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deicidis · 2 years

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I Have Trembled My Way Deep

Morpheus x Naiad!Reader

Summary: The God of Dreams assists you in escaping Poseidon's obsession.

status: Completed One-shot

wordcount: 15.9k

warnings: Implied non-con (not Morpheus), slow burn ish?

18+ only, your media consumption is your own responsibilities. Warnings have been given. Do not proceed if these matters upset you.

I have trembled my way deep into surrender

I have stretched my aching body across the world

I have stood at the threshold of your wonder

Bid me enter, Lord, allow me to unfold

—

You remember

that it was a game for Poseidon. A sport. Something to fill his spare time in his eternal life. For you? Your ruin.

The god of the sea appeared one day, at a beautiful dusk, where you had lain in your lake and watched Astraeus paint the sky. He declared his love so casually, smiling wide with his sharp teeth. Claimed he fell at the moment when you had visited the shore of his domain, and offered you a place to sit amongst his many mistresses of court.

But you never met him, and you were put off by his leery eyes on your skin. You heard the way he loves, cruel and unnatural and impetuous. He‘d confirmed the rumour himself when he seized you by the arms then forcefully attempted to take you to the sea after you refused. But your nails were sharp, and it had sunk into his cheek. You recognize the disbelief written all over his face, that a lesser being dared lay his hands on him. Then he grinned as he saw the blue blood running from the wound. Your stomach coiled in fear as you ran, but he ripped a lock of your hair first, then he’d let you go. Because he likes toying with his food.

In fear, you came to your mother for help in any way she could. To look into the future. But your mother only gave her tears and a sole advice; run far from here, if all else fails invoke the name of dream god, Morpheus. Pray to him and he shall ease your suffering.

Of course she would not risk an open war with the Pantheon and the death of her other children for you. She was not as young, as short-tempered as you remembered. This fact left bruises on your heart, even though you understood.

What good does a dream do, mother? You asked incredulously.

Everything, my sweet. She answered.

It was an absurd notion. Since when does a god give their kindness so easily without expecting something in return? But your mother had never given you false counsel before, so you kept her advice close to your heart.

You kissed her cheek and kissed her hands, then gave her your tears. She, in turn, steadied your hands that trembled in anger and sorrow. Kissed your forehead for a very long time as she held you close you almost couldn’t breathe. Her tears overflowing, her rivers and streams are hissing.

This felt like the tragedies you used to watch when you went into the city with your sisters.

Go. I will buy you time. Remember, call upon his name should all else fails.

It was a heartache to leave your Lake, your friends, and your sisters without so much as a farewell. Always moving during the night, sleeping during the day between the ravines, under the river, inside dark caves. Your cheeks are always raw, streaked with tears. Your heart never rests from beating in wariness. There was never a moment of respite. You ran until your feet hurt, your soles blistered. Your mind was a beehive, its queen in fear that infects the colony.

For every single day that passed, your resentment brewed towards the pantheons. They surely watched this misery caused by their blood. The Olympians were silent, the Olympians let it all happen.

Only sleep was the moment of peace to be had. It didn't come easily at first; you were always startled awake by the smallest sound, the snapping of a twig.The splash of a fish. Sprinted from your hiding spot at every little noise. You almost grew mad from the lack of sleep, the dark under your eyes increased by the day. So you swallowed your pride and you finally prayed to the god of dreams to give you a swift fall. A sweet dream where you are home among your sisters and friends free from your tormentor. He never fails to grant you one. Your mother was always right, you admitted bitterly.

You tried to prolong his blessings, but you had nothing to offer except feathers from some birds, little carvings you whittled with your small knife, ripe fruits you picked from the tree, your thanks and prayer every time you wake. For you are always awake at the right time. Strangely refreshed and fulfilled. Never a second too late for Poseidon to sink his teeth into your skin.

You thought Poseidon would grow weary of his chase. But a day turned into weeks, into months. A year turns into three, then four. And five. You weaved between cities and forests, found love but had to leave them, hiding in other Nymphs' habitats, betrayed by some. Somehow, you are always at the right time to move. Knew when something wasn’t right, when the air started to brine with salt. Mostly your dreams inspired your caution. And you thank your benevolent god for his omens.

But fleeing alone is not enough. Though your calves are stronger, your lungs endured, you were exhausted beyond what your heart could take. You want Poseidon to stop, to rot where he stood.

You want him to suffer and tremble just as much as you did, you want to plunge your pocket knife into his eyes and see his blue blood in his cracked open skull leaking into the ground.

So was the reason why you sat at the edge of a river bank and watched the twilight sky instead of running when you could sense that he was growing closer and closer. You were ready to end it all, and you will let it end on your terms, fresh water always feels like home. Let it be fresh water the last thing you see. Not one formed with salt.

"I know you’re here, little Nymph." His rancid voice bellowed out in the distance, Your resolve crumbled by the second. The knife you held to your throat trembled as your tears warmed your cheeks, and you feared it would be etched like a mark. Your body shivered instantly as you closed your eyes. Despite having nothing to lose, despite convincing yourself that meeting Thanatos is a better choice, there is a part of you that still clings to life and its abundance of delight to be found. Mother to be seen again. Sisters to hold once more. You realised you were never ready to toss the Obol in your pocket for Charon. So you dreamt of a better future as you did one last desperate attempt. You prayed to your God.

"My benevolent god, lord Morpheus, if you could hear me, I beg of you. Help me. Take me far where he couldn’t find me and you will always have my service." you whispered. It was a foolish attempt. Poseidon would’ve found you to the edge of the living world. Moreover you were no one, minor spirit of no import. No Olympian nor a daughter of one. Why should a god such as Dream meddle in your affairs? Still, the god of dreams was a salve to your burden, more than any other gods. Perhaps the only god.

"Your prayer is heard." Your eyes jolted open at a voice that was not Poseidon’s. You snapped your head to find the Dream God beside you, behind you, but he was nowhere to be found. Your heart palpated twice as fast. The hairs on your neck stretched upwards.

"Return from whence you came." He continued, and your body instinctively leaned into the water, finding the river had turned as black as the night, as still as one.

