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#appropriate answer would be that the goddess pales in comparison. i first heard her voice at the auditions for our middle school musical in
k1rishiki · 1 year
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something abt realizing you're listening to someone sing for the last time really hits in an awful way
#so there's this girl who's a year above me and to say that she's good at singing is an understatement. if the goddess of song#herself were to appear in front of me or anyone who's ever heard a note come from her mouth and asked which one was more talented the only#appropriate answer would be that the goddess pales in comparison. i first heard her voice at the auditions for our middle school musical in#the sixth grade and i've been in shock and awe ever since. it's in the name of her voice that i decided i wanted to learn how to write musi#bc i cannot sing but wanted nothing more than some sort of reason to stand next to her. and by some twist of fate. i took music theory last#semester and guess who ended up sitting directly next to me. and who i also said no more than maybe 5-10 words to the entire time. . whoops#in my (and her) defense. it's not like she's unapproachable or anything. she's one of the genuinely kindest people i've ever encountered bu#the problem is. it's a music theory class. i was the only one in it not affiliated w the music department. and everyone in it had known eac#other for 4-7 years. even my like. actual friend in the class was ignoring me a lil (he wasn't he was just hanging out w his closer friends#and so i kept to myself the entire semester bc i didn't want to feel like i was intruding on anything + am terminally shy#(like. to the point where i get physically ill bc of it)#flash forward to today in ap world w our song parody project. our teacher was showing past examples from previous classes and guess who too#the class last year. and ofc. you Do Not get [name redacted] working on a project w/out having her sing for you#her group made a stalin-themed mr sandman parody and our teacher paused the video halfway through and it was my own personal 9/11#bc there's no good reason for our paths to ever cross again. unless she becomes some celebrity. which i have no doubt she could if merit wa#the only factor at play there. i will never hear her voice again and i'm not sure what i'm going to do abt that.#romeo.txt
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voidstilesplease · 3 years
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love and war
a demigod au [companion] ficlet
~•~
Theo's eyes snap open when he hears the loud honk from outside the motel they're staying. He sits upright in his makeshift bed on the cold floor. It's still dark, and when he checks the clock in the room, only an hour has passed since they went to bed.
He transfers his gaze at the sleeping lump on the single bed, wrapped tightly in the comforter like a human burrito. Stiles is dead to the world, open-mouth with a bit of drool on one side. He looks so young and innocent and can't hurt a fly like this. But under his pillow, Theo can see the handhold of his dagger. They're almost to the entrance of the Underworld now. More monsters are after them. Caution and vigilance are of utmost importance if they want to come back from this quest alive.
Soft snoring takes his attention from Stiles to the shape on the couch. Involuntarily, Theo scowls at the sight of him. Derek Hale, son of Poseidon. He still can't believe he's on a quest with him, or even that all three of them are together in some mad twist of fate and managed not to kill one another yet. Barely, but still. Their godly parents are the worst rivals and are the three Olympians on the verge of a war if Theo, Stiles, and Derek fail. The last thing they should become is allies.
Derek shifts and Theo notes that he looks uncomfortable in his position. It makes him oddly satisfied.
He hears the loud honk again, but it's apparent now that only he does among them. Otherwise, his two companions would have sprung up, wide-eyed and ready to pounce, no matter how exhausted they had been from a full day of running and fighting monsters.
Theo gets up to his feet, clutching the hilt of his sword, and approaches the window guardedly. With sure fingers, he pulls down the blinds enough to peek. The image that greets him gives him a moment's pause, lips parting in surprise. 
Outside, a spotless, white limousine casually parks on the deserted road. A muscular man in black jeans, combat boots, and a red muscle shirt underneath a black vest leans against it. There's a familiar sneer in his mouth noticeable even from afar, and though he's donning sunglasses, Theo knows his eyes are on him. 
He's imagined this happening since his claim at Camp Half-Blood. If he appears to him right now while Theo's in the middle of a make-or-break mission, things must be getting worse in Olympus. He usually communicates to Theo in vague dreams, in a voice in his head, in some other weird manifestation since this started, but never coming to him in the flesh.
He lets go of the blind, delays for a second of contemplative silence, and then opens the door to meet his father, the God of War, Ares.
~•~
He slows his steps as he nears the broad figure. Up close, Theo notices the fire reflecting from inside his glasses. He has heard from his siblings that their dad had fireballs in his sockets instead of eyeballs. And that any children of Ares are compelled by unexplainable force to meet those flares, cowering.
Theo stops and raises his chin to meet his father's gaze, and no matter how he tries and how tough he is, he still dips his head in submission to the god. He swallows, "Father,"
His reply was a terse and detached, "Son,"
Theo lifts his head again, not quite meeting Ares's eyes this time, and hesitates for a second, but asks, "What are you doing here, father?"
The god's face twists like he has swallowed a lemon. His head fastens in the direction of the room Theo is renting for the night. "You have such unpromising companions," he spats, glaring at the window as if he sees through it. Ares probably does. "The son of Poseidon I can scarcely forgive," his attention slips back to Theo, and even without the proper organs, Theo can feel the disgust that would be reflected in them if he had eyeballs. The disapproval is rolling like waves in his aura, and it makes dread crawl up Theo's spine. He hates that his father can evoke such emotions just with his presence. He's also starting to feel his blood boil. "but Athena's spawn?"
Theo bites his lip and balls his fists to avoid saying something that will make his father smite him to smithereens. That is not at all the way he had imagined his first meeting with his father to end.
"She dares call me a thief," Ares's voice does not rise, but it doesn't have to. Theo's hyper-aware of his father's rage, and it makes his knees quiver to kneel and supplicate. 
