisces risings and/or Jupiter aspecting ASC/personal planets usually manage to get out of difficult situations easily. These people easily attract the help they need, the resources to do what they need, the money to get them where they want to be; very easily. Even when people with these placements/aspects get in trouble they usually manage to make it out very easily as well. Jupiter blesses and makes lucky anything it touches.

People think that Mercury in the 1H might usually talk alot about themselves, and while that may be true; it’s also true that they simply attract people who love to know about them and ask questions in regards to them. Mercury 1H individuals seem to be interesting to others and peak others curiosity about them. Others find them fascinating, thus constantly asking questions about them.

On the other hand, Mercury 3H individuals may be very close with their siblings, or their siblings can be popular/known/famous which could make the 3H person known for their siblings. This results in the 3H person consistently hearing about their siblings, getting asked questions or discussing topics in regards to their siblings. Same thing with school, this person may have either really good or really bad grades in regards to school so their main conversations with others could be in regards to school topics.

A Virgo rising individual at their worst can be obsessed with popularity/attention/validation (Leo 12H) amongst their peers. They may not come off that way, and they themselves may not even know that they secretly love being in the center. Without realizing, they subconsciously try their hardest to be the best at everything, the smartest, the prettiest/handsomest, and when at their lowest they have no issue with taking down others who they deem threatening to their spotlight. They can also be secretly judgmental of those who they deem to be lesser, or not as attractive than they are.

Similarly, I’ve noticed Scorpio Risings at their worse can be very jealous and insecure individuals as well when it comes to appearances/validation. I’ve noticed this in women with this placement mostly, but when they’re at their lowest/undeveloped, they’re the type to only be friends with or surround themselves around people they think are worse than they are whether appearance, status, popularity wise etc. Undeveloped Scorpio rising females can be very competitive and refuse to have someone who’s possibly better than they are around them, since they don’t want to be compared to the other person or not chosen/not the favorite.

Libra moon’s are the people that start the drama and then say “I don’t like drama” lol. What they really mean is they love it, as long as they’re not involved

If you find that you always have bad experiences with those whose signs fall in your 11H, check your sidereal chart. Odds are your 11H sign in your western chart is the 12H sign in your sidereal, which would explain the bad experiences.

Aquarius women are always so successful in everything they do, I’ve rarely met an Aquarius woman that doesn’t have their shit together in every category. They’re giving face, body, money, career, healthy love life and social life etc. The men on the other hand…

Yes, those with Saturn in the 7H have a hard time finding the one. They go through years of cycles and repetitive situations in love but those who find their person find their FOREVER person. People with this placement may be the last to be in a relationship/get married amongst their peers, however they’re usually the happiest and most successful once they do compared to friends or family who just hurried up and settled and usually separate/divorce. Saturn 7H’s standards and boundaries may also seem to high or unrealistic to those around them, but they’re just asking for bare minimum. It only seems that way to others around them because they were raised in a group or environment that had no standards low key.

The good thing about 2H stelliums is that you attract money, possessions and success super easily. The bad thing is that those around you could ONLY see you as your success/money, and may try to bleed you dry of what you have and take advantage. Strong boundaries and not being overly giving is recommended with these placements.

Mars in the 12H can attract people who are secretly aggressive or hostile towards them. They may never know someone is holding a grudge on them and they may attract secret animosity or competition as a result. May have issues with male figures in their life and won’t even know it.

Jupiter in the 6H, especially with Cancer or Libra there; get along with animals sooo well. These are literal pet whisperers and it’s rare for them to not have at least 3 cats/dogs. They love animals more than people sometimes.

Part 4 will be out soon. 👏🏻

[princesseilish]

RELAX, PLEASE

Clarisse la rue x Fem!Reader

Warnings: fluff, kinda short? light teasing

Synopsis: y/n wants her gf to be more mindful with her emotions

It was a calm afternoon at Camp Half-Blood, the sun casting its golden glow over the clearing. Y/N sat on one of the logs near the campfire, flipping through a book that had been handed down from the Aphrodite cabin. Clarisse was nearby, her arms crossed over her chest, eyes narrowed as she glared at the empty space in front of her.

“Claire, are you really just going to stand there and brood all day?” Y/N called out, an amused smile tugging at her lips. Clarisse huffed, clearly annoyed by something—probably the usual day-to-day nonsense that always seemed to get under her skin.

“Don’t start with me, Y/N,” Clarisse muttered, her voice tight with frustration. “I’ve had a day, okay?”

Y/N closed her book and patted the space beside her. “Come here, Claire. Let me show you something.”

Clarisse shot her a look, then rolled her eyes. “What is this, some kind of… emotional therapy session? I don’t need a lecture.”

Y/N grinned, her tone playful. “It’s not a lecture. Just trust me, okay?”

Clarisse hesitated for a moment before she stalked over and sat down beside Y/N, still clearly on edge. Y/N took a deep breath, her gaze softening as she spoke.

“You don’t always have to use frustration to deal with your emotions. There’s more than one way to handle things.”

Clarisse snorted, clearly skeptical. “That sounds stupid.”

Y/N chuckled. “It’s not stupid, Claire. Look, we can start small. When you feel that frustration building up, instead of taking it out on everyone, just… breathe. Like this.” Y/N took a slow, deliberate breath in, holding it for a second before exhaling. “See? It’s simple.”

Clarisse shot her a deadpan look. “Are you serious? Breathing? That’s your big idea?”

Y/N tilted her head, grinning mischievously. “You’d be surprised. You know, if you don’t at least try, I might have to—”

She paused, looking away dramatically before turning back to Clarisse with a teasing glint in her eyes.

“—break up with you.”

Clarisse blinked, her face dropping as she stared at Y/N. For a moment, it seemed like she didn’t even know how to respond. Y/N, realizing her joke had landed a little too seriously, scrambled for something to say. “I’m joking! I’m just kidding, Claire, relax!”

But Clarisse was already standing up, looking down at Y/N with a frown.

“No. I don’t think that’s funny.” Her voice was low, tense, and Y/N could see the hurt behind her words. “You want me to change how I handle things, and you threaten to break up with me over it?”

Y/N’s stomach twisted at the misunderstanding. She stood up quickly, grabbing Clarisse’s wrist. “No, no, listen to me, Claire. I didn’t mean it like that. I swear, I just wanted to get you to give this a shot.”

Clarisse, still not looking convinced, pulled away slightly. “Well, you didn’t make it sound like a joke.”

Y/N’s heart ached a little, seeing Clarisse’s walls go up. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I just wanted to help you feel better… and not always use anger to deal with things.”

Clarisse let out a breath, her shoulders sagging as the frustration from earlier melted away, replaced by the weight of the conversation. She ran a hand through her hair. “I’m just so… tired, Y/N. Tired of fighting everything all the time. It’s hard.”

Y/N stepped closer, taking Clarisse’s hand gently. “I know, babe. I know. But you don’t have to fight alone. And you don’t have to be angry to be strong.”

Clarisse looked at Y/N, her expression softening as she realized the depth of what Y/N was trying to say. “I… I’ll try. For you. But I can’t promise I’ll be perfect.”

Y/N smiled, pulling her into a tight hug. “You don’t have to be perfect, Claire. You just have to try.”

And for the first time that day, Clarisse actually smiled, her frustration fading into something more peaceful.

“Okay. I’ll try,” she murmured, resting her head on Y/N’s shoulder.

Y/N chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair from Clarisse’s face. “Good. And just so you know… no more breakup jokes, okay?”

Clarisse let out a small laugh. “Deal.”

As they stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world seemed just a little bit lighter.

