Chapter Eight ~ Bad-Touched by the Pink Lady
Note: Sorry that I have been away for some time, and I make no promises as to when the next update to this story will come. I have been hit hard by life in multiple directions. College, two relatives being diagnosed with cancer, my dog (bless her old soul) becoming more feeble as time has worn her down. On top it all the lack of personal motivation. Not just for writing, but for any of the small things that have long brought me joy. But enough about me, below I have listed a few things to look out form.
Update News: I have been mulling over a few ideas recently. Regardless of which, there will likely be some eventual updates and tweaks to the earlier chapters. Small stuff mind you, things I have the time for. In fact the only thing major I have even considered, this being an important word since nothing is set in stone, is perhaps changing Katsuki, to a fiery Katsumi. If you catch my drift. But I haven't made up my mind on that. This story has literally zero plan. I'm just going with the flow here.
Izuku collapsed onto the hard patch of dirt that made up most of their clearing with a heavy thud, splayed out wide as his muscles screamed for a moment's rest. Sporadic rays of light from the slowly setting sun crowded through the branches and leaves, seeming to have a life of their own in the way they fought to specifically target his face.
"Cut it out, Apollo." His protest was hardly audible, but the message seemed to have gotten across as the light dimmed somewhat.
Another heavy thud sounded out beside him, his entire body vibrating from the sheer weight of behind the other impact. A few feet over, with his own body facing the opposite direction, lay a sweat covered Ares. Who was currently sporting a swollen cheek and a nice, puffy black eye. Which, now proven, had not done anything to make the god any uglier.
"Eat shit, kid." Ares grumbled, clearly listening to his inner monologue, as always.
Not like he was wrong, though.
"Again," the god turned his head slightly so that they were face to face, "eat shit."
Then his divine bully did something unexpected. His arm reached out, bridging the gap between them, balling into a fist as it crossed the distance. Izuku would have flinched, expecting another blow, but was too tired to even consider dodging. However, when the fist came down the blow was rather soft, well, as light as it could be for a god of war. Rapping him on the shoulder a few times before falling limp into the soil.
"Good job, kid."
"D…did you just compliment me?" Well, it was official, Ares had finally killed him during a spar. It had only been a matter of time anyway. Heaven kinda sucked though, since Ares was here, even if it was a nice version of the deity.
"Don't get used to it, punk." The god frowned, and his voice might have been a bit harsh, but the whole affair was significantly more tame than normal.
Yeah, heaven sucked.
"As he should," another voice reached him from somewhere over by his numb legs. Or was that his arm? He couldn't quite tell anymore. "Few have managed to stand toe-to-toe with a war deity. More so if it was in his favor."
Izuku craned his neck, catching sight of the stunning warrior goddess standing at his feet—so that's where those were. Although she was notably bereft of her armor and shield, instead dressed in a simple white robe that clung to her rather tightly. Which, with the dying light of the sun at her back, outlined her curves quite nicely.
Statement rescinded, heaven was awesome.
Athena cleared her throat, refusing to meet his eye. Not that he could see her face very well through the shadow she cast down on him. Fortunately enough, he could at least see the hand she held out, offering to help him rise from his very uncomfortable patch of dirt. Which he accepted, even if those pebbles jutting into his back were a far cry better from the ache in his arms and legs.
"You want help, or are you good?" He eyed the fallen war god. Who in response lowered his helm to cover his eyes with one hand, and waved him off casually with the other.
"Don't need your help…just…just gonna rest for a few minutes."
Izuku's brow furrowed at that, if only a bit. Since when did ole' protein shakes and performance enhancers get tired for even like a second?
"Apollo's blessing, I would hazard a guess."
"Oh, the healing factor affects my stamina?" Athena smiled brightly at his question, clearly pleased that the last nine days of her training had stuck somewhat.
Which, to be fair, was something he felt deserved a bit of praise. Most people would likely have found themselves lost in the goddess's rapid fire explanation—and multi-slide power points—over all things magical and divine. Or the fifty-six-page beginner guide he was only a little over halfway through, but she did not need to know about that part. He had found it manageable, somewhat, and unbelievably interesting.
Plus, he got the feeling that if anyone could keep up with someone who babbled all their thoughts out at one time at mach speed, it was probably him.
