ʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ

ʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ

[cyprisoflove-blog]

battlclust:

To be blunt, Ares didn’t give a shit what Aphrodite looked like, and he was somewhat shocked that she had any sort of alternative experience. It was so easy to be judgmental, Ares thought to himself, but why bother? He listened to Aphrodite’s description with his eyebrows furrowed. And in one sentence, the god went through an array of emotions.

Anger and possessiveness at the reminder that Aphrodite was married to Hephaestus. Relief and smugness that they were no longer married. Strange, to feel so damned possessive even after all of this time.

“Different? Like… violent? Abhorrent? Judgmental? That would be pathetic of me, and an utter weakness, and that is something that isn’t me.” Ares meandered into the kitchen to retriever his glass and he took a sip before offering it to Aphrodite. “I’m glad you feel more like yourself. And no, you’re right. I don’t care. I would be a terrible Greek if I cared.”

Certainly, Ares would always feel a slight pang of desire for the form of his old lover, but the spirit of the goddess of love was still alive and well. Must be, for Ares to feel such a draw anyway.

“I was on my way to work. I can call in sick, or you’re welcome to come. I’ve got a fight afterwards. Love to have you there.” But then, a slight pause. A curious tilt of the head, as though he were a puppy and not a god. “You still go by Aphrodite?”

A bubbling, genuine laugh fell from Cypris’s lips. It was hard, honestly, not to be comfortable here, even if he didn’t quite want to, even if he wanted to come back to Ares with a fresh breath and an unbiased set of eyes. But he was drawn back again, just as he always had been, and he found a venomous little beast inside him that wondered if he would still be so drawn to Adonis as well. 

One leg crossing over the other, he leaned forward, gladly watching the other. He really hadn’t changed much, and perhaps that was what frustrated him. “I suppose you would be.”

Then, speaking up, he offered a smile. “What’s work for you now? I’d love to watch you kick ass again, if that’s what you’re doing.” He shook his head gently. “It’s Cypris now. Less suspicious, but it’s the name that I got from the people of Cyprus and Cythera. I think it’s kinda mysterious.”

[cyprisoflove-blog]

battlclust:

Ares couldn’t help the smile that eased over his lips. There was something almost self-conscious about the way Aphrodite was moving. Aphrodite tugged his sleeves down, dragged fingers through his hair, and even his breath was soft. Ares was amused, and yet slightly disconcerted.

He shut the door after his former lover and slipped his hands to his waist, vain and showing off the fact that he had no lasting physical discrepancies.

“What news?” Ares pressed, eyebrows knitting. “The news that you’ve got a new body? I kind of like it. Feels like there’s a new pretty thing in my arms.” Leave it to Ares to make a sweet situation crude. “You seem a little worn out by it. Nervous, maybe? Can’t put my finger on it, but you should cope. You’re hot, Dite. Always have been, always will be.”

Gods, damn him. And damn Cypris himself, for falling so easily for men with pretty shapes and the people who loved themselves most. Ares was exemplary of such a choice he had made.

Yet, he found himself smiling, head tilted as he listened. He was good at making the situation different, not like he was a new person, not like he wasn’t Aphrodite anymore, or like the goddess of love had changed. There were times that it was helpful that someone just didn’t care. 

“I’m worn out by trying to catch up with all of the Olympians just to let them know, hey, by the way, Hephaestus’s wife is a man and also they’re not married anymore and blah blah gossip,” Cypris laughed, unfazed by even the crude things that fell from the other’s lips. “But, no, I...I suppose I was nervous, seeing you. I expected something...different. But I love it, like this, I’ve never felt so free, like this was how it was always meant to be.”

“I’d apologize that you secretly slept with a man for a while, but something tells me you don’t care.”

[cyprisoflove-blog]

battlclust:

Ares was never one to mince words or actions. He preferred resplendence to humility, and now that he finally had a place worthy of his tastes, Ares had finally unpacked. He was fresh off of a fight the previous night, as the bruises on his body and their spidery roots showed, and he felt alive. He loved the feeling of the ache as he showered, preparing for his shift running security for the strip club. He rubbed into the pain even more, reminding himself that he was alive, if not a glutton for the violence.

Towel wrapped around his waist, he whistled as he slipped into the kitchen and poured himself a drink – he could thank Dionysus for that later, and would – and sipped the amber bourbon as his fingers worried his hair.

Which was when he heard the knock on the door.

Ares hadn’t bothered installing a doorbell. There were very few modern conveniences he actually liked, at the sound of a doorbell was one of the many things he despised. He didn’t bother clothing himself before he made his way to the door and pried it open.