"Reach into me, and you shall hide no more." Once more, Dream God’s deep and quiet voice enticed and you paused, digesting his words that felt too good to be true. You turned to see how close your oppressor was and you could see the outline of his form between the trees. Your heartbeat was a hummingbird trapped in your ribcage, you felt like vomiting all over the water. There might be a greater sacrifice to be made by exchanging with Dream god.

But you would give Dream god your limb for that opportunity.

So you took a deep breath, steeled yourself, and plunged into the cold, dark water. Then unfastened the Peplos around your skin weighing you down. You swam deeper, deeper and deeper. It was a Sisyphean effort. There is no direction, no life could be sensed, no surface to return to, only a bottomless river. Your arms ached from carving the water in the endless dark, there was no way of knowing where it is above or below. Like swimming into the bowels of the earth where there is only Kronos, waiting for you with his primaeval emptiness.

It was hours. The darkness was suffocating and you were terrified beyond your mind, afraid of making an irreversible mistake.

Then, a speck of light can be seen. Pale blue, glimmering like a star.

You swam into it, almost in a frenzy, desperate for something tangible. It expanded as you swam, blinding and comforting, and when your body had passed its threshold, you had fallen wet onto the earth that was not from whence you came, but the homeland of a god.

—

You lay flat on your chest on the wooden plank of a bridge that stretched into the far distance, its foundation stood in the middle of blackened water. Your body limped, bare, devoid of energy. Your arms pulsated with shooting ache. But all of that was eclipsed by your silent wonder, for you are greeted with a night sky sprawling with billions of star clusters, its light shining pale blue layered with an iridescent sheen.

Is this where Dream God resides? So close to the stars and the very heavens.

As you drank all the splendour of Dream god’s domain, the dots in your field of vision expanded, until you realised it was not dust, but figures coming your way.

When they had reached where you laid, you met a beautiful pointy-eared woman, with black and white clothes you had never seen before. Behind her, a figure with unruly black hair wore a black chiton draped over one of his pale shoulders and the other fastened under his arm.

He bears that otherworldly beauty that seems to be reserved only for Primordial gods. A paradox of youth and antiquity.

"Here, let me help you." The woman said as she helped you to sit, she had taken a black fabric from the figure’s pale hand, which you swore was not there mere seconds ago, then wrapped you with it. The fabric was so warm. You sighed, melted into the cloth.

"It’s alright, you’re safe now. He can’t follow you anymore, the wretched beast." she said, mumbling the last part. Her eyes bore an irreplaceable warmth and kindness. As if she had known of your misfortune and suffering, familiar with it.

While he watched you silently with his bright eyes. His gaze was sharp and rigid.

As you clutched the blanket over you, he stepped closer, and you gazed upon him.

"(y/n), daughter of Nemea, blood of Potamoi, for as long as you are in the Dreaming none shall harm you and none shall enter my realm with the intention of one." he declared to you, his voice dark and low. But you think he mostly declared it to his realm, binding his words into the Dreaming.

And his words bind you.

Words that made you safe and secure. You felt it in your lungs, the air tasted light in the back of your tongue. You felt it in your blood, hummed gently and numbed your fingertips, all encompassing.

Your eyes stung and your lips trembled. It was a relief like no other and you could not contain your tears, murked by bone-deep exhaustion, 5 years of anguish and unchanneled rage. At the same time, you felt like sleeping for the rest of your life, never to wake to wash away this engraved weariness. You sobbed so hard, madly. You must have looked pitiful in their eyes. But you reckoned they won’t care what you looked like anyway.

—

The first week, you asked Lucienne where you should put the offerings for the God of Dreams. Wreaths of sweet-smelling flowers to scent his chamber and your best carving of Acanthus were in the basket you weaved. Lucienne informed you that Dream God desires no more offerings. You frowned at that. You admit that your offerings were modest, but you had always given him your best. Did he always detest your craft? Although you did not pry. You would only follow what he bid you, as his faithful servant.

In your spare time, you visit other dreams and nightmares, assist Lucienne with her books, and in exchange, she teaches you to read and write in a variety of other languages. She was pleasantly surprised by your new-found talent in linguistics. You absorbed everything remarkably fast.

Then you read. So many cultures with so many religions and gods you had learned, to find that Dream god and his family are beings older than the Olympians, even the Primordials. Consorting themselves not only to the gods of Hellas, but all over the world, was biting into a forbidden fruit.

Your entire life you thought the gods of Hellas were the only true gods. And it has left you in some form of existential dread.

Moreover, walking in the Dreaming and taking everything around you made you heave occasionally. Its infinite and ever-changing nature spins your head. But you are a highly adaptable being, and you adapted quickly, for survival's sake.

The Dream god was seldom seen, the first year of your stay your few glimpses of him were scarce, the number of times you see him when you were helping Lucienne in the library can

practically be counted with your fingers. The quiet flutter of his Chiton swept the floor. Often he didn’t even realise you were there, you didn’t make yourself be seen either.

When he saw you, you considered exchanging pleasantries, but you seemed to clam up whenever you mustered the courage. In truth, you wanted to be invisible. You wanted him to forget your existence so you could always be at the brunt of his indifference. You don’t know if he is as volatile as the other gods of Hellas, and should his wrath descend upon the Dreaming, let him forget that you exist.

So you stayed silent and arranged the books as he read quietly on one of the many intricate wooden chairs placed at the long table. You scattered all over the library except where he sat. When you truly needed to work where he resided, you waited as long as you could before he departed. Or silently arranged the books. You’d bow your head to him before leaving. He acknowledged you with a flick of his gaze.

—

It’s hard to keep track of time in the Dreaming when there is new splendour to be found every day. Like the Sirens you befriended in the frozen sea, the desert Golems you met on the barren wasteland, flora and fauna that do not exist in the waking world, or how one of Dreaming’s many meadows is filled with herbs grown from babies’ first tears. Not to mention Fiddler’s Green, where mirth is eternal and beauty is in its core nature.

Yet the dull ache inside you persisted. Stubborn and sore. There is no splendour in the Dreaming as comforting as your home. Your Lake.

A Naiad neglecting their habitat is not a Naiad. Do not ever forsake all-mother Gaea’s gift . Your mother used to remind you when you were but a tadpole of a water spirit.

