Cupid and Psyche (Greek Mythology) - DabiHawks

Charming

His hair was as white and as soft as a swan's feathers, rooted into his skull and stretching out to the Gods above, almost mockingly. He had deep, crystal blue eyes that both welcomed and pierced anyone who dared to gaze upon them, stirring up mixed feelings in all those around him.

He was frightening, but alluring. Mysteriously off-putting, but... charming, in a way. Or maybe it was his looks that did the charming. He was never the type to put in effort towards such immature things.

Touya Todoroki didn't bother with love. Why would he? Love was found in beauty, and beauty was as much as a curse as it was a gift, if not more. Even before he dyed his divine white hair and forced his beautiful blue eyes into a natural scowl, nobody approached him.

They were intimidated. Insulted, even. The people assumed that he was arrogant and narcissistic, ready to spit venom on the hideous rodents who scurried under his feet.

Just because he looked like a God didn't mean he was one.

Over the years, Touya worked hard to look the part of the villain. His fluffy white hair was now jagged, dark like a crow's. His soft eyes hardened– sharpened. If they were dangerous before, they were deadly now. And the worst of it– primarily caused by his feral father, Enji– were the scars all over his body.

Dark purple decaying flesh replaced his smooth olive tan; they engulfed his jaw and ran down his neck, spreading like oil down from his right shoulder to the palm of his left hand; they wrapped around half of his left bicep and swallowed the rest of his left forearm. Though most of his lower body was spared, 80% of his abdomen was not, tarnishing his previously sculpted torso.

Touya thought he had escaped the curse of beauty, but he hadn't. Aphrodite, the Goddess of Beauty, was still beyond envious.

"This is outrageous," she scoffed, tossing her glass of wine to the side as she stood and marched away from the scene. "How dare a mortal rival my beauty?! It's outrageous! Isn't it, Shouta?"

"You talk too much, Nemuri," grumbled Hypnos. He was the God of Sleep, and ironically, never seemed to get quite enough of it. There were two main reasons why that was, and one of them was Aphrodite, who constantly flabbered about how she must be the most beautiful and sexy being to ever exist.

"You know better than to insult me, you sloth," Nemuri seethed. "Aren't you upset that a mere mortal outranks a Goddess?! You should be furious!"   

Shouta yawned. "It doesn't bother me, really. The girl didn't choose to be beautiful, did she?"

"It's not a girl," Nemuri blurted. "It's a boy! He's a twenty-one-year-old depressed alcoholic who's covered in the ugliest scars I've ever seen!"

"Then how is he–"

"I don't know!" Nemuri cried. "I don't understand it! With that sort of power, he could steal the stars out of the sky! Every mortal would worship him over me. He might even take my place as the ruler of love! Oh, I might die at the thought. This is horrid. Help me, Shouta, please! I'm going to die!"

"Nemuri," Shouta groaned. "Hush. You're squealing like a child."

"Ah, that's it!" Nemuri cheered. "I'll order Cupid to make that man fall in love with the most horrid, ugly, monstrous creature! That should teach him a lesson!"

"I don't think–"

"Oh, thank you for your help, Shouta," Nemuri purred. "Really, you are quite the man. You're dismissed! Do you mind summoning my son upon your exit?"

"If I say no," Shouta muttered, "I'd have to listen to you squeal for three days more."

"Thank you, darling! I'll speak with Apollo to solidify things, while you run along and be of use. And goodness, get some sleep, would you? Hizashi and I are tired of looking at the bags beneath those beautiful eyes of yours."