[punksocks]

Masterlist:

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-nosey

[deathmetalunicorn1]

May I request a reader who comes from a different world who worshipped the Greek/Norse gods (Ex: Aphrodite, Hermes, Apollo, Loki), and had a good relationship with them, and comes into the ROR world all confused on why the gods want to destroy humanity… still being very respectful to the gods, even if they’re different versions of the ones they worship as long as they respect them back, but still on humanities side since they don’t what anyone to die.

I used very small information on people irl who are Hellenic pagans, and the gods seem very nice! So that compared to the ROR gods who want humans dead would be interesting.

I remember doing a similar one to this, only the world where Reader originally came from the gods were downright terrifying, like the worst versions of the gods.

-It was strange, this Valhalla looked so much like your Valhalla, the one you called home, but there were things that were so different, mainly with the gods.

-When you arrived in this Valhalla, many of the humans and gods were curious as you were from another dimension, they wanted to know about your world, like how things differed.

-The gods in both worlds looked pretty much the same, maybe with a few different fashion choices here and there, like with Aphrodite, who was more covered and had better support for her…endowments. This Aphrodite told you to explain and while a bit embarrassed, you did, “She keeps hers leashed with a supportive bra, one that is easy on her back, as she doesn’t want to risk sagging boobs by having them flying free all the time.”

-You explained, while Loki was poking your cheek with a smile on his face,  that your world’s Loki was a prankster as well, something he did enjoy, but he was less violent, not being so quick to throw hands with those who disagreed with him.

-Your Zeus was a true leader, acting mature and fatherly, helping and guiding humans, which had led to a much better relationship with humans compared to this world, and under his example, the other gods of your world followed suit.

-It was a bit humbling to hear, learning of your world where the gods actually did their jobs, monitoring and guiding humans, helping where they were able to without interfering too much, and how much happier humanity was- like there were less wars and suffering and Valhalla was like a paradise where gods and humans got along.

-They had to wonder if this Valhalla could have been like that, if they hadn’t turn their back on humanity, the thing they created, so long ago. And the humans had to wonder how their lives would have been if all the gods actually cared, and not just the few who had.

[voltronisanobsession]

Ok I had a pjo thought

What if reader was a child of Aphrodite BUT they were like the complete opposite of what a kid of hers would be?? Usually children of Aphrodite are known to care about their appearance, hair, clothes, etc. but reader is the most raggedy looking person to ever step foot in camp.

So like I haven’t read heroes of Olympus yet, so bear with me as I’m mostly gonna mention Percy, Annabeth, anybody whose mentioned in the first series. But I can just imagine Percy, Annabeth and Grover coming across reader one night and just seeing them going ham on a monster and absolutely demolishing it. Talking to them, reader is like super gruff and not so pleasant, constantly looking over their shoulder looking for any new threats, hair pointing in every direction, but still being able to look good despite it all. Like they know that reader has been surviving out in the world for a while with the dirt that’s littering their body and clothes.

It takes some convincing on their end to bring reader back to camp, but they eventually agree to go along with them. For sure Percy thinks reader is like a a child of Ares or something because of how blunt and crude they are. The other campers side eye reader once they all get to camp because DAMN do you look rough all over the edges.

Now imagine their absolute SHOCK when you reveal that you’re a child of Aphrodite. Literally no one is expecting it, not even Chiron fully believes you until you pull out a necklace that has Aphrodites symbol etched on it. Reader is everything Aphrodite doesn’t stand for, which they brush off. Dirty, almost matted hair. Dirt all over your face. Clothes sagging on readers body. Rough hands from handling your weapon after all these years. The kids of the Aphrodite cabin visibly cringe.

And you KNOW that being like this pisses Aphrodite so much. You’re dad didn’t want you and your mother never really paid attention to you, so the one way to get one of their attentions was to be everything they would despise, or highly dislike. You would have the disapproving stare of a goddess than be forgotten about entirely by your family. Of course you would never tell this to anyone, but Aphrodite would know. She will always be able to read you and your intentions.

Getting back on track, now having all these beautiful and drop dead gorgeous kids as your half siblings, they are immediately gonna do a deep clean on reader. After cleaning, your new siblings are gonna trim and cut readers hair, style it, get you new and fashionable clothing, all that fun stuff :D They love playing dress up with reader, everyone surrounding them as they prep you up for the new day, talking and tapping their hearts away while you silently drift away into your head, enjoying the attention you’re receiving.

Now when reader steps out of the cabin, everyone is gonna be STARING at them because HOLY MOLY IS THAT THE SAME PERSON??? Like your natural beauty is literally SHINING THROUGH YOURE PRACTICALLY GLOWING (which is not a coincidence since Aphrodite would totally give you some kind of blessing)

Of course that doesn’t change how reader doesn’t even act like the other Aphrodite kids, participating in sword training, climbing the rock wall, causing the others to wince at all their hard work gone down the drain. It’s during this time where reader does feel like an outcast in their cabin though because they aren’t able to relate with their half siblings as they talk about hot celebrities, or the new perfume Prada released, or the talks about designer luxury brands.

I think Annabeth would get along with reader though since to an extent, they’re able to relate to at home problems. They would grow pretty close, which means that reader would show her the special abilities they have, like charmspeak, which is an ability that uses the users voice to make a person do whatever they want. I did a bit of research about the Aphrodite cabin and saw that it’s a really rare thing for a child of Aphrodite to have. It also explains how reader was able to survive so long on the streets, often using this ability to get food, cash.

When it comes to fighting, normally Aphrodite kids usually sit things out, but not reader. No, no, no, reader immediately jumps into action, fight or flight mode activated. I like to think that despite her not liking how you chose to present yourself, Aphrodite does care for you, often silently giving you a blessing of protection while you fight. Idk it just seems like whenever you fight some monster, a pink aura tends to surround you instantly.

Overall, opposite child of Aphrodite reader is a badass. They really bring change to the cabin, showing their half siblings that there’s more than just sitting down and looking pretty.

ARGH SORRY I NEEDED TO WRITE THIS DOWN😫😫😫💔💔💔

[boymanmaletheshequel]

Symbolism of Eos

🌅☀️🌅☀️🌅☀️🌅☀️🌅☀️🌅☀️🌅☀️🌅☀️

Eos is the rosy fingered goddess of the dawn, the sister to Helios and Selene, and the daughter of Hyperion and Theia. She was known for her insatiable lust for men inflicted upon her by Aphrodite. She is a fairly unworshiped goddess for how large she is in Greek mythology, and is long overdue for a cult renaissance! Maybe we can reignite that cult by beginning with some of her divine symbolism and magickal correspondences!

🌈 colors:

- Saffron. According to Greek mythology, it is said in Theogony that lady Eos wears a saffron orange cloak reminiscent of the morning dawn’s sunrise, so saffron/orange and red are the colors typically most associated with her.

🍎 foods/herbs and spices

- Saffron. Again, although no foods or spices are explicitly stated to be divine of or sacred to Eos, it can be inferred by text that saffron is a spice that can be reasonably associated with her.

- Coffee. Although not mentioned directly, coffee is the drink perhaps most universally associated with the morning, the domain of Eos, so it can be assumed that coffee would be quite sacred to her.

- Cereal. Another breakfast item that is widely associated with the dawn and morning, cereal isn’t just a modern invention, grain cereals have existed for thousands of years, and although I’m not too certain on wether or not it’s always been a breakfast staple, the fact that it is so synonymous with it now leaves me reasonably sure it must be sacred to her!

🦌 animals:

- Grasshoppers. In the story of Eos and Tithonus, the goddess petitions Zeus for her most recent lovers immortality, however, she neglected also to request eternal youth. In time he shrivelled up by old age and transformed into a grasshopper. Classic dick move from big Z. Anyways, grasshoppers are sacred to her as a result of this incident.