When you closed your eyes, you could still feel its connection in the Waking World.Tranquil, one bank shaded by a great Willow tree, its tendrils leaning over the water, protecting your domain. Vast and wedged deep in the forest.

But you adapted, for survival’s sake.

So you trudged to the Dreaming’s many forests, trying to find a pattern in nature that resembles your Lake, even just a little. After days of searching, you found it in a clearing with a willow tree, taller and grander than yours back home.

You couldn't tell which was your luck or the kindness of the Dreaming. You were grateful all the same. When you touched its coarse bark, you breathed in deep. It reminded you too much of what was. Then you watch over the clearing for days, waiting for it to change at the necessity of the Dreaming, but it never did.

So you laid there to sleep under its overreaching branches every night. In a week, you had moved in completely there to live. Carved many woods from the branches that would fall whenever you wanted them to fall. Slept under the glimmering pale blue stars.

Like a blink, your second year passed.

You stretched like a cat on the grass after you had just woken up. The pink trickled in the sky, and soon the bright pale blue would follow. The Dreaming was pleasantly cold at that hour, and one of your favourite things is to watch Fenghuangs flying past the sky. They too like to stretch their wings when the sun is coming.

But your morning was interrupted by the stir of the wind, and you noticed the branches of the Willow slouching by inches. You did not know then that they were anticipating the coming of the Dream God, who had apparated silently into the clearing.

You stood abruptly—almost knocking yourself—and approached him, then bowed your head.

"My lord." You greeted him. Your heartbeat paced a little faster.

He regarded you with his bright, cold eyes. His black chiton swept the dewy grass.

"Is there anything I could do for you, my lord?"

"The question is, is there anything I could do for you ?" His voice was sharp.

"My lord?"

"Your mother reminded me to fulfil my end of the bargain. Have I not done that?"

"Bargain?" you still can’t understand his meaning.

"The bargain we made on the spring equinox. Of my Dream." he sounded somewhat impatient. Irritation laced the edge of his voice.

"My lord, I'm afraid I don't follow." you almost stuttered out your answer. Utterly lost. Your mother? Bargain? His Dream? You look at Dream God as if he grew a second head. Which is not that impossible in the Dreaming, you remembered.

For a moment, silence has passed as he scrutinised you. In that span of time you dug your nail into your thumb. And you focused on the bridge of his nose instead of his eyes because you couldn’t stand the pressure of his gaze.

"Do you know why you’re here, (y/n)?"

"Because of your kindness, my lord." you answer with a thought you used to have before he approached you with this business. Now, you’re not entirely sure.

Since when does a god give their kindness so easily without expecting something in return?

He sighed quietly. Closed his eyes for a second.

"Your mother did not tell you."

"If there was something to be said, she couldn’t. We- I was running out of time." There was a sharp prick in your chest. Your body remembered the fear of that day. You steadied your breath.

"Would you kindly tell me what it is, my lord?" you pressed further.

He ambled then stood beside you, his eyes swept around the clearing. You followed his line of vision.

"It was centuries ago, a rogue Dream had found their way into your family’s domain. Made themself a part of one. Fell in love with one her blood. By now you must have learned that the waking world is no place to inhabit for Dreams or Nightmares." he said, and you latch on to his every word.

"Nemea claimed that I could never have Basalt back without her blessing."

"She bound them." you murmured. Recognise your mother’s magic all too well.

"If I forcefully transport them into the Dreaming, Basalt would cease to exist if she didn’t sever the ties." he continued.

He had made her sound uncharacteristically cruel to you. She was not as young, as short-tempered. You reminded yourself.

"What did she want, lord? What did she bargain for?"

"Aid for her kin, should one ask for it. I granted her a life for a life. A Dream for a Naiad. Whatever aid they prayed for."

How convenient. You thought.

"She is a seer, lord." there is something bitter at the back of your tongue. Has the Dreaming always been exactly where you belong? Until when?

"Thank you, Dream Lord, For telling me. I would never know otherwise."

He pursed his shapely lips, the edge twitched slightly.

"I had assumed you inherited her abilities. That you passed your words once you settled here."

Blood rose to your face. Not for a lack of trying, the Dreaming is, thankfully, impregnable. But you have always been the runt of the litter, not entirely talented in magic or sorcery. The best you could do was cultivate your domain to the best of your abilities and heal injuries of the body. Nothing more, nothing less.

"No lord. Her talent did not pass to me."

His reply was silent acknowledgement, then his eyes travelled around the clearing, finding some of your carvings resting on the tree.

"What are you doing here?" he rasped.

"Oh this-this is where i sleep."

He looked at you with a slight pinch of his eyebrows.

"The city’s room is extraordinary my lord but-i feel closer to home in the open air." you continued.

Only silence follows, and you wait for him to depart.

But he lifted his hand instead, his fingers clawed and the Dreaming gave a subliminal sigh.

The wind that tasted familiar beckoned to you. At the same time, the clearing that was small, filled with only grass and a single tree, had turned into a perfect replica of your home. From every blade of grass, the Willow that stretched over the side of the Lake and its hanging leaves gently brushed the clear water, to the patches of Hellebore and Crocus around the bank, the water lilies dotting the water’s surface. Your heart squeezed at the sight.

"My subjects should feel at home in my realm." he claimed.

"Thank you, my lord." You said, barely able to contain the tears brimming in your eyes.

He only stared at you with an expression you could not recognise. Then left, leaving traces of sand behind.

You took off your ivory Peplos with a roaring sense of urgency. Then you ran, jumped into the water that caused a tall splash, swam and glided all over the Lake until your arms ached.

—

When you met Dream God in the library again, you didn’t hesitate to greet him. You don’t know how much he would tolerate you, but you found it quite liberating to know you didn’t have to cautiously tiptoe around him, relying on his kindness alone. Surely a simple greeting wouldn’t hurt.

Sometimes he approached you. You have become an efficient staff in the library, able to memorise all sorts of books from your new found love of reading, and Lucienne referred to your good work. Perhaps you spoke to him more than the last 2 years combined. After all, the number of times can be counted with your fingers.