There was something close to familiarity. Something just slightly on about the individual behind the door. Ares tipped his head in near confusion, eyebrows knitting slightly. And then it hit him. Suddenly, out of the blue. “Holy… well, I’ll be damned.” A bark of a laugh escaped his lips before he stepped forward to take Aphrodite in his arms. “Figured they’d have killed you by now. Glad they didn’t. Come on, come on…” He stepped away from the other man and held his arm out in beckoning. “In, before I flash the neighbors.”

That was fast. Very fast, in fact, and for a moment, Cypris wanted to dig his nails in the doorway, ask for a redo of the situation in the hopes that he could understand what had happened. But that was acceptance, whether genuine or not, and he allowed himself to be pulled in, fingers running through his dark curls.

“Evening to you too, Ares,” he breathed, adjusting the lengths of his sleeves. What a lavish home, he thought idly, glimpsing around the space. It was almost embarrassing to think of his own apartment in comparison, however homey it was, barely finished being painted and scarcely the size of one room here.

“I’m surprised I’m alive as well,” he tried then, laughing awkwardly. “I came to, ah, give you the news...but it seems you’ve taken it in stride.”

[cyprisoflove-blog]

@battlclust

Perhaps it was wrong of him, after all this time, to hunt Ares down. Perhaps it was wrong to not have called Heph first, even for a little bit of a talk down from what almost felt like a suicidal action, but what was he if not impulsive?

Sweater drooping off himself in the pseudo-light of the Vegas nights, he favoured the breeze with his cheek, brow furrowing as he stared down the door of the grandiose house before him. He supposed Ares had never been one for humility, but it was nothing he wasn’t used to.

Swallowing down his pride, then, he bit down on his bottom lip, knuckles rapping the door and wet palms clenching tightly with his nerves.

[mxther-dearest-blog]

No family is perfect. We fight, we argue, we even stop talking to each other at times, but in the end? family is family, the love will always be there.

[in order]

Hera, Hephaestus, Apollo, Arden, Cypris, Heath, David

[cyprisoflove-blog]

no i ain't got cash but i got you baby

[detectivextim]

Heath was normally out a nights in clubs, taking some random guy home to have fun with some guy.  And this night was no different, he was smiling brightly, grinning up on people he didn’t even know, but he didn’t have a care in the world.  His shirt was now tucked in his waist band and sweat was dripping down his body. 

Heath started to roam around the club, smiling, and randomly dancing until he was next to someone. Heath hadn’t really seen the other around the club, so that’s what peaked his interest. Heath slowly grabbed the Other’s hands preparing for a dance. He was smiling mischievously, while he continued to move his body to the beat.

“And what brings you out tonight?”

[cyprisoflove-blog]

A bubble of delight filled his chest as his offer was accepted, and Cypris gladly followed the other’s steps, swaying and running one hand briefly through his own wild curls. It wasn’t uncommon to find handsome others in the clubs around here -- Vegas was full of pretty faces. Perhaps it was his own ecstatic air, the sheer fact that Aphrodite himself exuded happiness into this particular club tonight, but everyone seemed so attractive tonight, and especially those that spoke to him.

“Just havin’ a good time, baby,” Cypris laughed, his own playfulness coming out like liquid gold on his tongue. “How ‘bout you?”

[kahuna-kalalu-blog]

Letting himself be pulled, pearly flats catching on the other mans shoes as he went, Kal fought against himself for the need to grin. The other man was beautiful, with flippant curls and a bright smile, and such a stretch was contagious. 

Swaying his hips slowly, like he often did when he was alone in his kitchen, Kal puffed at his own hair. 

“Like this?”

[cyprisoflove-blog]

Awkward, though honest, was the motion, so much so that it drew a bubbling laugh to Cypris’s lips. “Yea!” Pulling the other’s arms up along with his own, Cypris guided them to sway along with the gyration of his hips, controlled and delighted.

“Now, just...do what feels right!” Letting him go, then, Cypris found himself lost in his own motion, swinging hips and thighs, arms grasping for the sky like the others around him, then drooping to grasp at his curls. “No one’ll judge, c’mon!”

[kahuna-kalalu-blog]

Bodies bumped into him, exuberant with their alcoholic joy and more than content enough to nearly send him sprawling. This was far from his usual scene, different from the quiet bars that he usually frequented, and Kalalu felt out of his depth within the writhing bodies and pulsing music. 

Fingers pulling at his frilled, golden skirt, he paused in his struggle toward the bar, staring with large, dark eyes at the man who spoke to him. 

“I’ve never danced before.” 

He sniffed, tilting his head as he spoke.

[cyprisoflove-blog]

Laughing gently at the other’s response, Cypris reached out, grasping for his hands. He looked cute, certainly, but more as if he had dressed just for show, while Cypris knew to wear something he could dance in.

“Liar,” he joked, pulling the other’s hands up. “I bet you’ve danced before, you just don’t know it! All you’ve gotta do is sway your hips, c’mon!”