🌸 flowers:

- Rose. Known for her rosy pink fingers and complexion, warmly toasted by the morning sunrise, roses are the obvious choice for lady Eos if your going for a traditional association! If you want to try something a bit more modern though..

- Morning Glory. A flower that closes up at night and opens up to the sunrise, this flower has Eos’s signature in its very name, and is a perfect flower to plant or collect in her honor!

💎 crystals:

- Sunstone. Named after the star she is iconic of, sunstone is an easy choice as a crystal or gemstone to equate to the goddess, it’s glorious orange hues are very reminiscent of her glory.

- Crocoite. A fairly obscure one, Crocoite is literally derived from the Latin name for saffron, due to its extremely fragile nature and beautiful hot orange color. A great special addition to an altar or shrine to her!

🪐 planets:

- The sun. Obviously, being the goddess of the sunrise, the sun is the planet that reigns as her sacred domain, a trait she shares with other sun related deities like Helios and Apollo.

☄️ astrology:

- Sagittarius. A fiery, passionate goddess with a history of Ill fated love and nearly debilitating lust, mother Eos is almost certainly a sag.

☀️ other iconography:

- Pitcher. In many Ancient Greek depictions of the goddess, she can be seen carrying a pitcher or watering can, a symbol of a new day and its fertility and awakening new growth it brings.

- Tiara. She is also known to wear a beautiful tiara that is always sitting upon her head, much like the shape of the sun rising in the morning over a hill!

🌅☀️🌅☀️🌅☀️🌅☀️🌅☀️🌅☀️🌅☀️🌅☀️

Do you know of Eos? And if so, what do you find epitomizes her glory and beauty for you? Let me know! If you like this post and wish to learn more about the gods of Hellen, consider following my blog! Happy day and blessings 🏛️💙

[biteme-gum]

Perfect Pictures

Mickey Altieri x Reader

TW: 18+ | Possessive | Stalking | Kidnapping | Video taping | Picture taking | Dead dove do not eat | Bondage |

All content that you consume on your media is your thing, I don't care what you do.

"Guess what, Beautiful?"

the echo of his foot steps surrounded your isolation, banging in your ear drums as your head lulls to the side.

"You made the front cover! Again!" You could hear his excitement, if not in his voice, you could hear it in the way he moved, the wrinkling of the news papers waving in his over enthusiastic hand gestures.

Your arm ached as he leaned over your chair, the feeling of his breath hitting the side of your face made you want to gag.

"I always knew you could do it, You're Picture perfect." His whispers blow around your left ear, you could feel his jeans crinkle against your arm, his zipper scraping into your skin as he bends down, breathing heavily into the side of your neck.

the pitch black fabric wrapped around your eyes insured little comfort, your head felt like a balloon being lifted into the air, a stabbing spike hitting the side of your brain.

a small. wet. kiss hit the side of your neck, a pit wanted to swallow you whole. your eyebrows furrowed as small dark patches seep into the fabric, an uncomfortable chill running down your spine.

His forehead rests in the crook of your neck, a slight groan crawled its way up your throat as he moves his left arm to rest in front of him. with a slight tilt on his wrist, you could hear the waves of paper balancing through the air.

"They used the wrong photo." He mumbled, a sigh escaping his nose as he sits up, a small whish cut through the air as the sheets flopped on the floor, discarded in disgust. "Your school photos always looked so... forced." his hand lightly touches your head, a small stroke from his thumb. "Amateurs."

"The pictures we take are masterpieces. Don't you think so?" He lifted himself off of your arm, moving around to only god knows where.

"I wonder if I gave your parents those photos we took at the end of last term. Do you think they would use them? That smile you had while you presented your year end project. You looked so nervous, so shy..." click

a heavy weight hits the side of your head as your head falls forward, parts of your hair falling over your face, sticking to your forehead.

click, click

"You must be one of the descendants of Aphrodite, and I'm your fierce lover. Aphrodite and Ares, Love of the ages. Passionate," click "Secretive" click click "Complex." he sighs, all you could hear was fabric moving around, until hurried footsteps come to a stop in front of you.

His hands reach up, steady on the sides of your head, cupping your face, lifting your soaked face towards his prying eyes. Piercing even shrouded in silence.

His thumbs, caressing your cheeks. Cold hands burning against your heated cheeks. His left hand sliding up to catch against the fabric boundary, the smallest protection you have, being able to pretend like its all a dream, just a bad dream.

Then just like that, a piercing white stabs your eyes, your head shooting to the right, rolling on your shoulders.

You could hear Mickey tutting as his right hand caresses your jaw, this thumb following the outline of the duct tape glued onto your damp skin.

"Your eyes were always so sensitive, That's what makes them so beautiful." He leans towards your face, his thumb stroking your cheek in false comfort. "You're perfect."

His hand gliding to take a hold of your chin, slowly tilting your head back, eyes slowly fluttering open to the beaming square stage lights in all directions.

Beyond the dark glow of his silhouette, a bold flashing red light, the reflective surface mocking you, a sick memory to relive.

It felt like hours before he decided to step back, releasing all contact, allowing gravity to pull your head to sag in front of you.

"Now, princess.. we have to look at the camera to capture your beauty." His hand grabbing a handful of your hair. pulling your head into the position he felt was natural. "Now stay still."

A big, winning smile grows on his face, moving backwards towards his camera, set perfectly in front of you.

"Now say cheese." click, and flash.

"Beautiful." flash.

"Perfect." click.

white flooring. flash.

wooden chair. click.

bare legs. flash.

"Its like your beauty grows every day." He lifted the camera, moving it to a separate table near the wall, "I'll show you the photos later, Processing them by hand, all for me."

"Watching your body... slowly burn into the paper." His mumbling traveling across the solid walls.

You watch him, eyes following him as he walks towards you. one. final. time.

"My model, my goddess, Mine. Forever."

He bends down, a puff of cold air hits your forehead before his lips. His hand taking the now visible black fabric, thick, with a singular knot.

A small cry escapes the barrier blocking your face, shaking your head, eyes pleading.

"I can't have you flashing those beautiful eyes at anyone else. These are all mine."

His hands take the blind fold and slowly move it over your eyes, a burnt in traced of the room where it once was.

"I'll see you in a few hours."

A small peck touched your covered eye, a final deep breath, the thick air, following his receding steps and the lock of a door.

[illumnis]

oh, time turner. ― you could've pushed through the hurdles instead of ending it at once; but the time was going to pass anyways, right? time has done it's work, you're different people now, with different lives and different minds, so why do the two of you still hold onto who you used to be- to each other, you mean. no one can blame you, we all have the same hearts as yesterday after all.

pairing: various x gn!reader

warnings: just angst no comfort, codependency?? or just attachment, both of you are sad and sentimental, this was gnna be a vent but i got carried away and instead made this, i am so sorry. (inspired by promise by laufey if that makes it hit even harder)

art creds: holly warbuton (pls correct me if im wrong hhh)

time has passed, but the same sparrow still perches at your window sill.

sparrows, they say, represent love- an extension of aphrodite herself, the goddess of love and beauty.

you wish you could say it was ironic; how this same sparrow stilled, perched on your window as your and you partner came to the painful agreement to end things. you wish you could say it's ironic, how this sparrow; who still, despite two years- which people may say it's not a long time, but its seven hundred thirty days. seven hundred thirty days that you heart is left to mend, or your brain is to abandon information to take in something new; something that matters more than something that did seven hundred and thirty days ago. - still perches at your window will. a sparrow that represents love, a sparrow who watched a piece of you walk out with someone, still right there.

you wish you could say- but you can't, because despite the time, the minutes, and the seconds, and the hours, and any and every interval of time, you still love them.