Only recently had they begun to discuss the very building blocks of what it meant to be a god, what it was their presence represented. Gods, by their nature, were born for the sole purpose of guiding some aspect of reality. Some represented rough, tangible concepts like parts of nature, the elements, or natural phenomena. Others embodied concepts, ideas, actions, and even emotions or even the lack thereof. Such as representing war, hunting, or even misery and joy.
While they did not specifically embody these things, as there were apparently much older, much more powerful deities that did that, they ruled over these things and could influence them; in some cases even extend their reach to related ideas or mortals involved with them. This was what formed the very basis of their power, and by extension the power bestowed upon a champion.
In this case, him.
To some extent it had been unnecessarily complex, as with all things divine he was beginning to understand. By other means, it had been weirdly similar to writing a hero analysis. This time just as more of a history paper.
Though the sketch he made of himself felt a bit pompous, if only a little.
That said, it had given him a much greater understanding of the powers and abilities he would have to slowly "grow in to" as Hestia had put it. Some of which he was beginning to grasp. Getting a grappled on how to wield them, however? Yeah, not so much. Well, outside of kinda understanding how Apollo's blessing worked. But he was pretty sure he literally could not lie anymore as a result, so that kinda blows.
And had it not been limited to only the vocalization of his thoughts, he would probably be a jackalope or impaled by a spear by now.
As for his ever decreasing vocabulary and overreliance on cursing when he got annoyed, well he blamed Ares for that one.
"I haven't even blessed you, you little shit."
See! Absolutely Ares' fault.
He reached up with his right hand, grasping atop his left shoulder before rolling the join to work out some of the kinks that Apollo's blessing was quietly starting to heal. "Can't say I could do that again. But I still got plenty of stamina left."
"Ooooo," Ares cooed up at them, "hear that bird-brain? He says he's got plenty of stamina left for you. If you wanted to take this somewhere more pri-"
The god was silenced by a spear impaling itself between his legs. Izuku flinched at the proximity of its blade to the Spartan crown jewels, no doubt feeling only a fraction of the war god's own uncomfort. Who wisely chose to remain quiet from that point on.
Athena, glaring down at the god with gold-tinted cheeks, finally turned to him with a softened gaze. "We shall call our day completed. You need time to rest, and I am not fond of your attention span after a bout with Ares."
Well, it wasn't exactly his fault that fighting Ares, god of war and courage, left his adrenaline pumping for hours afterwards. Which, mind you, was not a normal amount of time for the human body to be hyped up on its own stimulants. Something he jotted down to his new god-mortal limbo status because otherwise he would have to see a doctor and all pretense of hiding all this from his mother was out the window.
Also, he was pretty sure he had ADHD now. Nothing severe, and it was only really an issue when he was stressed, but it was omnipresent enough for him to have noticed the shift.
"That's fair," if a blow to his pride as a model student. He went to collect his gear before stopping, a thought on the tip of his tongue. His fingers snapped as he was able to focus momentarily through the post-battle haze. "Your book on Titans! I finished it last night."
"Ah," Athena nodded, having either forgotten or not expected him to get through it so fast. It was quite the hefty tome, after all. "Did that help to answer some of your questions?"
Izuku shrugged, "Not any more than you already have."
"Suck up."
His godly companion shot her brother another glare, to which he joined in. Ares' insults usually passed him without issue, this one had as well, so biting back was just par for the course. A playful back-and-forth between a teenager and his alcoholic, semi-abusive uncle, who also did steroids—those muscles were not natural god or no. Sometimes, though, having advantage on the god by being capable of higher thought, Izuku liked to make things a bit interesting.
Payback, if you will.
"Well, at least I didn't stoop to drawing pencil-mustaches on Titans"
Ares sprang up ramrod straight in an instant, helmet, unbalanced from the inertia of the action, clambering to the ground behind him with a metallic thunk. Just as quickly, his arm rose, an accusing finger pointing at his…nephew? Cousin? Brother?
"Don't you dare." His eyes darted to the other god present for the briefest of moments, but otherwise refused to look anywhere but Izuku.
Athena, for her part, looked thoroughly confused, a rare moment for the goddess of wisdom. Though kinda cute in the way she was holding her chin between her forefinger and thumb."How could you possibly…pencil…. Ares."