And now,

The sun has set, the hush descends upon the Dreaming. You chew on Saffron from the many Crocus dotted around the lake as you sit bare on the shore. Day by day you wonder what your mother saw in the tendrils of your many futures. Tears have found their way burning your eyes. An underlying fear of the Moirae almost chokes you. The Fates spun, measured, and cut, pushed you into the Dreaming, pushed Eros to strike Poseidon with his arrows, and it was all too much for you to bear. You almost die because of it.

What could possibly be the fates weaved for your imminent future, you hope that it is an easy one. Your tears land on your thigh as you decide to whittle into dusk. You manage to convince yourself that this is a temporary solution, a temporary home. You will count the days until you can return.

—

Abel had invited you for cheese and sweets, and you had invited Lucienne to come with you. It was a Herculean effort to convince her because the royal librarian never seemed to take a day off for herself. But she finally relented because she couldn’t stand hearing your incessant whining about how much you would be heartbroken if she didn’t come.

What Abel didn’t mention was that he had wine, and all three of you drank the jugs empty, an ice breaker of some sort that made for an absolutely wonderful time with the two of them. You exchanged stories between the alcohol and laughed until you gasped for air. Moreover, you had never eaten such foreign delicacies before and you were pleasantly surprised by the explosions of flavour melting in your mouth.

"You must let me teach you! Let’s do it weekly so we can spend more time with each other!" Abel had kindly offered.

"I’d love to." was your answer, you’re genuinely excited to learn.

When you say your goodbyes to Abel and wave to Cain, it is already night. Even in your drunken state, the sight of the stars tumbling down at intervals astounds you. Falling towards the mountains, the forest, one finding its way in Abel and Cain’s residence. You notice dark grey clouds hanging around the moon. The Dreaming temperature is plunging cold and it mists your breath. There’s a lot of things that you can’t make sense of in the Dreaming and most of the time you ignore it, you’re positive you’d go mad if you try to keep up with each and every event. But these stars, on this particular day, feel menacing, ominous. As if it could scourge the Dreaming into ruin.

You wonder why at this exact time of the year this keeps happening. So you asked Lucienne.

"At this time of the year the lord will be in his chamber the entire day, mourning the day Maenads tore apart his child."

"No... Orpheus was his son?"

"He was." Lucienne said, staring into the sky.

"I can't-can’t imagine his pain."

"Nor i. One of these days reminds you that the Dream Lord is not unfeeling."

"Who can be unfeeling when you lose a child in such a way." You murmured.

Your train of thought screeches to a halt when you hear Abel screamed from inside the greenhouse. When you try to make sure he’s alright, Lucienne blocks your way. And explains that it is a very normal thing for Abel to scream.

The Dreaming belongs to hers and you always trust her words. Thus, you reluctantly choose to go home at her bidding.

"Can you walk?" Lucienne’s endearing concern warms you.

"Ha! Can I walk?"

Can i?

"Can you?"

"It’s very hard for me to get drunk." Lucienne clarifies.

"That’s… luck and a curse." You chuckle, and she gives you her sweet smile.

As it turns out, one has found their way in the shallow water of your lake. Drifting on the surface of the water. Pulsating with raw power, angry. Bright and beautiful. The tranquillity of your dwelling shattered by its motion.

And it pulls you, a clarity between your overlapping visions. Causes you to descend carefully into the water to collect them.

"Leave it." His dark, rigid voice stops you in your tracks. Dream God appears silently.

"Apologies lord." your speech almost slurs as you retract your hand and take a step back, rippling the water. You can barely see the outline of his form, but his eyes glimmer bright in the dark.

Like cats. You mused.

He does not acknowledge you, merely brushes past to wade in and gather the stars. Then disappear in a blink.

You fall to the shore and retch violently on the earth. Then, to rid of the bitter aftertaste of the vomit left on your tongue, you pick some Crocus and chew on some Saffrons.

The Dreaming has taken you in completely. Quieten your anger and despair, lulled you into complacency. Despite time refusing to blunt the edge of your bouts of melancholy, you don’t cry as much. The Dreaming turns time a little faster. Keeps you dancing to its tune until you are too tired to think. Sways you into your 13th year with ease.

You have waited long enough, and you muster enough courage to ask for news of the waking world, if it’s possible at all to return. Whether your tormentor’s dark shadow looming over your consciousness wanes and forgets.

You ask Lucienne if she has any information pertaining. But her mouth holds a shadow of a frown as she pulls you to sit beside her on the palace steps. Both of you just finished with your work.

"Lord Morpheus does keep an eye on the Olympian, and he bade me to watch over this situation’s development. He even tried to... inspire him away. But the Olympians are powerful. And your hair would make it so easy once you step into the waking world. I'm afraid not yet my friend."

You nod. Swallows thickly.

"Just a little longer." she whispers as she enfolds your hand gently in hers. You closed your eyes before she could see your tears, and held her fingers tight. You don’t know what you would do without her.

Just a little longer.

For every decade you set yourself up for disappointment. For every decade you ask Lucienne. And her answer is always the same.

I’m afraid not yet.

Just a little longer, my friend.

By the fifth decade, you stopped asking altogether. You no longer have the stomach to face those four simple words.

You choose to wait for as long as you could.

On a bright sunny afternoon, under the Willow, you are whittling the likeness of a rabbit you met at the bridge leading to the palace. Frida, she had introduced herself. The bunny with a perpetual childlike soul and voice. Whenever and wherever you think about her, a smile will find its way to you, a precious little grey furball tumbling about the Dreaming. So you’re trying your best to capture her likeness. So absorbed by your craft you don’t even realise the coming of Dream god.

"My Lord." You stand as you dust off your Peplos from wood shavings. The other holding tight to your Frida.

"Anything you need my lord?" you offer.

"Your mother pleaded that I deliver her message."

Pleaded. her longing represented in those 3 syllables and it pierces you.

"What is the message?" your voice almost whispers. Quickly you find your chest getting tighter and you dig your nail into the unfinished carving.

"That she begs forgiveness for her lack of action in the waking world."