(more under the cut)

the piece of you that they walked out with did not die the moment it left its home. much like how a flower separated from its roots to join a beautiful bouquet- it's quite sad in reality, stripping a flower away from its freedom to make its own food or water itself on its own accord; maybe that's why...

why you still find yourself depending on you ex-lover, or at least, the parts you abandoned of yourself that did depend on your ex-lover, you still hold onto. like the sagging flower- which its sagging may look obnoxious, but really, it's coming apart at it's seams, starting from the stem, to the leaves, to its- begging for it's owner...

'please water me' it begs.

'please look after me, you're all i have. for i cannot walk on two legs. for i cannot turn to the sun on my own- i only have your artificial lighting. for i no longer have my home, my roots.'

you're thankful, at least, that you aren't a flower cut away from its roots, and do not require someone to keep you alive in the same conditions.

however, you do long for that part of you again; along with the care of your ex-lover. it's a different codependency you think- yet, just as shameful.

two long years, he had found you again on social media, sending you a friendly dm, asking to meet at a cafe like old times.

old times. a petal plucked from your head, marking a time in your life you held dear. old times.

you agree, and of course; it's different.

there are old times, and there are new times. old times, as in the name, are not something you can relive, not something you can take back.

you and him are not the same people you were when you were together. but despite all of this- the longing, the string connecting your hearts together is retied. the feelings are left unsaid, but you both know.

you both know it's there but there is no acknowledgement, there is no attempt at rekindling the fire. the both of you know that either way, you will end up hurt.

two years ago, you two were different lovers, different views as to the ones you have now, different attitudes, different lives. so what would be the harm of trying again?

the harm is that you both still have the same heart. new wounds, sure, but mended does not mean new. the scar is still there, the love, the memories, but also the flaws, the causes of your disagreements, and the reason you ended it in the first place.

there was no trying again. this was it. despite the hurt, despite the pain of parting; or despite- if in another universe, you ended up rekindling the fire that burnt out two years ago- the pain that would come if you got back together, there was still love.

you hate to settle. he does too, you know that. the two of you hated to settle because of the possibility of better.

but the two of you always find that, around each other, that's just naturally what you do.

even if it was never down together, you settle.

― men who, despite the pain, still love. who gratefully take a piece of everyone they have every cherished, and cared for it with their entire being: diluc, kaeya, xiao, venti, kazuha, megumi, yuji, yuuta, gorou, kaveh, alhaitham, wriothesley, nanami, neuvillette, childe.

navi. mlist.

[moonmaiden1996]

Summoned Part 2

Rumours around the absence of the Dream Lord had been circling for the last 100 years or so. Every possibility had been verbalised, not that you believed any of it. Something had happened. It was impossible not to have felt the disturbance, the delicate balance that had completely been thrown off. The world was not the same after that; it became aimless and bitter. Wherever and whyever he disappeared to seemed to be the reason the being wanted to restamp his mark on the universe upon his return.  

The endless were a strange lot but never had they married. Even Night had not married Time. So, the announcement sent shock waves through the waking world. Who he chose would become consort to the Dreaming and restore themselves to their previous glory, if not greater.   

The age of gods and goddesses was long over, and most had perished to Time; most faced annelation in a fury only to whimper out like a damp spark. Others, like yourself, faded, clinging to the last vestige of their power. Your cauldron allowed you to brew your potions and inspire just enough to still exist; others had clung to their earlier fame, trying to retrain what they once had.   

You grimace as you linger on the outside of the crowds. Too far away to see the King astride his throne save for those eyes, like burning stars watching impassively as Mightly Thor thrust up his hammer into the air sending a stream of lightening above the crowds. A great brooding cloud dominated room, sending a savage downpour of frozen rain onto the marble floor, drenching the other gods and goddesses. Aphrodite shrieked at her robes, sagging and crumpling in the water, causing the bulging redhead god to chortle ungracefully as he bowed off.   

One after the other, each God or goddess gifted the Dream Lord with an offering, each in competition with the last. Hermes had gifted a pair of golden wings, Aphrodite a large pearl seashell with nymph attendants who cowered beneath the shell as they proffered it up. Jiurtain Xuanniu offered her own phoenix egg, Inanna her eight-pointed sun. Thor, his thunder. Your offering was so insignificant in comparison. Though you crafted your best potions and elixirs, nested in a twisted basket of purest vines of inspiration nurtured by yourself, it was simply not enough.  

It was not that you did not want to be the future queen; you would be restored, elevated above anything you had previously been. You would lie if you said you hadn't plotted against the others. Being a goddess of knowledge gave you a slight edge in this race. You knew exact strengths and weaknesses of the other contenders and exactly how you wanted to present yourself. 

You had painstakingly weaved traditional robes, tied at the shoulder with your mother's Celtic knot. Not the elegant silks or plush furs of the others but it showed of your comely figure. You even placed your hair perfectly, to reveal your graceful neck and decolletage, even applied one of your own balms to your face and body. You looked beautiful but were not a goddess of beauty or love. Nor held the power that might beguile him. Your skill should be enough to catch the Endless's attention. But a deep sense of unease settled within you.  

The pageantry was sickening, fawning and fighting over a throne that would stop them from going a little further. Peitho had already taunted Eros to tears and had some of her follower's spill wine over Bathsheba's gown, no doubt under Aphrodite's orders. Peitho's outfit was undoubtedly an attempt to seduce, if it could call it an outfit. She wore a thin sheer belt around her waist tied at the hip, just enough to hide the lower regions of her body; her upper body was completely bare bronze breasts stood proudly out, no doubt to gain favour. It was not just them; the others had preened themselves too. The remaining Valkyries wore full flowing gowns and thick leather breastplates; one of their spears had already maimed some deity causing quite a scene, enough to solicit a sharp, steely glare from the King at his thrones. The room was tense, rippling with need and a sense of urgency, a perfect atmosphere for war. You had not fought in the hundreds of battles on earth and had no intention of wanting to fight now, even if that meant you were restored.  

"Lady of the Cauldron, goddess of knowledge, inspiration, witchcraft, and medicine. Daughter of Ceridwen. You may approach and submit your offering." the raven voice rang clear across the throne room.   

You were so lost in thought that you had not realised the line had advanced. Shaking off your thought, you inclined your head before proffering the basket you had made. Forcing your eyes up, you held your gaze demurely.  

Up close, he was nothing like you had imagined. He has been crafted in a star, skin like diamond dust hair as if it had been crafted by Night itself, which of course, it had been. The red of his ruby shone out against the paleness of his cheek where it laid just above his heart, that's if he had a heart, to begin with.  

Mercury's eyes held you. Swirling like a hurricane, you were not blind to the atrocity he has caused, the pain and suffering, what God had not caused that, but there was something hollow in the God. Empty. Desolate   

"I... I offer you my best potions, my knowledge of hearth and home, and the inspiration of every artisan. To aid you in seeking prosperity." The words sounded as weak as you felt. You had this grand gestured speech planned, practised to perfection, but it died on your lips like hopes. 

Bowing your head, you lifted the basket for the attendant, who plucked it from your hands. Like the other, the King remained silent, his gaze burning into you as you retreated backwards till you could no longer see his eyes.  

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  

Upon the dance banquet hall, you pondered who would be chosen. Would it be an embodiment of war or of peace, love or beauty? He may even pick one of the elemental creatures gracing the room. Maybe even a fairy or selkie. The Dream Lord gave nothing away, treating every one of his offerings with indifference. So, when the last offering had been given, and the feast called, there was a certain amount of disappointment that no proposal was made.   