"Take it back," the god's crimson eyes bore a hole through the teen. For should they tread anywhere else, they might find themselves met with the cold grey orbs currently burning a hole in the side of his head.
"Ares."
His outstretched finger shook violently, through anger or fear, Izuku was not quite sure as of yet. "I said, take. It. back."
"And why give Kronos a beard? He has a beard."
"Malakas-"
Izuku was sure there was going to be a significant plethora of profanities that were to follow the first. Fortunately for his growing vocabulary, he would not yet have to add any more Greek cursing. As before, so much as another syllable could be uttered, the goddess was upon him. Throwing haymakers into his face with abandon.
Ares zero, Izuku twelve.
Dusting his hands, he left the squabbling gods to go retrieve said book, and add a few more mustaches to match the ones he had already drawn. Right now, he had all the time in the world, or at least until Ares got fed up and melted into his usual gory mess of teleportation. Dude can turn into anything, and he chooses a pool of blood. Izanagi's was way cooler.
Ducking through the flaps of his tent with a tired smile, he rubbed at his eyes with one hand, clearing back some of the exhaustion. When his vision cleared, he was met with…well, not his tent at least. Not anyone's tent unless they carried a whole temple into the woods on every trip and liked the color pink way too much.
Sprawled out before him was a large Greek style temple, somewhat like many he had seen on his trips to Olympus. Its walls were left open, exposing the tops of clouds painted orange and pink by the light of the setting sun, crashing against the mountain below in a great tide of color. Great marble pillars, veined with a magenta stone that, somehow, seemed to be sprouting equally gaudy heart shaped leaves, stretched nearly a hundred feet above him.
The ceiling, dancing with the flutter of what looked to be little winged, blond babies—cupids he recalled—was painted with a great mosaic of carnal lust and desire. When his eyes slowly meandered their way back down, he nearly jumped from his skin. Shocked by the scantily clad love goddess standing before him.
"Oh my." Aphrodite purred.
Izuku took a deep breath, trying not to choke on the perfume hanging in the air, and closed his eyes. Exhaling deeply, making his annoyance known, he fixed his stalker with an even stare.
"I'm not sleeping with you, Aphrodite."
"Okay, first of all, ouch." a pink nailed finger found its way to the center of his vision, the second rose with a roll of her ever-changing eyes and her own huff, "Second of all, not why you're here, babe."
His head cocked slightly, his eyes became half-lidded and his lips pressed into a thin, unyielding line. Giving the goddess a thoroughly disbelieving look.
"Ughhh, fineeeee," she huffed, sounding a bit more like a whine, "strictly business then."
Grabbing him by the arm, she began to drag him down the long platform like stairs down toward the center of the temple. He did resist, but quickly found that the goddess was damn strong. Easily pulling his bulk through the pillars until they finally stopped on a large circular platform recessed into the floor.
To one side sat an enormous heart-shaped bed, which she surprisingly pulled him past, and to the other a simple barber's chair. Only with shimmering gold forming its base and various hinges. All topped with a plush pink cushioning that looked like some kind of suede material. Enough to tell him it was for her own personal use.
She pushed him into its seat with a single hand, and embarrassingly little effort.
"You're giving me a haircut?" He did need one, not much time to see an expert in the woods or training on a beach. Not that he really wanted Aphrodite to do it.
Suddenly, her form shifted, growing sleeker and a tad bit shorter. Sharp featured remained, but her eyes angled a bit, settling on a beautiful amber-grey. Hair, once black as night, turned a deep auburn color. When it settled, he was staring at an exact replica of Artemis. Bar a vast majority of her clothes.
He was now torn between horror and arousal, fucking hormones.
"Rather me do it like this?" A playful smile tugged at her lips. Thankfully, the voice was still very much Aphrodite, or he would likely be in overload.
Every ounce of his remaining strength was required for the simple, slow shake of his head.
"Thought so," she shifted back into her usual form, well the most common one at least.
"What about them?" his green eyes flickered to a small group of white-robed women filing into the room. Each with a different build, but the same dark hair and brown eyes.
Aphrodite followed his gaze, "Huh? Them? It's just the muses. I like music when I work my magic." A wave of her hand, like swiping through a playlist on her phone, and the goddesses behind her began to harmonize.