You can’t exactly pinpoint when your tears were falling. Your mother is not an intense occurrence like it was for the first years of your stay. Shortly, Poseidon’s cruel visage wormed his way into your head and your heart feels heavier, faster. Breathing is becoming harder. With a violence your state of mind is thrown into those years. Your legs become as limp as the days you ran through the years of evading the Olympian and you lean against the oak tree, sliding down. Gasping for air. The last time this terror occurred was 419 days ago. You remember because you counted them.

The terror persists even for decades.

The dream god paces to your side, kneeling before you and clutching your free hand tightly in his.

"He can’t follow you anymore. Never as long as you're in the Dreaming." he said calmly. Kindly.

You swallow thickly, breath stutters in and out. Your tears leaking down your chin as you focus on the way his tight grasp steadily anchors you down, it’s strange because he is the very Dream and you had expected his hands to feel hazy and washed, merely a blur. A memory of a dying Magpie in your arms when you were a child.

But his hands are as vivid as your tears, as warm as your breath. Flesh–like as your own.

He holds your hand until you feel too tired to feel anything, until you unclench your jaws and steady your breath.

"Thankyou, for delivering her words." something passes on Dream God’s face.

"The guilt torments her."

"You’ve seen it?" formed her dreams too?

He gives you a nod.

Silence hangs in the air as you gently remove your hand from his. Not quite uneasy, not quite comfortable either.

Dream God flicks his gaze to the carving on your other hand.

"Who’s that supposed to be?"

"Frida, my lord."

"May I see?" You hand him the almost finished carving. Frida's imprint can be seen on your palm, indenting your skin, almost bleeding. You didn’t realise that your grip had been iron tight.

You notice that he observed your injured skin for a moment, then to Frida.

"You have a way with your hands." he murmurs.

So why did you turn it away?

"My lord? Can I ask you something... callous?"

"Ask, then." his eyes still on the miniature.

"Why do you reject my offerings?"

He ruminates on the carving, runs his thumb on the wood, then returns his gaze back to you.

"You are not here because of your devotion, but a pact from a very long time ago. There is no need for it"

"But I would still like to give you offerings." You confess. In truth, you feel the need to do something for him. He let you stay in his Dreaming, made you a perfect home. Never forced you into labour or harmful endeavours, even if he could. You almost feel like a parasite, gorging yourself on the Dreaming’s splendour and refuge.

"You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to." he replies quietly.

"What makes you think I don't want to, lord?"

He contemplates for a moment.

"Know that none of my subjects have any obligation for that."

He returns Frida back to your palm, then stands as he bids his farewell. Before he leaves, you plead for a favour.

"Please tell her… tell her I love her. Tell her I understand."

You try to be as silent as possible as you walk to the throne room, holding a recently carved statue close to your chest. You placed the wood carving at the front of his doors on top of freshly weaved flowers, hoping he would accept the likeness of beautiful Jessamy.

You don’t know if it’s an offering or a way of saying thankyou for his help amidst your bouts of terror. You hope he can see that it’s both.

"I suppose you are the one who made little Jessamy."

You almost drop the book in your hand as you swallow your scream. Sometimes the Dream god is silent to a fault.

"Yes, my lord. Do you like it?" your heartbeat races.

"It is beautiful." He said appreciatively. You let out an imperceptible sigh. The mere thought of his displeasure towards something that came from your craft—practically an extension of your being—would eat you alive.

"Do you need anything, my lord?" You offer him a smile you’re trying to contain.

"No, it’s fine." He says as he settles into his usual reading seat. You continue to busy yourself with shelving the rest of the books.

—

Once every couple of weeks, you whittle and weave more for the dream god. Most of the time he would show up the next day at the library. He would remark on your carving here and there, but he always comes to read on the long table, occasionally asking you to bring him the books he needs, or the many ledgers dusting on the shelves.

At one point, when his eyes are no longer on the book in his hand, lost in his thoughts as he sits on the long table, he ropes you into a conversation.

"How did you learn how to carve?" he asks out of the blue and it stuns you. He never asked anything about you before.

"Oh, well, one of my sisters taught me."

You realise he’s expecting you to continue.

"She’s much much older than me, wiser too. Photine is a delight." You explain. Thumbing the edge of a leather-bound book in your hand. A sharp tug at your heart has you breathing in deep.

"The Naiad with the brown hair." he follows, and you nod.

"I guess you know of her dreams too."

"Including you, once." He notes.

Oh, well, in that case...

"My Lord, what was the inspiration for giving me a dream where I was getting chased by a giant mango with serpent legs?"

He huffs a small laugh. An unfamiliar sight. The first time you’ve seen him and it almost feels odd. Like looking at a featherless bird you guess. A strangely beautiful featherless bird.

"My nightmares are imaginative creatures, but it wasn’t me who made it so."

"I see." you nod. Appreciating his candour.

You didn’t hear the dream god enter the library, but you’re getting better at noticing his presence. You can feel him nearer and nearer, his magic shifts the air wherever he is. Light and rife with something indescribable. It has a burning wood scent to it, which reminds you of a ceremonial pyre humans usually throw for your great cousin in her domain.

Your work is finished, but you are so used to seeing Dream God after your offering that you find yourself waiting for him. Passing the time by watching the glory of the Dreaming through one of the many window panes. Almost lost in its beauty and restlessness.

"Your craftsmanship is very beautiful too." You profess to him, who stands behind you, following your line of vision.

"Aeons of practice." He answers, his voice light and low.

"Do you see it as I do, your own creation? Or do you notice every little mistake you’ve made?"

He tilts his head slightly, digesting your words.

"The Dreaming is what I am, all of its flaws and beauty. But my dreams and nightmares are the progeny I wrought that can only be reared instead of control. They breathe into their own life. There is a marvel at the way they flourish to become their purpose."

Him and his boundless abilities, it’s hard to digest that he would even look in your direction, a thought you contemplate many times over. You inhale deep of that smell of embers, swirling pleasantly in your lungs.

"Why do you help me?" As you turned to face him, the words left your tongue before you could fully process them.

"Because it is a pact." He tips his head down at you.

"But you could just-ignore my pleas and she would never know, she could do nothing."

"And risk the fury of one of the first Naiades? Mother of the whole Pegaeae in southern Hellas?" His lips tugged upward. "There is no need for conflict, is there? It is a good-natured wish, and I am a being of my words."