Fountains of nectar and waterfalls of nectar flowed in the great hall. Fruits and pastries glistened under the touches that lined the walls. Steam trailed from palates of boar, suckling pigs, venison, turkeys, geese, game, poultry, brawn, great joints of meats, long wreaths of sausages, pies, barrels of oysters, red hot chestnuts, immense cake, and seething bowls of pudding. There were jugs of mead, negus, ale and beer and tankers of toddy. Food that you had long forgotten even existed piled high like in the times of old.   

Yet you ate nothing, touched nothing. While all around you gouged and made merry, you wished to escape. There was something in his eyes, something bewitching, something that terrified you. Endless magic was, after all, completely different from the magic any of the gods and goddesses possessed. All the knowledge you and your cauldron have amassed it was all useless here, this was unknown. You were not prepared to allow yourself the foolishness and quick tempted reactions that had befell your mother to her fate.   

"Lady of the Cauldron,’’ a strange voice called from an even stranger creature dressed in a heavily embroidered waist coat. ‘’I must say your offering is one of my favourites; the basket style is... unique never seen such interesting wood." A strange creature primely bowed to you. 

"They are vines of inspiration; they used to grow worldwide till... I cultivated these myself, enthused them with my potions; they should still bloom and spread their pollen to bless the King and his new consort’’ you politely dipped your head.  

"Ahh, the flower... I have read about your illustrious flowers. Blooms that inspired some of the greatest minds...’’  

A soft glow flowered within you; it had been years since anyone had even acknowledge your blooms and a need to reward that praise. 

"Then take this..." You smiled unwinding one of the flowers that decorated your hair. 

'My lady...I simply cannot..."  

'You are by far the nicest creature here; take it as a token of apparition for being nice. I hope the bloom inspires you." You offered. 

‘’Thank you" And with that, the pointy ear creature plucked the flower from your hand and placed it in their lapel as an uproar surged in the room.  

"What is happening?"  

"The king is giving out Golden Apples to those he deems agreeable to court for his potential future consort." The creature primely supplied the answer, as they adjusted the flower, smelling the fragrant bloom. 

Straining your neck, you peered above the crowd. Of course, Aphrodite has an apple, held aloft in the air as she was carried on the soldiers of her nymphs. A few other apples shone brightly around the room, though those who had received them were obscured as the rest of the guests crowded around to see the precious apples. Which meant the festivities were over, and you were finally free to return home. 

Free... 

"Will you honour me by accepting this apple," A deep voice pulled through the air despite the calamity around you. 

Beside you, the shadowy figure curled over you, his eyes burning like a dying star as the bared down. Your eyes strained at the brightness of the apple, recoiling as it was held higher by the pale hands. An apple? For you? A shiver of pride or was its terror ran through you as you regard it for moment. A legendary golden apple, like the ones that once graced the silver branches of Ireland and the tree on top of Mount Olympus. 

"Lady of the Cauldron, will you not honour me with your acceptance, or am I unworthy of your affections and to be your future husband?"  

His skin burned into your fingertips as you delicately plucked the golden from his open palm. Mutely staring at it in your cupped hand, so large and plump and so heavy. 

"A gift as a token of goodwill, I hope to find my consort among you.' the Dream Lords voice reverberated against the walls. "Take a bite."   

The others had already sunk their teeth into their apple before he had finished his words, moaning in ecstasy as they devoured their apples.   

"Take a bite, Lady of the Cauldron you wouldn’t want to offend me."  his voice echoed darkly in your ear as hesitantly your teeth sunk into the golden flesh. 

His eyes burnt in you as the fresh sour crunch burst in your mouth, chocking you as the juice tickled down your chin and neck.  

Thank you so much for all your feedback! It really helped me to write this! It’s a mix of legends and myths and hopefully you like the direction it is taking. Please like and leave comments if you can  

Question- who else do you think received an apple? Might be some god/goddess rivalry next :p

@musemaniac42 @aralezinspace @boofy1998 @cipher-needs-2-sleep @avatar4eva (couldn't tag) @sassenach-the-pie-maker @ella33 @suszanne @ladyredstar1991 @alexander-arcturus-black @maripositanoctruna @xushisuxi @imaginovator @dotieeee @honeybeezgobzzzzz @cryban6 @lonelyladyghost

[persephone11110]

My Own Aphrodite

Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Warnings:body image issues, self esteem issues, past self blame, issues, society sucks, sucky beauty standards, weight scale, past body shaming, pervy men, digusting school system, misogyny, curse words, tiny bit of smut, happy ending

prompt: ❛you’re beautiful, you know that? ❜credit: @nightprompts

I wrote this based on my personal experiences

ALL BODIES ARE BEAUTIFUL!! :)

reader nickname is Angel

This is a prequel to Hold Me Baby, but you don’t have to read it to understand. But u should tho— no pressure :)

-

Past

You could feel eyes burning into your chest.

“Miss L/n, it hurts me that you seemed to forgotten our three fingers straps rule” Mr. Lee sounded hurt, you could see something being scribbled down on the notepad that was currently in his hands. He ripped the paper off and walked towards your desk and handed it to you—“The last thing the boys need is a big distraction, do you want to cause a disruption in our classroom?, he didn’t give you time answer—“Go to the nurses office for a cover up or go home”. He proudly walked away with a smirk on his face.

“What!” you muttered under your breathe. You quickly jumped from your chair— scared of the consequences if you refused. Mr. Lee creepily stared at your chest, you started to blush in embarrassment, is this what he meant?- your body is distracting.

“See what I mean Y/n your causing me a distraction” he gestured toward your breast.

“Please leave now”

Tears started to drip from your face. I didn’t mean too. your lips begin to wobble.

As you drag yourself through the empty halls sour thoughts seemed to paralyze your mind.

“Why couldn’t I be smaller?”

“Did Mr. Lee have a point?”

“Honey” the secretary of the school Ms. June called out to you.“Honey if Mr. Lee sent you down here for a cover up, the nurse doesn’t have anymore to give”.

More tears slipped down your face.

“I’m so sorry Honey unless you find something i’m going have to send you home”. A pinch of sadness crossed over Ms. June’s face.

You didn’t have to tell her. You could see her hand moving fast as she scribbles something down.

“I’m sorry Y/n” you looked down at the piece of paper— a permisson slip that required your signature stating that you were leaving early.

“Thank you” you whispered.

You walked away with tears pouring down your face. “Why me? , Why me?” you kept repeating to yourself. “Did I really deserve this?”

How were you supposed this explained to your parents?

I am a distraction.

- -

Present

“Angel you looked great in that one” Bradley told you— and you were pretty sure he’s said that fifteen dresses ago. He relaxingly sat on the bench inside of the dressing room- his phone tossed to the side, even though it occasionally tinged Bradley ignored it. He assuring you that all his attention was on you.

You messed with straps, trying to lift them higher.

You we’re trying to cover up your cleavage.

Your shoulders sagged—dressing shopping had been a lose cause and too add it to it you dragged your husband Bradley alongside hoping to get a good opinion— but all he’s been offering you is five stars reviews on each and every dress you’ve tried on so far. (kind bastard). You atleast thought he give you his honesty and tell how ugly you’ve looked in all of them — telling you how disappointing it was to been soulmates with the ugliest woman alive.

“Angel whats wrong with this one?” he asked curiously— surely Bradley saw how grotesque you were?, yet his eyes and body language showed otherwise. You and him were both tired— You pulled Bradley out of bed at the ass crack of dawn to try on dresses. Now your starting to regret bringing him here— you wasted his and your time.

“N-Nothing,Nothing” you shakily start to take off the dress. You felt the dress slip down to your body onto the floor.

You sniffle, your face is getting hotter and hotter by the second.

“Y/n?” he tries.“I didn’t mean to insult you—”

Did he do something wrong?

