You fell in love with a blistering sun and forgot to cry out when your lips became singed with pain
Oh, you wanted to devour that love whole and have it illuminate all the darkest parts of you
But it would only burn you alive to have that kind of fire running through your veins.
Forget all the stories written about Icarus—forget the tragedy,
Kiss Apollo on the lips and drink in all the heat that radiates from that touch
As your eyes start to water and his hands start to wander,
Let the tears travel down the length of your face and create the ocean into which you will fall
(Then, only then will you have the strength to look Artemis in the eyes and tell her that her cold shoulder was freezing your heart.
That you wept every night because the stars blanketed you in their vacant stares and you felt vulnerable without her arms around you.
The phases of the moon were a disheartening reminder that she never liked falling asleep next to you, especially when she could be out in the woods finding her next kill.)
You asked the artists to paint Apollo’s face as a wash of anguish as you slipped from his reach;
Golden tears crystallizing in his eyes that would melt only when he forgets how softly you cradled his neck.
It won’t matter anyways, by then the waves will have slid your body beneath a suffocating blanket of rolling blue,
And you’ll have already forgotten the tremble of his breath against your skin
Icarus’ love-struck daze stole his chance to say goodbye, and he begged to be able to as he plummeted to meet the ocean.
You didn’t have anyone left to say goodbye to, so you accepted your fate with spread palms and tried not to think about just how much the impact would hurt.
History will stop repeating itself when mortals stop falling in love with gods and goddesses | a.h
The second you touched down on the foreign soil, you were on guard. That Shadow thing had decided to drop you on the coast of a deserted beach, but why? You spun around, hugging your arms to your shivering body. You weren’t scared in the slightest. Confused, angry but not scared. Most of all you were pissed that the Shadow abducted you from your home and left you on this island to fend for yourself… not that home was much better though.
“And who might you be? This isn’t a place for a girl like you.” A voice sniggered.
You whipped around, met by green eyes and a smile. The smile wasn’t friendly though, it reminded you of a wolf’s snarl as it circled its prey; arrogant and dominant.
“Who am I? Who are you?” You looked around exasperatedly. “And where the hell am I?”
“Tone the attitude down, love. S'not very ladylike.”
Your eyebrows shot up in disbelief, an insulted look crossing your features instantaneously. How did a stranger have the decency to tell you that you weren’t acting ladylike when you had just been stolen from your home and suddenly harassed by some random boy?
You narrowed your eyes, pushing past the boy. “If you won’t tell me where I am then I’m going to figure it out myself.”
You heard him laugh behind you. “You won’t get far without my help. This is my island and you won’t find anything unless I want you to.”
“Are you ready to bow down to submission yet?”
You snorted. “Bow down to submission? Do I look like a dog.”
The boy laid stretched out in a tree branch, one leg propped up and the other dangling from the branch. He watched you with an irritating smile, one you would like to smack off his face.
“I told you,” He tsked. “You won’t find anything —.”
“—Unless you want me to, yeah yeah. You’ve said that a few times now.”
Sitting down on a rock that had managed to rip its way through the Earth, you buried your face in your lap and wrapped your arms around your legs. You felt a body sit beside yours and with one peak you figured it was him.
“I know you’re upset my pet, but I can make it all better if you let me.”
His accented voice was like a siren’s song, lovely, warm and inviting but as soon as you let yourself become taken by it, your life would be no more. You sighed.
“Can you at least tell me where I am.”
You lifted your head to meet his playful gaze.
“I’ll give you a hint. You’re in the land where Lost Children go to be loved again.”
Your eyes squinted. Lost Boys? Lost Children?
“Neverland…? That makes you Peter Pan?”
The boy smirked, one side of his mouth lifting higher than the other and indenting a dimple in his cheek. “Precisely.”
You tucked a piece of loose hair behind your ear before he stood up and held his hand out in front of you.
“Let’s go back to camp, it’s going to rain soon.”
You purse your mouth and stood next to him, letting his open hand curl into an awkward first between you.
“I’ll just go my own way. When you say the word camp it reminds me of a summer camp where you sit around the fire and roast marshmallows. Not that that doesn’t sound wonderfully fun,” You say with an exaggerated roll of your eyes. “But I’m not here to roast marshmallows and sing camp songs.”
Pan tensed his jaw, feeling his teeth grind against each other. With one usual snap of his fingers, Pan always got what he asked for but he oddly liked the defiance act you were putting on. He remembers how Wendy eventually became clay in his hands and she would bend over backwards at anything he said but… not you. Pan could only imagine how strong his ego will feel once he got you the buckle.
“My camp is no where near child’s play but if you really want to live by your own rules, then you have to prove your worthiness to me.”
“I don’t have to prove anything just because you lack to see it. S'not my problem.”
With lightning reflexes he had your jawbone gripped between his thumb and forefinger, the skin becoming hot and subtly numb under his aggressive touch. Anger immediately flood your senses and you tightly gripped his wrist as a warning.