Theo forces to say the words, "Stiles is helping to find an end to this conflict,"
Ares scoffs, unimpressed. "And by an end," he crosses his burly arms. "You mean victory against our enemies in the war."
Theo shakes his head, breathing through his nose. "I was thinking about not starting a war at all."
The look Ares gives him makes his stomach coil, and he hates it. The god regards him similarly to an insect: small, insignificant, and revolting. "No child of War runs from war."
Theo breathes in deep, his blunt and dirty nails digging in the skin of his palms. "There isn't one yet, that is necessary."
Ares's face thunders and the fire in his eyes glow brighter. It seems the god expresses no aversion to smiting his son right then and there. "She slandered my name-"
"Ares, dear, do be nice now." A silky, feminine voice interrupts his father from inside the limo. And amazingly, the god's anger deflates, albeit grudgingly. He's still enraged, but he's holding himself back from committing a crime. Theo inwardly sighs in relief.
The god purses his lips, nose flaring slightly, "My Lady wishes to give you a weapon,"
Theo draws his eyebrows together, "Your Lady?" Just as he says the question, the answer comes to Theo. He remembers the afternoon Stiles discussed with him in their session about his father's amorous relationship with a fellow Olympian.
"Aphrodite is the goddess of love and beauty and is married to Hera's son, Hephaestus, the god of the forge. The union forced upon Aphrodite as it was a condition made by Hephaestus so he would free his mother, Hera, from being bound into a magical throne he built and tricked the queen of the gods into sitting. Zeus granted it, and so they were married. Aphrodite resented his husband because Lord Hephaestus was, in the standard of the divinities, ugly and lame, and therefore, not befitting the goddess of beauty.
The god tried to gain her affection by designing beautiful jewelry for her in his workshop. But she wasn't interested. Instead, she used the opportunity of his husband's work arrest in his workshop to be unfaithful and be with other gods or goddesses, and even mortals.
Then she met Ares, and they fell in love. They kept on having affairs with other immortals and mortals, but they always came back to each other -even though that's against the rule of formal infidelity of the Greeks."
"Bring him in, dear,"
The soft voice breaks Theo's reverie, and with a huff, his father motions him to the door as requested by the goddess Aphrodite.
He doesn't know what to expect the goddess of beauty would look like, but when the door opens, Theo catches a glimpse of the car's occupant, and he thinks he hallucinated Stiles for a brief moment. When he blinks, he now sees the flowing hair and feminine features instead of gelled up hair and slender muscles.
He takes a seat, and the door shuts. Theo finds himself captivated by the different aura that she emanates in comparison to what he had felt with his father. His skin feels warm instead of burning, and his heart steadies instead of races. He stares at the face of the goddess, and if he isn't so gone, he would have remembered his manners -whatever little he has. At least, the goddess doesn't seem offended by the rapt attention -she's probably used to it- but amused.
Theo had never mentally built a picture of the goddess, but he didn't expect for her to have moles sprinkled in her pale face or have amber, almost molten liquid, eyes. But she has an elegant upturned nose and pink cupid's bow lips, which are as expected. Her features remind Theo so closely of Stiles. That must be why he thought he saw him for a second there.
When she smiles, it even feels familiar to Theo.
"What do you see?" She asks.
"Um," Theo swallows and licks his dried lips. "Your beauty, goddess."
She emits a soft, coy chuckle. "It is not universal. Do I resemble someone specific that you know?"
The question throws him for a little, and he blinks. "Yes," He says honestly, figuring there is no point in lying.
The smile on her face broadens, "My beauty is an individual's perception of it, son of Ares. It is one or the other, depending on who's looking."
He frowns, confused. Before he can ask what the goddess is trying to say or process it himself, Aphrodite procures an object in her hands that she passes to Theo. When he looks down at the item, it's a palm-sized rose looking-glass. He sees his reflection as he studies it. It's a simple circular mirror with roses encrusted around it; each petal is elaborately carved.
"It is a present from my husband," the goddess says.
Theo nods, thinking it makes perfect sense. Something as well-crafted as the item he holds must only be from a god. 
"When you absolutely need it," she continues, "look upon the mirror, and help will come. It grants only one call."
He gives the goddess a quizzical look, "Why are you giving it to me, though, Lady Aphrodite? I am grateful and honored to receive such a gift," he hastily adds, remembering Stiles's warning of always showing gratitude to the gods. It avoids spontaneously combusting. "But I don't know why me?"
Thankfully, she seems to be in good spirits because she only inclines her head. "Do you think it appropriate if I gifted that to the children of my beloved's rivals?"
Theo made a humming noise.
"I must say," she adds, "I assumed if it was the son of Poseidon I invited, I know what image he would see in my face. But, I wonder," she gives Theo a look, her brown eyes twinkling in the same fashion as Stiles's when he formulates a clever, and devious idea. "If it was the son of Athena, whose face would he have seen between two?"
Theo pauses, caught off guard.
Then, the goddess straightens. "Remember. Only once. Choose the moment wisely."
Theo opens his mouth to thank her once more and asks what is in exchange for the goddess' generosity. Stiles had also taught him that gods don't just hand out presents to the mortals they favor without a deed or a sacrifice. But, the next time he breathes, he's back inside the room, sitting in his comforter on the floor.
He blinks rapidly and scrambles to his feet toward the window. He pulls the blinds aside and sees nothing but a deserted road outside where the limo has been.
He almost thinks he dreamt it, but when he looks at his hand, Aphrodite's mirror is in there.
"Remember. Only once. Choose the moment wisely."
~•~
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