You were gone. It seemed like you were in your own world. Subconsciously you curl into yourself- seemingly hiding your body from him.

“Angel”, he didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.

“I’m sorry Bradley—let just go home” you broke out your trance, you doubted you find a dress in time for the navy gala.

Weeks ago the scale showed you a number you didn’t like and now your body is reflecting it.

Your suddenly on the floor picking up the dress— there you go again getting stuck in your own world.

He could see your brain spinning fast, he hears the evil voice in the back of your head telling you how ugly you were.

Soon Bradley was on the floor with you—right now he needed to get to the bottom of this, he needed to make this right. “Angel”

Distraction.

“Angel—can you hear me?” he voice is sweet and gentle. He gives you minute to answer him— times like this he knows how hard it is for you to pull yourself out of so much darkness.

He shouldn’t have too see you like this. He shouldn’t even have to be in the same room as you.

“Ready” he asks you.

“Yeah” your voice was equivalent to a prey moving through predator territory. Quiet and unsteady.

“C’mon here” he gestures with his hand. “it’s okay Y/n”. Bradley reassures you after seeing the look of terror and uneasiness on your face.

Its the easiest job you’ve ever done. Your face is already in the crook of his neck. After everything that had been going on you only had one question— why is he so fucking soft? metaphorically and literally.

“Talk to me Y/n” he tells you. “Let me in”.

Bradley gently dragging his hand up down your back— he’s slowly coaxing you back to calmness.

You sigh.“I really want toBradley… but what if you don’t like what I say?”. His fingers pause for a second.

“Even If I don’t like it Angel, I still want to hear whats wrong— your feelings are justified, I still want to help you”. Bradley says with sternly yet softness is bleeding into his voice.

You can’t help but melt at that.

Even when you tried building your defenses higher, Bradley kept knocking them down.

“Distraction” you decided with.

“Y/n?” you could feel the gears spinning in Bradley’s head.

“I don’t want to be an distraction Bradley” you tell him again, was he purposefully not listening to you?

You could feel his face turn into a frown.

“Y/n how are you distracting?” he asked you. “Do you mean your distracting me?”.

Remember what he said— “Let me In”

“My breast their.. their so big” your voice is wobbling again like earlier. You wished you could talk without being a baby.

“Angel I’m not some teenage boy who’s gets distracted by the sight of breast” he seems hurt by the accusation.

“No” you sighed. “They cause disruption”. Your talking like it’s was true— you talked liked no ones ever told you it’s wrong.

Then it dawned on him, someone told you this when you were young. Someone hurt his wife.

And someone never told you otherwise.

The grip on you slightly gets tighter.

“Angel” Bradley shaking his in disbelief and disgust. “You are not distracting, your body doesn’t cause disruption.

“But—” you attempt to argue.

“But nothing Angel, who ever told you is full of shit and they couldn’t control themselves around a child… there is nothing wrong with you” , you pull your face from Bradley neck. He sounds so sure of himself.

He’s angry, his jaw clenched.

Guilt eating at you. And sure enough Bradley could see it.

“No, No Angel” his voice is coated with softness .

“I’m not mad at you- I’m irritated that no one ever corrected you”.

“Yeah me too, but I’m glad I have you” you throw your arms around him.

He’s hugging you back“I’m glad you found me”.

Confidence is now seeping through your veins.

“Bradley I like the last one”

Fuck Mr. Lee

“Me too Angel— it fits you like a glove and friday evening i’m going to enjoy ripping it off you”. Bradley stroking your back again.

You blushed. It’s amazing how your husband always manages to turn a sweet moment into a horny one”.

“Likewise Bradley Bradshaw—If you get off me fast enough we could have enough time for a pregame before my shift” you hum in amusement— fully knowing how feral your husband was.

He flings you up, “hurry up Angel and grab the dress”. Bradley moving around in the dressing room— he’s even cleaning and grabbing your other dresses.

He acting like a headless chicken.

Bradley starts fishing for his keys—not even giving you a chance to pay first. He practically throws his credit card into the cashier hand.

He wasn’t slowing down either.

“Come on Angel, time to go!”

[the-kr8tor]

Apologies for no daily hobie hc yesterday- the weather seems to be against me>:( Daily Hobie HC! Song: When She Smiles by Gigi Perez (I know the song has a different meaning but I can't help but think of it as this way) You're stunning, angelic, blessed by the soft trickle of rain during a ceasing storm and Aphrodite herself. The moment Hobie saw you he was captivated by, not only your beauty, yet the way your smile shone so brightly. The entire time you and Hobie were friends, he could never stop wishing to embrace you lovingly, to hold you close and never let you go. He wanted to be the one next to you on the cold nights, the one making you smile that bright smile. He knew your deepest secrets, consoling you caringly in his arms on your darkest nights, when your heart was heavy with grief and your mind fighting you. You came to him, hugging him close and sobbing your deepest fears out into his chest on Hobie's sofa. Once you had cried yourself to the point of exhaustion, he'd always lend you pajamas to sleep over, letting you take the other side of his bed, not wanting your broken self to sleep on the couch. Over time, the smile he always saw on a plain scale became more in depth. Hiding the thoughts that lingered in your head, eating away slowly at your restless soul. Hobie couldn't help but further want to hold you against him, slowly learning that. He wanted to pick you up when you were down, and if you didn't want to be picked up, Hobie wanted to be the person to lay down with you and hold you against him. Hobie didn't want to force his feelings upon you, not wanting to trouble your mind further. You laughed until you cried at his jokes, went thrifting together, bought food for each other and so on. Hobie loved going out and about with you, seeing how you paused to crouch for every cat or how you would hype yourself up to ask someone if you could pet their dog. He fondly remembers one time where you had approached a lost kid, the two of you walking around the downtown shops with the kid protected in between you two, finally finding the parents after almost an hour of searching. You instilled a sense of happiness into everyone, despite not feeling it within yourself. So when one late night, when Hobie's spidey senses randomly went off, he knew it was you, and you needed him for than ever now. You felt locked inside the prison of your mind, your thoughts growing louder, taunting you within the darkness of your room. Pain grew from your stomach to your head, enveloping your entire body as you tried to fight your way through with the last bit of strength you had, but everything weighed you down. Your life, experience, past, were shackles, pulling you down to hell where you probably belonged. Who even were you? What was your favourite colour? Food? Drink? Animal? Were you really you, or are you a shadow of your parents destined to walk the same road of claws and teeth. Could you really make a change, or was this all for nothing? Why did you even have hope to begin with, knowing nobody would have hope for you. You try to scream, but nothing comes out, your voice hoarse and garbled from choking on your own breath. Hobie managed to slip in your room just in time, seeing your body shaking violently on the ground with their hands digging into your skin, nails drawing beads of blood to rise. He dragged your blanket off of your bed and covered you in it, your eyes flying open as you return to the world of color. You felt Hobie's arms around you, his silence instilling a sense of...oddity. Everything that has happened, and yet he still embraces you like it's..okay. You feel tired. So, so tired. Tired but too tired to even attempt to go. Your shoulders sag, letting his warm embrace linger on your cold body. -🐦‍⬛

That's alright, my love please take care!

Daily Hobie HC ❤️❤️❤️

I gotta listen to that!

CW depression

OH MY GOD HOLD ON I'M CRYING?? 😭😭

I did not expect for this to be angsty AHHHHHHH

This one hit close to home I want a hug from Hobie now 😭

The way you described all the happiness alongside the sadness had me weak like that's very accurate 🥲

Hobie loves R so much that his spidey senses went off and told him to get to their side immediately 🥹🥹

[lumina--writes]

Temporal Heartbreak

Chapter 1: Whom You Remember

Next

Broken Hearted after the loss of his wife Simon "Ghost' Riley falls for the spitting image of his wife from another world and time. Swept up in the moment of life and death, can Simon see past the look-alike and similarities to focus on saving the world?