[cyprisoflove-blog]

Cypris knew, to a certain degree, how much of a hippie he appeared to be in that instant. Dancing wildly, the club lights dim enough he didn’t care about those around him, his arms reached for the sky, hips and body swaying to the music. Wild curls tinged with sweat danced around his forehead, and alcohol flowed through his system. 

He hadn’t felt so jubilant, not in his thousands of years of existence, but now was new -- now was one of the greatest, cleanest feelings of his life, now that all of his bonds had been repaired, his visits paid, there was something amazing in his chest, a feeling of self-love. His excitement was so high, so exuberant, that he scarcely noticed the stranger that had come up beside him, and with a bubbling laugh, he held out his arms to them.

“Hey! Wanna dance?”

[xxtechie-blog]

Easy Target

It was an easy mistake for people to make when it came to Lorcan. He seemed unassuming, quiet and harmless. With his benign nature, and slight form. His dark, flyaway hair was in loose curls, falling forward in a mop-headed mess over thin, black framed glasses as he sat at the edge of a small bar placed inside one of Vegas’s many casinos. Lorcan was entirely invested in whatever he’d been doing on the small laptop he was typing away at, right up until he was suddenly jostled forward harshly by someone shoving into him hard from behind. “H- ..Hey!” He exclaimed sharply, just barely managing to lift his laptop before a couple of drinks along the bar spilled over, not quite managing to stop the bottom of it from getting sticky.

“Be caref-” The boy was sputtering, dragging bunches of napkins along the bar in front of him in a rushed attempt to pat the surface dry. Before he could finish, however, whoever had knocked into him gave him another rough shove. “Watch your shit.” The drunken man slurred, before wandering off past him without so much as an apology or even an acknowledgement.

Gritting his jaw, the boy turned to look at the offender, his lips pursed and his eyes seeming a bit brighter blue than was normal. His gaze searched the man’s exterior for a moment as, unnoticed by the man, his phone seemed to light up momentarily in his pocket. The slot and blackjack machines in his immediate area seeming to glitch out and flash brightly, before the boy simply turned back on his seat. Setting his laptop down on the drying and slightly sticky surface, Lorcan opened it. Whatever he’d been working on previously was gone. Now, a window had popped up that looked suspiciously like a personal bank account that was most certainly not his. At once, he began typing, so deeply involved in what he was doing that he was unaware another pair of eyes were upon him.

[cyprisoflove-blog]

Any other day, he would have interrupted the scene before him, let out a bit of his own influence to calm the loveless jerk that decided to make a mess of a stranger’s day. But a god of love often had many worries and fears surrounding his loves, and alcohol, sweet alcohol with the taste of candy, was often the easiest way to relax those fears.

Amber eyes wide as he watched the scene happen, he tugged at his cardigan, so grateful that it still fit after his body had changed beyond his control. Women’s clothes were often more comfortable than men’s, if only for the familiarity of them. 

Drink in hand, he slid over to the boy, a wad of napkins in his grasp to help clean up any residual spills. He glimpsed at the bank account, not bothering to mention it. “Dude was an asshole, huh?”

[elvin-king]

“Look, ma’am,” Venom painted his tone, turning his tongue barbed and sharp, and there was a near-hiss to his breath. His skin burned, he had been outside and without water for far too long, and he ached to submerge his fingertips in something hot and sticky, whether it be water or blood, he didn’t care in that instant. “I’m just lookin’ for a God damned sweater, in pink. Any fucking shade of pink.”

“I’m telling you, sir,” The sales rep began once more, and Vinny felt his already thin patience begin to splinter where it sat on the base of his spine. “We don’t sell any mens sweaters in pink.”

“I don’t want a mens sweater!”

[cyprisoflove-blog]

Walking past, Cypris couldn’t help but hear the mess that occurred near the side of the store. He was just looking for a new cardigan, after his favourite had ripped, and with his lips furrowing nervously, he stepped up, listening curiously to the situation.

“If you’re looking for girl’s clothes, they’re on the other side of the store. Is that what you’re looking for?”

[mxther-dearest-blog]

“Oh.” She sank in her seat, grateful that he felt comfortable enough to come to her, and so she continued to watch him. He looked more at ease than she had ever seen him before, as if his skin fit for the first time, and she leaned forward, resting her chin on one of her fists. “Oh dearest, good, that’s very good. You’re happy now, right? You look very good, you make a very handsome young man.”

“I’m so happy you felt comfortable to come to me, I know we haven’t had much of a relationship, but I’ve always admired your spirit, my dear.”

[cyprisoflove-blog]

“Yes,” Cypris gasped, nodding. He felt so much like a child before her gaze, almighty as it was, though he had been an adult since his very inception. “Absolutely, I’m so happy, I can’t even express...I-I’ve been trying to track down everyone who was ever good to me, and...well, you were the easiest to start with...”