“Prove to me that you can survive on my island without my help then. Show me,” He whispered, hissing the letters.
“…that you can and maybe I would look up to your so called worthiness. Until then you’re nothing but a literal lost girl to me.”
You took his wrist and flung his hand off of your face. “It’s not very gentlemen-like to man handle a woman, Peter Pan.”
The smirk reappeared onto his face and he paced himself a few steps away from you.
“Peter Pan never fails. Gain my respect by proving yourself.”
“You lost my respect by referring to yourself in third person.”
With that, you turned around and started your way blindly through the forest. You frankly didn’t care if you left Pan standing there. The fact that you were dumped on this island without your say makes it your island as much as it was his.
It had been a few days since you had seen that annoying boy and honestly, you weren’t doing that bad. You were able to find food and despite what Pan had said at the time, it had yet to rain. Neverland was beautiful, with fluorescent wild life and creatures you had only ever imagined in dreams. You were still asleep and the sun had yet to rise over the tops of the pines. The colors of the sky above you bled through each other like a painting, creating a dreamy glow throughout the air.
You groaned and rubbed your eyes, rubbing the sleep away from inside of them. The chilly air pinched at your cheeks and created goosebumps down your body, making you sigh. The sigh was stolen by a gasp as an arrow shot past you, missing the top of your shoulder by a hair’s length.
Your eyes whipped towards where it had came from, only to be met by nothing. You leaned backwards and retrieved the arrow, holding it in front of you as a weapon. Pan had never mentioned anything actually dangerous on Neverland, so what the hell was attacking you?
Another one slung past you but this time, missing you completely. You snorted and stood to pick it up. “Can whoever is shooting at me stop? Nice shots by the way.”
You didn’t miss the pain of the third one, flying swiftly and piercing your shin. Though it didn’t make it too far in, your knees buckled and you toppled down, blinking through the tears as you tried to rip the flimsy arrow out. Blood ran down the expanse of your ankle.
“Now this is a site. I didn’t even shoot that hard.”
You knew that voice, you hadn’t heard it in days. Pan. You gritted your teeth as he emerged from the bushes, dropping his bow to the dusty ground.
“Why would you shoot me?” You shrieked, hands shaking. Before Neverland you had never experienced pain like this, the worse being a scratched knee or a sprained wrist.
“I’m trying to get you to prove yourself. I’m tired of you moping around my island. It’s getting quite boring.”
With a shot of adrenaline, you sprang up and pushed Pan into the body of a tree, holding the wooden arrows horizontally against his neck. Pan only smirked in response, even daring to let his hands rest daintily on your waist before you elbowed them away.
“Do you always go around shooting new kids on your island, Pan? Do you think this is funny or something?” You pressed, tightening the arrows against his neck. The wound on your leg groaned as you stood on it but you couldn’t back down now.
“I didn’t even shoot you that hard, silly girl. And if you’re trying to scare me, all you’re doing is amusing me right now.”
“And you’re making me incredibly furious. I am this close to strangling you, I swear.”
“I don’t think you would.” He taunted, raising an eyebrow.
You bit the inside of your cheek and glared at him, eventually releasing your hold and throwing the arrows onto the ground. No, you wouldn’t hurt this boy despite him hurting you. You left Pan where he was and went to cut the flimsy material of your hand made tent off, wrapping it around your shin as a makeshift band aid.
“What?” Pan asked. “No slapping, no screaming, no girly fits that I won?”
“No. Unlike you, I wasn’t raised in a jungle where we get back at people by using more violence. Violence isn’t the answer.”
“I see.” Pan nodded, taking slow steps towards you. He kneeled next to you and gently moved your hands away from where they were tying the cloth together. You went to bark at him to move his hands away but his stare stopped you.
“At least let me heal it up. It’s the least I could do, you did prove your worthiness after all.”
You allowed him to use whatever Neverland magic he had within and heal up the bleeding arrow wound. Within seconds it was gone, no trace of pain or blood left behind after the stroke of his hand.
“Better now?“ Pan asked with a gentle voice. He looked almost… kind? Genuine? Concerned?
Before he could stand back up you threw your balled up fist square into his jaw, making him stumble back for only a millisecond. Shock registered on his face and his hand flew up to where you had punched him.
“That’s for shooting a goddamn arrow at me. I don’t need to prove my worthiness to anyone.”
Though punching him probably hurt your knuckles worse than it hurt his jaw, you stood up and held your hand out.
“What?” You mocked, using his exact tone of voice from earlier. “No girly fits that I won?”
Pan laughed, a genuine boyish laugh and accepted your hand as you helped pull him upwards. You ran your hands down your dusty clothes and sighed.
“Let’s go to your camp. I haven’t eaten a real meal in hours, I’m starving.”
Since then, Pan had never decided to cross you again.