This is taken from my Wattpad thought about cross-posting here, this is a short story.

Spring has always been his favorite season when flowers bloom and color seeps back into the world. On those days when buttercups bloom, she always comes back. He looks down and at his feet is a pretty buttercup flower, gazing up at him.

"Simon!" Then he turns around to see a girl running to him, backpack swinging side to side. Her bright smile warmed him to his heart. Her hair shone like gold in the sun. Her cheeks were rosy and pink in the cold spring air.

"Cecilia," he whispers, his lips curling into a soft smile. She crashed into his arms giggling and smiling so wide her smile was as bright as the sun.

"I miss you," she giggles her smile wide and gentle. So did he. He missed her so dearly, she was his safe place, and whenever she was around, he felt fearless.

"You wanna play?" She innocently asks her voice like wind chimes. The little boy smiles and nods the two racing off to her little playground in her backyard—a safe place.

"Push me higher!" She squeals as the boy pushes with all his might. Beautiful spring flowers bloom in her yard. A bright big smile adorns his face. She swings high and falls back shaking the entire playground set.

Her laughter rings loudly in the quiet neighborhood. Simon smiles hearing her laugh with such freedom. When she's around he feels truly invincible, a fearless hero. Her hero.

He loves her, with all his heart. She made his horrific world less dull. Like an angel. Like a buttercup, she glowed in the sun. Her home was always welcoming him in. If he could he like to stay with them, with her forever. She's a beautiful rainbow after a rough storm.

The summers were his favorite time, with no school, away from his house of horror, and his buttercup. He spends hours with her, talking, playing, watching movies. Sometimes they just sit outside, and she makes flower crowns for them.

She was truly angelic, kind, and sweet, all his time with her was nothing but a dream come true. The nice summer goes by quickly when every day is wonderful.

"Yay! Let's get ice cream!" She cheers celebrating her little wins against him in games. She takes the boy by the hand and marches inside laughing. Her smile made him warm and safe.

His primary years though rough were always held in fold memories. Her smile seemed to warm every cold moment in those times. He thought he had forever with her, she was his first love. He wished to marry her when they were older.

Simon was ten when it all happened. It was a nightmare, a never-ending nightmare. She moved to another school, dramatic if you ask him now, but back then it ruined him. She was gone before he knew it. She moved across the world away from him. He remembered it so clearly, the day she told him tears in her eyes.

Simon never forgot her, but he also knew seeing her again wasn't likely.

But fate was on his side.

Tommy was a few months clean, his father was out of the house prominently, hell even Tommy found a nice girl Beth. It was a spring day, buttercups blooming, and his heart sagged at the old memories pulling at his mind. Did she come calling?

"Simon?" He looked up there the sun behind her hair shining like a saintly glow did his heart nearly stopped, she was everything he remembered and so much more, like one of Aphrodite's children.

"Cecilia..." He whispers out.

He never believed those hallmark romance movies, but in that single spring break, he fell in love again. The way he smiled at her, held her hands, and let her ramble about anything she wanted truly was heavenly. She was his date when Tommy and Beth got married, and when Joseph was born.

At the first breath of spring, the first bloom of buttercups did he know it was time. A ring later he took her back to their childhood playground, her old childhood house he bought, and asked her to marry him.

"Every spring was difficult for me; every time I see a buttercup I think of your long blonde hair. And every time I remember you, I remember being incredibly happy... You are the most beautiful woman I've ever got the fortune to meet." Simon said swallowing his tears, but his eyes were glassy.

"Simon Riley since the day I left I've always thought of you and miss playing with you. From here to the end of our lives in sickness and health I hope we stay together for this lifetime." Cecilia said with a wide smile more excited than sentimental.

It all came crashing down three years later.

Simon Riley knows violence it was his occupation, but the scene he stumbles across truly makes him sick. His Mother was on the couch neck sliced open, and his brother and Beth's bodies were in Joseph's room protecting him with their body. But in the kitchen, body distorted and brutalized, dress shoved up was his beautiful buttercup...

Withered and petals on the ground her innocence is gone, was his one and only wife. He fell to his knees picking up her dead body, the bronzed handprints around her neck gave it away. He gave into her frightened dull eyes, before closing them.

That day Ghost was born.

And that night Simon Riley died with his family, holding his wife...

He truly became a man then, all the innocence of childhood gone with time and the wind.

Ghost always hates dreaming of her, dreaming about being Simon. Dreaming about happier times. He didn't want to remember her. She's dead, and he can't change that.

Yes, she haunted him. Her smile, her laughter, her voice— all haunted him. He couldn't run from her, from the love he felt. His heart always still longs for her.

His Buttercup.

He knows it's all in his head, but he wishes she haunted him, maybe then he could have peace with the last remnant of his childhood, of a pure love long lost, he wished for one last time he could talk to Cecilia.

---------------------------------

The mission is chaotic, it instantly goes south as soon as they arrive, a gruesome dogfight begins, seizing lands inch by inch. 141 ran into a building where Makarov's Konni group was working on something strange.

They were building something strange, a machine... maybe a new weapon for war, the clues for what they were building were scattered. Laswell and Shepard are working on decoding this new machine and the task force is hunting it down.

They burst into the room, and there were four men moving buttons and gears, before anyone could react one of those men pushed something and the machine started.

With synchronizing shots, the four men were down. Soap rush forwards.

"Watcher 1, we capture the weapon but it's on." He shouts into the radio.

"Alright Bravo 7-1, Bravo 0-7 go to the other side and flip the switch," Ghost moves without a second thought and lift the switch. A jolt of electricity runs through him, and he lets out a grunt of pain.

"Laswell!" Price shouts as the Machine swirls even faster as if they activated it from a meandering state.

"God damn it," she said over the comms, and soon the machine produces a bright eye irritating glow and they all winced. The light fades and there standing is a woman.

"Whit a beautiful woman," Soap gasps out. Ghost blinks furiously and looks.

His heart stopped, his mouth grew dry as a desert, and he clutched his gun even tighter.

Her once long golden hair was short and brown, but that face was still hers, those beautiful... her eyes were different...

"Put your hands up!" Gaz yells pointing his gun at her.

Simon almost runs forward to protect his wife, but Ghost stays back because he knows that the perfect woman is gone. She looks around face shocked.

"Captain?" She calls out. Price stiffens and looks at this woman with caution.

"McTavish," Soap froze and he shakily looked at her. She looks around and down at the thing in her hand. It was a folded uniform of a SAS member.

"Me?" Soap slowly said, he turned to Ghost them Price, why him of all of them him?

"Captain McTavish." She repeats, she looks around confused, "and you must be Captain Price."

"How do you know us?" Price asks his gun trained on her.

"You served with my Husband."

"Who?" Gaz asks.

"Simon Riley."

---------------------------------

"Start from the beginning," Sergeant McTavish asks his eyes darting to the one-way glass window. He felt nervous asking this pretty woman to explain this ridiculous story of hers.

"Where do I begin?"

"Start with how you met your husband."

"Well, it starts with a woman named Beth. We became friends and one day I was hanging out with her and her boyfriend when my future husband turned up. From there we just fell in love."

"How do you know me?" Soap asks, he had to hear it again. She smiled as if his question was a little ridiculous.

"You are a captain of 141 and worked with my Husband. You... you were the one to tell me my husband died in person. You couldn't stay you were so busy, but you wanted to do it in person." Soap subconsciously nods, it sounds right, it sounds within his character to do.