The strangest part of this whole thing? It was pretty much another Saturday night by this point. Gods, he needed to get out more. If you didn't consider spending time on Mount Olympus and getting a haircut from Aphrodite herself—while listening to the Muses—getting out.
"Bless my soul."
"Herc was on a roll."
With a resigned sigh, he tuned out the singing women, focusing on the goddess before him. Only offering a short nod of accent, a bad idea he knew, but to hell with it, he let her begin her work.
It was a quick affair. Especially considering she could apparently summon various tools of the trade from thin air. Occasionally she would stop, offering some slip of godly gossip—something about one of the big three getting a divorce—or bark for the next song in her 'playlist'. But the whole thing only took about five minutes.
Satisfied and feeling much lighter, he went to stand, only for the palm of his divine hairstylist to slam just hard enough into his chest to push him back down.
"Not done."
"Huh-" was all he managed before she snapped her fingers in his face. All at once, his body chose to disobey him, growing numb and sluggish at even so much as a blink. His clothes were sheared from his body, leaving him in a pair of forest green boxers.
Leaving him no time to process this sudden chance of pace, she was on him.
Her hands pulled at his skin, pinching, tugging, stretching, shrinking. It was like he was made of soft, wet clay, and she was a potter trying to find the best shape, the sleekest corner. Smoothing him out in some places, pulling him taunt in others. It was, in all honesty, horrifying, and would no doubt lead to no end of therapy in his coming years.
When she had finished his legs, she stopped, peering at his boxers intently for a moment. Only to purse her lips in thought.
"D~onn't y-y~ou da rre." he slurred through numb lips and half-lidded eyes.
"Oh my dear," she offered him a predatory smile, staring up at him from her kneeling position at his feet. "I don't think I need to change this at all~"
An involuntary shiver went up his paralyzed form. After a long moment of her biting at her lips hungrily, and Izuku considering a restraining order, she moved on to his chest and arms. When finished with them, she began to tear at his face. Which was easily another three years of therapy, four if she went back to his boxers.
After what felt like an eternity, it was over. The goddess taking a few steps away from him to admire her work.
"Di immortals, I'm good." She sighed, relaxing into the stance of a lovesick schoolgirl. A snap of her fingers and he was free. The weight lifted from his body and all the feeling returning at once. Including the sensation of fire racing across his upper arm.
A dove, outlined in black, perched within a large onyx clam-shell that seemed to glitter like nacre in the fading sunlight. Aphrodite had blessed him, it would seem. Whether that required her to turn his skin into Play-Doh or not was still out for debate.
He waited for more, another thought or permission to leave. None came. She just stood there, swooning, hand having come up so that she might rest her cheek in its palm.
After a very long, very loud silence, he made to stand. Moving slowly in the hopes he would not provoke an attack. Like a gazzelle trying to sneak past a very hungry looking lioness. He did not even notice the muses stop, nor each in their own wilted states of love-struck.
Quietly he padded past her across the cold marble floor, unnerved by how her eyes followed his every move even as her smile remained blank and untroubled. After a few feet he began to move a bit faster, and faster, until he was all but running through eerily quite temple. When he saw the flaps of his tent, dangling in the air, he was quick to push through them.
…and skid right into Athena.
Ares had apparently chosen to leave a minute or so prior, leaving her as the only person in the clearing when he came dashing out of his own tent-turned-portal to hell. From the looks of things she had been coming to check on him, only to notice him a bit too late.
Her arms reached out last second to stop him, keeping them from impacting one another, but had not cut down his momentum quite quick enough. Leaving them standing face to face, their noses only an inch or so apart. She started to open her mouth, likely to ask where he had been, only to snap it shut. Her eyes shot wide, and a golden warmth radiated from her cheeks.
In a brief flash of light, she was gone.
Was that bad?
Beep. Beeeeeeep~
His eyes cut sideways to his sentient-motorcycle, unable to believe what he had just heard. Throwing his hands up in defeat, he took off toward the safe part of the woods. Women. He could not, for the life of him, understand them, try as he might. Which was not a lot, but really, his motorcycle?
Beep?
"A walk, I guess." he threw his hands up once more, disappearing into the treeline.