You blink, did he just humour you? 53 years in the Dreaming and you barely scratch the full capabilities of Dream God. You know, not even your mother’s full wrath from the death of her hundred daughters would rival a speck of dust of his power.

"She knows what I am. Knew the extent of my abilities. Your mother is a clever Naiad. A capable seer in her own right."

"I don’t understand, why did you even bargain with her in the first place?"

He goes silent for a moment. "Maybe I was intrigued to see where the pact would go."

"I never thought that anthropomorphic beings could get bored." You deduced.

A moment of silence passes over him.

"Perhaps." was his only answer.

You close your eyes. Trying to recall the face of your mother but it was so long ago, you almost forgot what she looked like.

"How is she, Dream Lord? What dreams does she have?"

"She dreams of nursing her heart from the pain of losing you. Even in the waking world, she did only that."

"Is my mother in the Dreaming, lord?" you ask Dream God the next time you see him. Sitting at his usual seat.

"She is." His voice is careful, a brush inquisitive.

"Where is she?" you press further.

"Her dreams are turmoil over you and memories of her days as a sorcerer and a warrior. Or nightmares, precisely. This part of the Dreaming is a much calmer place. You won’t find her here."

"The edge of the Dreaming then? The part with the rusty black gates?"

"Yes."

A silence crawls its way. Concocting hundreds of scenarios for you to see your mother.

"I-can i-"

"No. The only thing you will find there is pain and suffering. Not who your mother really is. You will only harm yourself." his low voice warns you.

You nod.

"I understand."

You did not try to find your mother, but a kind Nightmare with dark rounded glasses informs you where Photine’s dream usually takes place. On the construct of Athens, in the heart of the city, toiling away in a workshop with her many carvings and chisels under the supervision of the masters.

"It’s the one with the blue door. You won’t miss it." he smiles a charming smile that almost puts you under some sort of spell. But the more you observe his smile, the more you realise it is more akin to a grin.

"Thank you, you don’t know how much this means to me." you return his smile.

"Don’t worry about it. It’s my pleasure, really ."

It takes days of walking and navigating through the Dreaming’s ever changing state. You have to pass the hanging gardens of Babylon and swim across the frozen sea. But you are determined to see her again, and the Sirens of the frozen sea have kindly accompanied you on your journey. Some of them even confess that they’re bored to tears in the barren region of ice and have nothing better to do.

When you finally reach the city, and find the woodworkers' workshop, the blue door is ajar. The sight of her long brown curls is enough to mist your eyes, tremble your lips. Suppresses your breath.

She is carving .

Always her biggest dream to become the very best. Some men and women are pointing at the statue she is sculpting, guiding her. Advising her to do better, she absorbs it all without so much as a complaint.

There’s a thin layer of iridescent sheen before the door, almost passing your notice. And the realisation of it makes you nervous. Somehow you know that it serves as a threshold. For what, you don’t exactly know, except your intuition is screaming you shouldn’t disturb its peace.

Your longing trumps your common sense.

"Photine." you call once you are inside the building. The men and women wouldn’t stop speaking, but Photine dropped her chisel onto the floor. Then turn to face you.

She reaches for your face, holding you between her palms, as if sampling you to see how much of you is real. Drinking in all your features. You struggle to hold back your tears. But Photine fails to do so. Her tears are leaking down her chin. Then her wail is the next thing that comes. Followed by her stuttering sobs. You try to contain her in your arms as her hands are holding on to you.

For a moment you think it was just a shock of seeing you after so long, and you try to tell her that you are safe and you will always be here. But her crying never ceases, even as you try to comfort her. The advice from the men and women becomes a little too loud, merging with Photine’s lament, her hold becoming a vice-like grip. Bruising. Everything leaps in magnitudes until all becomes too much, louder, deafening, spins you and the room is tipping over like the statue she carved minutes ago. Crashing to the ground and splinters into ashes.

A gust of wind swirls into the room, and before you know a vortex of sand swallows you whole.

You land on the shore of your Lake, on your knees as you cough your lungs out. Your throat feels scratchy, parched and painful. You drown your face and drink until you can hear the sloshing of water in your stomach. Then you lay on the shore, on your back, and found the crescent moon already hanging in the sky. A stubborn pulse slithers toward your eye,

You count the days until you can return to the waking world. You hope the end of the path will come soon.

You cried yourself to sleep that night. Didn’t even manage to slip into the water.

The coming of the dream god can be sensed. By the leaves, by the pattern of the wind, that approaching smell of embers, you know what he is coming for. So you offer the dream lord to sit beside you to enjoy the cool breeze of twilight, to watch the setting sun of the Dreaming. He surprises you when he silently sits next to you, and rests his forearm on his knees.

The dark purple had swallowed the blue in the sky and you watched silently. The Cicadas wheeze somewhere deep in the forest.

You don’t know what to say, except apologise for your insolence.

"There is an order of things even in the Dreaming." he reprimands kindly.

"I think… I think I turned her dream into a nightmare." you murmur.

"The Dreaming is a volatile place, you are not a Dream nor a Nightmare, and you went into a dream unstable."

You nodded. That doesn’t make any sense, yet it does. His dreams and nightmares are the purpose, the order of it, and you went past the threshold without so much as a permission. Disturbing procession. Oh, you hope they don’t hate you for it.

"I just miss her…" Your voice merely whispers, more to yourself than to him. There’s an annoying pulse on the right side of your temples, and you close your eyes.

"Am I to be banished, lord?" you ask the inevitable.

"I understand your affliction. It was a mistake that I'm sure you will not repeat."

You nod because he is right. That is a feat you will not repeat again. You have no intention of being a ghost that would terrorize your family.

The dream lord does not leave for a little while, but enjoys the cool breeze beside you in comfortable silence as he leans his other hand behind him. Both of you are lost in your own thoughts.

The twilight seems to go on forever. It seems the Dream God has willed it so.

The pain you will always carry. But this time, the ache in your heart ebbs away just a little more, and you feel a little less restless as the wind takes your worries away.

—

When you look at your reflection in the water, you wonder why you have not gained a wrinkle for the past two centuries. It’s true that Naiades live extremely long lives, direct descendants of Thetis and Okeanos are immortal due to the blood of their predecessors, whose blood is intimate to human devotion and beliefs. But your blood has been sorely diluted. A distant relative.