Laswell opens the door, and moves to everyone else, a knock on the door, and Soap walks inside. They all waited for her to say her piece, "The machine you discovered pulls on quantum mechanics."

Price furrowed his brought and let out a sigh, "What does that mean?"

"She's from another dimension."

"That is Bullshit."

"Kyle," Laswell said calmly, "I've seen it, her dimension is a mess, there was a World War Three."

"How bad was it?" Ghost asks breaking the silence of Laswell's words.

"A nuke was dropped, and the United States was invaded by Russia." A cold silence settles down in their muscles and bones.

"I'm going to ask her about it if it lines up with what we discover she is from another dimension." Laswell cleared her throat and walked out of the room and into the interrogation room.

"Hello, miss—"

"Cilia." The woman replies with a smile.

"Will you tell us more about the war?" Laswell asks, Cilia's face pales and she looks very uncomfortable.

"It... It started with a massacre in a Russian airport by Americans, but, later on, was connected to an ultranationalist called Vladimir Makarov." Cilia said. Laswell froze and her eyes darted over to the one-way mirror before nodding. "But before that in the Middle East over 30,000 marines were killed in 2011."Laswell's mouth drops open.

"What happened?"

"A nuke was dropped on them, by who I don't know."

"But after the Airport incident, Russia invaded the east coast of America and took over D.C." Cilia falls silent and she looks rather sad.

"What about your husband?" Tears roll down Cilia's face she pushes her tears back.

"He died about a month ago on the Russian-Georgian border," She gasps out.

"Simon," Price turns to Ghost who stands inches away from the glass window arms folded body tense. He hadn't moved an inch like a statue he stood still and riding, breath shallow and conservative.

It was so similar to his story, but all the core facts were wrong. Her brown hair and earthen eyes are the opposite of her normal appearance. She should have green eyes.

"Cecilia," he whispers before turning to Price.

"Does your late wife look like her?" Price asks, he knew a little more of this mysterious man than any other task force member.

Ghost nods.

"That is the face of my wife."

--------------------------

"Will you talk to her?" Soap asks, looking at Ghost who was cleaning his gun.

"There is no need for me to talk to her." Ghost mumbles not looking up from his duty, he wanted nothing to do with that woman, for she brought out a dead man and years of pain and joy.

"What about her needs?" Gaz asks. Ghost's lips form a thin line of distaste.

"That wouldn't be a good idea."

"Why not?"

"She needs to go back to her dimension giving her any sort of hope is cruel." Ghost said trying to convince the rest, but it was clear he was trying to convince himself.

"It's not cruelled to know someone," Soap mumbles.

Ghost gets up and walks away leaving the two. He needed to think far away from them and far away from her. He walks to the training ground to do some reps anything to keep her out of his mind, his beautiful wife.

"... Are you Ghost," Ghost froze and slowly turned around to see Cilia standing there, at the maw of the training room.

Ghost didn't answer.

She walked forward, and every step made Ghost's heartbeat beat even faster. She was inches away did his breath turned ragged, he felt like a cornered animal.

"... It can't be," she covered her mouth tears brimming in her eyes, "Simon?"

Ghost couldn't say anything. What does he say? What does he do?

"It's so nice to meet you," She smiled even though their tears in her eyes. "My name is Cilia; we were married at another time."

"I know," Ghost said softly, lowering his gaze at her.

"You remind me of my wife," Her smile stiffens, lips slightly downturn before she smiles again.

What was that?

"What was her name?"

"Cecilia." Her eyes darken.

"So similar to me..." She said awkwardly, Ghost could only nod... he wanted so badly to take off his mask and let Simon see her. Ghost reaches out and touches her face.

How similar, it was so cruel.

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Ghost sat in his barrack room and reached inside his bag, wrapped in the silken scarf of his late wife. He unfurls it and inside a beautiful necklace of cold milky pearls dangles from his hands.

He bought it on the first anniversary of their marriage. He brought it up to his lips and kissed it gently.

Cilia had beautiful pearl earrings, like pink roses did they dangle from her ears, it must be from his counterpart. Pearls did look wonderful on her, for that small conversation he nearly deluded himself into thinking that was Cecilia.

He closed his eyes the pearl necklace in his hands, and that night he dreamt of Cecilia and the flower fields of their youth, buttercups all around her.

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2.3K words

[allyaloe]

Messages for the Signs

Capricorn: Yellow, 333, you need to take a step back and assess what’s not working. You may also work with the phases of the Moon. “Take your dog for a walk, get out of the house” for somebody.

Aquarius: You need a break. You could in no contact or separation with someone significant, Aries and Scorpio placements. Someone could be into painting or digital art, 111/212. Taurus risings may be significant, too.

Pisces: The colours green or teal could be relevant to you. You may have been handed a necklace or family heirloom. Working with Archangel Chamuel could help your manifesting abilities, and lighting a red candle, 222. Long-awaited text message on the way from a Scorpio sun, moon, or rising.

Aries: Never let other people get to you. For the more spiritually inclined, you may be wondering what your mission or purpose is. You could have a Pisces, Libra moon or Capricorn placements. 333/777 are your relevant angel numbers. “I’m sorry I hurt you” is a message from someone; it is up to you whether you accept or not.

Taurus: Life may have been messy for you lately. Some of you could have distinctive Jupiter placements that you may want to tap into. Some of you could be into the darker aspects of spirituality or take a more Left Hand Path approach. There’s an emphasis on the birth chart and placements being on the axis; “Mercury and Neptune;” life path number 11 and 222. “It’s okay to feel.”

Gemini: Enough busybodying, Gemini! Some people may have been flitting around like a butterfly, without a plan to put into action. You need to go back to the drawing board, and take a pause to rest and recharge. Pisces risings could be significant as well. Take some time to think through what you want. 222, 444.

Cancer: New work opportunities may be abounding for you right now, particularly those with Scorpio or Sag placements, 555. Someone may have got a significant sentimental tattoo connected to their sister. Someone may be connected to family in the astral plane and they are looking down on you. You may have had prophetic dreams, or have Zeus as a deity.

Leo: You need to heal from that broken heart of yours and become responsible for your own happiness, 222. You may be perusing someone’s Instagram and you need to stop doing that before you hurt yourself further. I saw a visual of a pentagram symbol surrounded by black candles and crystals. Work on your self-love and the rest will follow.

Virgo: Someone may work with Aphrodite or have a connection with the Birth of Venus. This is about reclaiming your personal power. “Life is good.” You could feel a twin flame or soulmate connection with someone named Marcus or Mark. 333. Exchanging texts with a new handsome friend, could be this person. Gemini Venus placements.

Libra: “Free as a bird.” Connection to the name Ezekiel. This is SENSITIVE, so fair warning, but this could be related to fleeing abuse of some kind. One of you could have a young son. I genuinely feel for the person this concerns, you will be okay! Taurus rising. The name Dominic may be significant for someone here, too. 111.

Scorpio: Camomile tea could be a good soother for your nerves. The Barbie movie could be your way of getting in touch with your inner child, and healing wounds. You may have a connection with dolphins or the underwater world, 777. Artemis could be a being/deity to look into. Someone could have blonde hair, green or brown eyes. Don’t use temporary connections as a substitute for real love. Value, respect and care for yourself.

Sagittarius: The name Ethan could be significant. This is quite happy, actually. I see someone getting a new crush, and imagery of ducklings. It makes me feel the energy of birth and Spring time, so you could be going through a transformation or rebirth. Seeing 333/111, “watch out for yourself,” don’t be taken advantage of. The colour red and Taurus and Libra placements may also resonate with you.

If you feel called to book a PERSONAL reading, you can do so here! I hope these general messages provided some clarity to some of you.