What frustrated Izuku the most about his current predicament was not so much that he had received yet another godly blessing, on top of the others he already felt he did not deserve. Nor that it had come from Aphrodite, his personal stalker with the libido of a hyperactive rabbit and the tantalizing ability to turn into any girl he had ever so much as took a second glance at. Difficult though it was, her shapeshifting ability had not quite been enough to have his urges take over just yet.
Using him as a lump of wet-clay, while horrifying on so many levels, ranked surprisingly low on his growing list of grievances. Avoiding reflective surfaces for a while as he had time to process the event would be the best course for keeping things that way. Athena vanishing in a surprised flash of ether at first glance had been enough to make him a tad trepidatious about seeing what the goddess of love had done to him. But that was a future Izuku problem.
No his current rise in blood pressure was, in fact, due to his own idiocy.
So thrown off guard by Aphrodite's surprise invitation to her palace of winged babies and heaps of non-consensual sculpting, then Athena's disappearing act alongside Arcee's…cat call? Kinda? That he really could only think about getting away from it all, if only for a few minutes. In hindsight, wandering into the monster infested woods at dusk, while lost in thought as well, was a very aspiring level of stupidity.
More so considering he was wearing nothing but a new pair of sneakers, courtesy of Hestia, and his boxers.
Thankfully, through the divine protection of the aforementioned goddess and Hephaestus, the biting cold that carried with the wind was practically a nonissue. Apollo's blessing likely had some hand in his inability to feel cold as well, but as of now, Izuku still had yet to figure out how reliable those blessings were as the sun waned. So he wasn't cold, but that was the least of his current issues.
Instead, he was now unarmed, unarmored, and wholly lost in some random patch of wilderness as the sun died. An issue to even the average mortal—he had no idea when he had started using that term—but he was now more or less a demigod. Which means he was now privy to the whole bestiary of random mythical creatures lurking through these woods that wanted to suck out his bone marrow or make leathers from his hide.
So now he had two choices. Wait until Artemis found him, then have to explain why he was out here nude in the first place, which every prediction saw as ending within him as a horned rabbit for a few hours. Or, heavens help him, he could keep blindly walking and hope he made it back to camp before she had to come looking for him.
Only, he had no idea what direction camp was in.
Things were not looking up.
Someone chuckled behind him, light and full of a youthful mirth, walled with a wizened air that reminded him of the scant few visits from his grandfather before the man had passed.
A quick hundred and eighty degree pivot left him trying to decide if he was blind, or if gods just liked to carry stranger structures around with them in some sort of special pocket. Pulling them out whenever they found a suitable situation to use them.
A great bonsai tree rose between a patch of trees he had walked through moments ago, skyward branches reaching over the pines, creating a mingling of thin needles and ovular leaves. Its trunk, twisting riverlike down toward a bulbous swell at its bottom, was mostly hollow. Wrapping around the small wooden table and stools resting within its heart like a bark covered shroud, leaving only a semi-large gap for ingress that looked oddly like the crevice he had fought the troll in.
Upon one of the two seats, situated either side of the rough-hewn table, sat a man who Izuku would recognize anywhere. Great jeweled spear leaning against the wall behind him as he raised a simple porcelain teapot and began to pour its contents into the two summoned glasses with otherworldly grace.
"Quite the day, I would imagine, for you to be wandering alone in such a state." Izanagi's eyes twinkled with mirth as he sat down the pot, turning to face the teen with a raised brow. Just as when last they had met, his free hand toiled about, stroking the long silver strands of his beard.
"Tea?" he motioned toward the table with his other hand, the white fabric of his robe hanging low enough from his arm that it passed but a hair's breadth from the top of one cup.
There was something odd about seeing the ancient deity. Not that coming across any random deity within the depths of the Japanese wilderness would be anything to be concerned by, random little meeting with deities seemed to be something of a pass-time for them. A chance to offer cryptic wisdom that, if he was an honest man, as his mom raised him to be, made absolutely zero damn since even a quarter of the time.
No, instead it was the fact that Izanagi himself had deigned to extend such a visit. He had informally met a vast majority of the major Greek gods, most in passing, and a handful of minor divinities and spirits. Little had come from his own pantheon, the gods native to his homeland. Summed up in a brief, somewhat vague meeting on a random junk-littered beach that ended with him getting pummeled by a literal god of war.