A minor spirit of no import.

You expect your appearance to change by this time.

You asked Dream God about this once you stepped foot in the library. A habit of some sort, seeing him there once every few days, his presence no longer hinges on your offerings. And you appreciate the comforting routine. In the way he comes almost weekly and takes place in his usual seat, in the scratching sound of the quill made from your hand filling in Lucienne’s ledger drifting between you. How easy he is to talk to once you know how to navigate his moods. Even his silence is an essential part of it.

But this time is one of many where you plague him with incessant questions.

"The Dreaming exists in between the universe. Every organism here is bound to a standstill. Time makes an exception for me."

"How is that even possible?" You couldn’t fill the gap between his words and your brain. Your quill lay forgotten on the long table.

"Because I have willed it so. Father Time has agreed." He turns a page of the book on the wooden surface, his eyes never straying from the written words.

"Father Time? Is... is that your father?"

"Correct."

The idea makes your head spin. The Endless are the children of Time himself? Observing the Dream God powers, that is proper.

"Is that the reason why in the Dreaming feels much faster and yet simultaneously slower?"

"Yes. Just like sleep feels brief and a dream lasts an eternity."

"Then I will never age as long as I am the dreaming lord?"

"As long as you’re here." he echoes.

You don’t know how to feel about your new found youthful immortality. You don’t even know how long you could stay in the Dreaming. When exactly is it safe for you to return? Does Poseidon even remember you? Would he pursue you still, from his unfulfilled demented inclination? Or you’re just one of many items long forgotten in his growing list of unfortunate victims.

You willed yourself to ask one more thing. Irrespective of how unprepared you are for the answer.

"Do you know if I can return to the waking world now?"

You see the way his hand shifts slightly on the arm chair, he lifts his gaze to you.

"No, (y/n). It is unfortunate that it’s still not." a trace of sympathy tinges his voice.

Your brows knitted together. Your nails dig into your sweaty palm.

"What, after all these years? Centuries later, he is still... still that? " you whisper. Needles stung the back of your eyes.

"In a way, you are the unattainable myth. You disappear in front of his very eyes, and seer after seer, oracle after oracle, he cannot locate you. Even the lock of your hair is ineffective. It is an obsession for him at this point, and as cruel as this sounds, it is a treasure hunt for him." A slight frown works his mouth. A hint of revulsion in the way he speaks of the ruler of the sea.

You grit your teeth until your temples ache. Your nose flares in anger as you try to calm your breath.

The dream lord scrutinises you with his sharp eyes.

"Thank you for telling me." you nod and finish your work as fast as you can. Then excuse yourself to return to your lake. Where you drown yourself to cool your burning face, your rage consumes you in bondage.

The Dream god’s revelation haunts you. Plagues you from falling into sleep. You twist and turn inside the water, rubbing your eyes. Biting your nails. And in the end, you return to the surface. Drape your Peplos and make your way into the forest. Weaving between the trees in the night. The grass damp beneath the droplets of your wet feet.

There’s that helplessness again. Your fate slipping away from your grasp as you feel the unbearable resentment simmering, threatening to spill. A dull shooting pain creeps in behind the back of your eye, seeping into your temple. You think you know where the pain comes from, that all the seconds and the minutes and the years of waiting feel pointless and small. That your centuries are nothing compared to the gods' eternal boredom. The end of the line has always been inconceivable. A myth you recite and recite and recite in pretence of a prayer.

That truth has always resided in your head, inside your skull. Becoming an infection that would never kill but torment. The unscratchable itch.

When is it going to end? When is it going to fucking end?

If there is a purpose behind all this, you don’t want it. You would spit on Moirae’s faces if you could. Carve out Poseidon’s heart if he has one.

Fine, fine . You will become a myth. You will make sure he will never find you again for the rest of his wretched eternal life.

The next time you find Dream God in the library, you ask him how long you are permitted to stay in the Dreaming.

The dream lord studies you with his sharp eyes. There is an underlying suspicion within you that he understands your meaning, knows what you are about to do.

"However long you want it to be, even for eternity." he answers.

The baby lamb with eyes as pale as the sky bleats gently in your arms. Walking through one of the Dreaming’s many meadows, you’re heading to the brother’s greenhouse. A basket slung on your elbow has been filled with figs you have gathered and you can’t wait to dip it in honey and enjoy them with Lucienne, Abel, Cain and Mervyn this evening, along with your favourite berry pie and tea in the midst of your weekly game of Senet.

When you reach the stony gates of the brother’s residence, you can see a familiar Chiton and pale shoulders, Dream God is conversing with Abel and Cain. Mervyn is already there too. Leaning against Abel’s greenhouse a good few paces from the other three. Puffing on his cigars, waiting for Dream God to leave so you all could start the game.

When the baby lamb bleats once more, Dream God turns in your direction.

"Good afternoon, lovely to see you all here." you greet them.

The turnip head smiles, waves at you and the brothers greet you back.

"(y/n)" there’s amusement in Dream God’s smile when he sees the lamb in your arms.

"What do you have there?" he asks.

"Oh, I think she’s lost. I couldn’t find her mother around. Do you know where she is?"

His smile widens, and you should’ve known that was not a good sign.

"That, is not a lamb, (y/n)"

"What-"

A scream leapt from your lungs as the lamb jerks and turns into a changeling in a flash at the flick of Dream god’s fingers, scurrying away into Abel’s House of Secrets. The little thing has a boar for a head and a baby for a body. Thankfully, your basket still dangles safe on your elbow.

"What just happened?" you ask, bewildered, heartbeat racing fast. You saw Mervin cackling with his hands on his knees while Cain wheezed his laugh. Only Abel asks if you’re alright, but even his mouth curls upwards.

And then there's the Dream God, chuckling lightly. You stare at him with widened eyes, incredulously, as you realise he is enjoying this.

"Oh, well, I'm glad that was amusing to you, lord." you feign annoyance.

He merely gives you a pretty smirk that makes you roll your eyes in defeat, but you can’t help your own smile too.

"Are you staying, lord?" you say as you hand Abel the basket.

"No. My affair has concluded."