Then, with a bubbling laugh: “And I’m glad I did.”

[metalxsmithing]

It wasn’t like him not to take another’s words at face value. Innocent until proven guilty and all the good stuff. But since this was personal and not some random person trying to force their beliefs on him, or at the very least trying to convince him of the impossible, Hephaestus wanted nothing more than to show the man the front door and bid him a polite adieu - maybe point him in the direction of a psychiatric hospital while he was at it. And he would have done so if not for the way this stranger, this damn familiar stranger, pleaded for his ear … begged him to listen to a story that a normal individual would have written off as hullabaloo. But there was something about this man that caught his full, undivided attention. Perhaps it was the strange familiarity he exhibited or his mannerisms or even the way he held himself - so comparable to Aphrodite that it was difficult not to stare. Whatever it was, he simply couldn’t find it in himself to turn him away … 

    … and he wanted to. 

            Gods did he ever. 

But then he already had so much on his plate as it were; what was one more thing to add to the mess that was his life?

“Okay. Okay,” Hephaestus intervened, holding his hands up in a placating manner - because he could see the tears welling in the man’s eyes, all but threatening to spill over. “I believe you. How can I not?” His story was too fantastical not to believe. 

   And … well … he missed Aphrodite. He missed the camaraderie they’d shared once upon a time; before everything had gone to Hades in a handbasket. “So you go by Cypris now?” Now that he thought about it, Cypris was one of the many names bestowed upon her by the mortals. “Can’t have been easy …” He bit his lip, studying - truly studying - Aphrodite the man for the very first time that evening. “… Having to adjust to life as a man. Are …” Clearing of the throat. “Are you okay?” 

        Talk about an awkward situation.

[cyprisoflove-blog]

How he yearned then, in that very instant, to throw himself over the counter, to embrace his dearest friend for the first time in decades, to babble and cry about how much he had missed him and the world had changed right beneath his feet. But times were different now, and such displays of love were not as readily accepted. There was no part of him that was remotely sure Hephaestus hadn’t changed, too.

And instead, in the most retained way he could manage, Cypris stood motionless, a delighted smile on his face that dimpled just the same as it always had. Even a little bit of belief was all he needed, but oh, the familiar cry-baby tears glistened in his eyes, his lashes batting constantly as the only thing to keep them at bay.

“I-I’m wonderful,” he gushed, trying his damnedest not to babble. “I’ve never felt better. This is me, now, this is who I always was. I just...never knew it, until they explained it. I...gods, Heph, I’ve missed you so damned much.”

[julietlinwood-deactivated201610]

Nimue wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Tap water is the worst. It tastes like metal and chemicals, even more than this bottled swill. How is it that something so unnatural prevents sickness, when it reeks of sickness itself? Humans have taken foolishness to another level, truly.” It wasn’t that she hated humans - far from it, in fact - but the sheer difference between the life she had known before settling into her long sleep, and the way of the world now, was jarring. She’d been awake for a decade, and there were still so many things she couldn’t accustom herself to, no matter how she tried.

[cyprisoflove-blog]

Nodding sagely as the other spoke, Cypris felt something settle in his heart, one of the million incarnations of love he could feel, the sort of love that came only from finding someone like-minded over event trivial things.

“Exactly. They label it as ‘natural spring water’ but spring water tastes clean, of the earth, not like...chlorine and bleach. That’s why I stick to coffee -- you cna’t taste all the chemicals nearly as much.”

[mxther-dearest-blog]

Miss Hera.

It had been a while since she had been referred by anything other than Queenie, and to hear something different, something so respectful, gave her pause. Aphrodite though, not only did she know that name, but she knew it well, from stories and experience, and it drew a sigh from her lips.

“Oh, darling, what’s happened to you?”

Motioning to the seat across from her desk, Hera offered him a fainter smile, softer than the first had been, more sympathetic around the edges. 

[cyprisoflove-blog]

She recognized him. 

The relief was immediate, his tense shoulders sagging gratefully. “Good things, Miss Hera. They looked into how I was born. They fiddled with my DNA and...and...Miss Hera, I feel right. It’s a new change, but I just...”

[mxther-dearest-blog]

An unfamiliar face, someone that she didn’t recognize, and neither that voice nor those curls belonged to her Kama. Still, she smiled, set down her coffee cup and offered the warmth of her being to the newcomer. 

“Hello dear! I’m afraid I don’t know your name. Is there anything I can help you with?”

[cyprisoflove-blog]

“M-Miss Hera, I...” Swallowing hard, he tipped his head up as bravely as he could. He had never been quite as close with Hera, never really got to know her, but these were dire times for deities, and it was as good a time as any to get to know her.

“You do know my name,” he managed slowly, sliding the door shut behind himself and walking like a shamed bride to stand in front of her desk. “My name is Cypris. Aphrodite to most.”