sans logique - Apollo x Oc

002

GODS, IS HE DESPERATE
⏝⏝ ❁ཻུ۪۪⸙͎ ❁ཻུ۪۪⸙͎❛⏝⏝

Gossip of Profikós and Apollo's breakup circulated Olympus. Though many had seen it coming with past drama, it was still a shock for it to finally happen. Profikós had always been the forgiving type when it came to Apollo. Anyone caught gossiping received hard glares and threats from Profikós. But despite Profikós' hard exterior, deep down it hurt. To be gawked at and talked about, ridiculed for staying with Apollo for as long as she did. So she kept herself hidden, hiding away in her home on Mount Olympus with barely any communication with others.

But eventually, she was payed a visit by The Fates. "What do you want." She frowned, scratching at her birds nest of black hair. Lachesis glanced to her sisters, before turning her attention back to Profikós. "You have neglected your duties." She said. Then Clothos spoke, her voice rough like sand paper, "We have come to see why that is." Her eyes were hard, like Profikós had offended her. Which, in a sense, she had.

The Fates had warned her about getting involved with a god like Apollo, how it wasn't apart of her fate. But she defied them, charmed by a man who would do her no good. Atropos scoffed. "We know why she's like this, so pathetic over a man. Apollo nonetheless." Profikós glared but said nothing. "We warned you, moiraíos. Now you must accept your mistakes and do better." Said Clothos, her expression still stern and hard. Her wrinkled skin matched those of her sisters, their frowns making the sag of skin even more prominent.

Profikós casted her gaze downwards. She knew she couldn't pout forever, she was a god with duties. And that wouldn't change because of a man like Apollo.

╭─ ⌲  YEAR 2005

The oath had been broken, and Profikós couldn't help the laugh that passed her lips once she learned the news. Over seventy years ago, a prophecy– dubbed The Great Prophecy– was spoken. 'A half-blood of the eldest gods shall reach sixteen against all odds. And see the world in endless sleep. The hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap. A single choice shall end his days. Olympus to preserve or raze'. Despite the seriousness, Profikós knew none of the gods would keep their oath. She expected much.

So now, 2005, as Zeus's bolt is stolen and Poseidon's son is claimed— Profikós wonders what The Fates had in store for the poor boy known as Percy Jackson.

With a huffed sigh, Profikós wills herself from her throne and brushes a strand of black hair away from her indigo eyes. She had been watching Percy after he was claimed, the boy intriguing her to no end. She saw the strings tide to him, glancing over each one and their stories with interest. He truly looked like his father, too. From Poseidon's eyes to his flat black hair. Though, she felt her interest was somewhere else— but she just couldn't decide on why she was so interested in Percy. So with a frown she sauntered through her misty room, passing through the dark blue drapes and out the door.

She wore a modernized two piece chiton dress the color of a blue lotus flower. Her stomach was exposed, showing of the gold waist beads that wrapped around her waist. She was graced in fine gold jewelry, a gold headpiece placed on her forehead. She was the embodiment of elegance, a type of confidence in her walk as she strided down the bustling strees of Mount Olympus. Despite the arguments between Zeus and Poseidon, the streets still stood tall. But Profikós knew that wouldn't last long.

Residents waved at her in greeting, Profikós waving back with a smile. It had been decades since her and Apollo's breakup, and though that had been the hot topic for a while it eventually blowed over. But Profikós felt she hadn't truly moved on, avoiding the son god whenever she could. And that didn't change even as he came running towards her, a bright look in his eyes and flowers in his hands. "My love, for you." He bowed, glancing up at the goddess as he held out the bouquet of amaranthus flowers.

Never fading feelings. Profikós scoffed. "I do not have time for this, Apollo." She dismissed, strutting away from the man without a second glance. Apollo followed after her, not missing a step as he walked alongside her. "How many times can I say I'm sorry! I'm sure Calix misses me as well, why must you keep me from my son." Profikós hesitated. Calix had missed Apollo, which is why she kept him busy with quest and errands— forbidding the younger immortal to visit his father.

"Calix is perfect happy as is, mind you. He hasn't uttered your name in over a century!" She smirked, despite the lie in her words. Which of course, Apollo noticed. He was the god of truth after all. "Profikós, don't lie to me." He frowned. It looked out of place on his soft yet hard features, gold eyes bearing into Profikós'. "Whatever." She grumbled. "He is on a quest at the moment. Why not flirt with another mortal to pass the time, hm?" Apollo groaned.

"Are you still upset over that?" He questioned. Anger settled on Profikós' expression, and Apollo gulped— already regretting his words. "I am the Goddess of Loyalty, Apollo! I would expect you to have some." She frowned before storming off.

906 words, unedited