Which made this visit somewhat concerning.
Izuku quietly slid into the seat opposite he-who-invites. A swarm of fireflies swam in lazy circles over their heads, offering a surprising amount of light in their sequential bioluminescence. The warm yellow light of their glow did nothing to obscure the curious gaze of his gracious host.
"Thank you," Izuku offered a polite bow of his head, graciously taking the warm porcelain to his lips.
Hestia's lessons on proper etiquette, while as useful as they were informal, were not exactly a how-to-guide on dealing with pantheons outside the Greek. Strange that he felt more at ease with the gods of Greece than those of Japan.
Izanagi waved a hand, a seemingly dismissive action. Whether it served that intention or not was unclear, as alongside the movement came the sudden weight of fabric across Izuku's body. He noticed it at first on his sleeves, distracting him from the bitter tea scorching a path down his throat. A deep, forest green fabric that reminded him of pines in the spring. Deeper greens stitched into its surface coiled and stretched into crashing waves and billowing clouds.
For a moment the god seemed about to speak, only to stop at a warm, multicolored glow shining from below his right sleeve. Right around the exact spot Aphrodite's charm now marked his skin. The fabric of what had once been a kimono roiled like a frightened animal rushing about him in search of safe harbor. What had once been an elegant kimono had been transformed into an equally magnificent toga that left both his arms and shoulders exposed, clasping together over his right shoulder with a simple golden laurel.
Izanagi frowned, "The roots are deep…" he muttered mostly to himself, gazing up after a moment to offer a kind of sad smile, like a proud parent watching their child go off to start their one life.. "They have grown quite fond of you, the Greeks. Even now, they seek to claim you."
Izuku blinked, a bit confused by the exchange. Not to say that Izanagi was wrong, but the Greek gods were a bit more complicated than that. Or maybe less complicated? He wasn't quite sure. Either way, it was just as likely Aphrodite's blessing was enforcing her own fashion sense upon him. It did not even escape the realms of possibility that she had just interfere herself in some manner.
"They have their moments." Izuku smiled timidly over another sip of awful tea.
The god chuckled, some of the joy returning to his weary features. "And I should hope so. You have gotten yourself into quite the mischief since their intervention. Really, my boy, two goddesses?"
Izuku did not need anyone to tell him he was currently the color of a ripe tomato, he could feel the heat in his face even over the burn of the tea he was still trying to hide behind.
Grandfatherly and kind, the god smiled down at him. Watching for a moment in silence as the young man gathered his thoughts. It was only after Izuku had finished his tea, and after the god unfortunately set in mind that he needed another, that the island-maker chose to speak one more.
"There has been a…change, in the nature of things, my boy." He muttered low, as if the trees beyond their arboreal den had ears and were conspiring against them. Which was, weirdly enough, well within the realms of possibility. "The enemy has twisted with the shadows in which they hide. Drawn allegiances with a great manner of things twisted and foul. This war is no longer Greek."
"But I haven't even had a chance to see a Titan."
"By design," the god assented with a nod, "a predator is not seen until it wishes to pounce, prey does not flee when it knows not it should be afraid."
Artemis had said something similar during one of their outings. That a good hunter is not spotted by his quarry until the moment when the strike becomes unavoidable.
"Wisdom to be found in our shared lesson to you," Izanagi remarked, the trails of his infinity dusting across Izuku's surface thoughts in a way that was almost tangible, a gentle polite reminder that he was there, that he could hear. "But I bring more than wisdom, my tidings come with warning."
The surrounding air grew cold. Passing thoughts of prying ears returned with a heavy weight that now sat upon his shoulders. A terrible apprehensive dread settled somewhere in the pits of his stomach. Moments ago, he had been thankful for a warm drink and some clothes. But meetings with a god was never a simple matter.
Reaching back to grab his spear, the god stamped it into the earth once, and the tree around them shook. The fireflies that had formed their makeshift lamp swarmed around his body as it slowly dissolved into more of the glowing insect. In a final swirl the mass of light-bugs dashed through the tree's opening. Leaving behind darkness, and the echoing words of Izanagi.
"See not with your eyes, light your own way in the night, trust in heart's design."
Like he said, cryptic wisdom.
Wait…was that a fucking Haiku?