Percy Jackson Fanfiction The Gods See Percy's Scars Mga Nobela at Kwento

His eyes moved over my face, my throat, the uneven rise of my chest, and his gaze felt like a caress, stirring a hunger I couldn't ignore. “Do you want this?” he asked, the answer already burning in his eyes. I nodded. A smile touched his mouth. “Tell me when it gets overwhelming, and I’ll stop.” “Okay.” He eased me onto the bed and pulled his shirt over his head, revealing broad shoulders, a lean waist, dark ink curling over one arm, and scars scattered across his skin. He looked as though the moon goddess herself had shaped him and then decided to let him walk among ordinary people. A naked god stood between me and the rest of the world.

I wanted to find whoever did this to her, find them one after the other, and make their lives hell. She turned in her sleep and a soft sigh escaped her lips. I was enthralled by her whole features, even with the scars, she looked like she wasn't made for this realm. Each time people say that be calm, your mate would be perfect. I never believed it till now. She was perfect and the scars didn't make her any less than perfect.

My hair is in its natural color, the strands fall over my shoulder, covering part of my breasts, my eyes are darker, they no longer look like just amethyst, but a purple agate, and my white skin is covered with scars. Scars that will never heal, because they are the memory that the Gods left me, as if what I had lived and seen would be forgotten. I am not a person who cares about scars, since I was a child I have carried them, but these... I hate them. They are not things I can be proud of. They weren't made for defending a loved one. They weren't made on an honorable battlefield... They are just petty and if you look closely you can see that they are divine souvenirs, just another way to le

I smiled sadly. Achilles walked over to me and took my hands, stroking the scars on my wrists. “You've developed a great survival instinct.” His tone is so soft and gentle, but there's an anger underneath, not directed at me, but at the one who left so many marks on my body. “But you missed something. Everyone knows how primal Perseus is... But contrary to what you think, I can stop him. I've done it a few times.” He reached up and caressed my face. "And unlike those who did this to you, Perseus seeks help for this condition, he knows it's not healthy, it's not right. He's extremely proud and hardly anyone knows about it. Unlike you who are open and don't care.”

Mike's big hand covered mine and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Incarnation of Gaea, do you think you can stand against me?” The old God asked, his breath stinking like rot and decay, I could see black flecks spraying from his mouth with his words. “I think we can,” I said, my eyes narrowing on his expanse of sliding flesh. The skin on his body, if you could call it that, was still peeling and falling off with a glopping sort of splat when it hit the ground. I saw Zach’s nose wrinkle as he eyed the offending pile of flesh and Lance cringed at the stink. Perses lifted his head to the sky, his neck making loud crunching sounds as the bones ground together. Like I said, she clearly had really q

He heard her voice almost whisper his name. He went to turn to see her but her hand was on his back. He felt finger tips trace over a long scar. He shut his eyes as she touched it, pulling his lower lip in as he did. The scar stretched from his upper right hand shoulder and made its way across his back. Her finger tips found a matching one and then another and then another. She traced them, her heart hurting for him as she did. The scars were old and faded but His skin flinched under her touch as if her touching the scars were still painful. She withdrew her hand, staring at his back. The more she looked the more scars she saw. “What did this to you?” Ariadne asked, her voice horrified.

“Slowly.” His jaw clenched. His breath caught. For a heartbeat, she thought he might rebel. But instead, he obeyed. His hands moved to the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head in one fluid motion, the fabric whispering over his skin. Scars littered his torso some old and silvery, others fresher and jagged. She traced each one with her gaze, cataloging the battles, the burdens, the brutal truths he never shared. "Look at you," she murmured, circling him. “Carved by war, cursed by a goddess, feared by your own kind.”

“They're bleeding…” He smiled at me and said softly “it's fine, it happens sometimes. Besides, they'll heal” He was wrong. My hands traced along the deep cuts on his shoulder, his body tensed under my touch. I looked up from the wounds and met Scar's eyes directly in front of me. His pupils were dilated, his lips parted slightly and he looked absolutely breathtaking. “Your eyes” there were no longer fully green, they had a glint of gold in them and I found myself mesmerized by their color.

I should be offended that he would watch me while I was naked, but the fact that he saw my scars and was still here tells me he didn’t mind them at all. "I wish I could take them away. But any scars given in the underworld are permanent. Every time I looked in the mirror, I would see them, and I hated it." I started chewing on my lower lip while my eyes welled up with tears. "He whipped you…" His finger trailed on the hideous long scar that ran across from my left breast down to the middle of my stomach. His touch was setting fire to my skin, but it was a comforting one. "Why?" "He caught me casting a spell on my body. I was only able to make one, and he made me confess what the spell I conj

He looks at her and then at me, bows his head and walks out the door, closing it behind him, but I see him stop and stand in front of the door through the clouded glass. Ava then turns back to me, "Do you mind if we take this off?" I hesitate for a moment. I don't like anyone seeing my scars. They remind me that I failed to protect myself when I got taken by Valentino. The only one to have really seen them is Zachariah, but I still don't feel comfortable with even him seeing them, as my body is no longer beautiful because of them. I reluctantly remove my shirt, allowing her to see the damage done. I don't miss as her eyes go wide at the scars, but she doesn't say anything about them.