"Abel and Cain are hosting a lunch. Would you care to join us? Lucienne will come too."

Abel stares at you approvingly, but Cain and Mervyn, well, their eyes are bulging out of their sockets, if Mervyn had one at least. They’re just begging for you to retract your question.

Dream God ponders for a moment, stares at you, and there is a consideration behind his thoughtfulness. Until he sees your friends turn still as stone, blanching, anticipating his answer, that he makes his decision.

"I have matters to attend to." Then he walks away, disappearing in a vortex of sand.

"Goodness (y/n) if you do that again you’re not coming to the next game." Cain hisses at you.

"Oh come on Cain, it was harmless."

"Yeah, I'm sure Lord Morpheus would be a wonderful guest." Abel, who sees the bright spot in everything, defends you.

"Kid, we all know he’d ruin the mood." Mervin chimes between his puffs.

Disappointment crawls its way at your friend’s reaction. Perhaps because you wanted Dream God to say yes and enjoy the wine that would make you drunk as the third round of the Senet begins. Or when the jugs of wine are empty the game would be long forgotten and everyone would try to outdo each other with the funniest stories. Sometimes the most dramatic, or the scariest.

It pains you that there’s a barrier between him and his own subjects, formed by each partisan through centuries of detachment from one another. Not all of his subjects could come to him on a daily basis and talk his ear off and annoy him with trifling questions, you realise.

Reasons within reasons. Most of all you just want to spend more time with the Dream God.

"Would you like to join me for lunch tomorrow afternoon, lord? Under my Willow. There’d be honeyed Figs and Berry Pie and Olive relish." you ask in the library. It was really spur of the moment question. One that’s been brewed by your constant prognostications, strings of what ifs.

A slight crease forms between his eyebrows.��

"There will be only me, no one else." you add, still remembering how he immediately withdrew when he noticed your friends’ reaction. Your palms grow moist from anxiousness.

He was silent still, returning to the book in his hand.

Oh gods, i’ve embarrassed myself… oh gods-

"I will be there." he rasps. His throat bobbed slightly as his eyes never left his book. You almost sigh in relief, smiling widely. Your delight overflowing.

It’s too awkward. This is the part you didn’t think through. You don’t exactly know what to say to him, and he seems to be at a loss for words himself. Sitting under the Willow and the food spread out on the grass, you don’t know how to start the conversation as you offer him the honeyed figs. You know some things about the Dream God, but watching him chew and swallow is something so surreal. Like a turtle out of its shell.

Determined not to ruin this event, you opt to say whatever comes to your head first.

"To be honest I didn't know that the Endless ate at all." You almost stutter over your words.

"There is hunger, but we won’t die without eating."

"Does it get painful?"

"Not exactly."

"How long did you go without eating?"

He contemplates for a moment. "A year."

"Gods, you must’ve been busy."

"In a way. It was a time of war. Food is the last thing on my mind."

shit.

"I'm... sorry."

"It was a long time ago."

"Well-I never know what to do without food. Naiades require very little sustenance as long as our habitat is healthy and humanity tends to us with their beliefs, but I get hungry all the time." you ramble as you stuff your mouth full of honeyed figs.

It has always been that way between humans and your kind. You feed on their beliefs, bask in your power with it, and in return you would protect Great Mother Gaia’s gift for them.

"Then it is a good thing the crocus around here is never ending." he remarks.

"The best part is that it blooms every single day! I nearly forgot to thank you for that, I get to eat all the Saffrons in the world. Well, I probably already did."

There’s an easy smile creeping its way into the lord’s mouth again. How you adore his unencumbered countenance as he is now. His usual cloud over his brow and the thin line of his mouth dissolving with the cool, gentle wind gliding along the areas of your lake.

After that, the conversation goes as well as you could’ve hoped for. Better even. He lulls you with stories of his time in the waking world, of other gods and even their dreams, visions of all the creatures that dream. Their subconscious hopes and beliefs, innovations and endless imagination.

"Even some of my Dreams and Nightmares are inspired by them."

"Is this a secret lord?"

"Don’t jeopardise my integrity." He smirks.

"Never." you press your fingers to your mouth. Biting a smile.

And you tell him the stories of your languid days as a Naiad. The way humans would find their way into your lake if you permitted it, for comfort with various injuries. How you’d grant their prayers with Hornworts and water lilies to soothe their ailing.

"You’re a healer?" he asks.

"Only for the body. If one consumes something from my habitat, then it will mend their wounds."

"Was it a gift from your mother?"

"No. But I learned it from her. You’d be surprised by the number of injured people wandering in the woods."

He hums in understanding.

"You’re a healer too, you know." you add and he only answers with a quirk of his brow.

"When it’s hopeless, all creatures that dream, well, dream. Of better things. You’re a balm for all living beings' pain. I’m grateful you’re here for all of us. I'm glad you exist." It was a sentence less eloquent than something you've strung together inside your head. But you appreciate the simplicity of what came out of your mouth, and a smile forms on your lips for him.

But you must have said something wrong, because there is a pinch between his brow and his lips are pursed thin. His gaze sharp, staring into your eyes. You’re afraid it might bore holes into your skull.

Your smile falters.

He stands just as you are going to inquire as to whether anything is wrong, avoiding your eyes, then walks a good few paces away from you as he disappears in a vortex of sand.

You were hoping you would find him at the library as usual the next week. But his absence is sorely felt when you wait for hours, almost the whole day, and he doesn’t appear. You ask Lucienne where he could be and she informs you that he is in the Waking World.

"For how long?"

Lucienne looks at you from behind her glasses, leans back as she clasps her hands on her desk.

"I don’t know. Lord Morpheus doesn’t make it a habit of telling me how long he is leaving."

"Right, of course." you nod. Biting your lip.

"Want me to pass a message once he’s back?"

"No! It's fine. Thank you, Lucie. Is there any work I could do?"

She hands you a ledger, then you scurry away before she can ask more questions, avoiding her inquisitive gaze.

You wait until next week. Then the next week, and then the next. He is nowhere to be found. You don’t want to flatter yourself and think you’re somewhat important for him to purposely avoid you. But it feels that way. You want to apologise for whatever offence you have caused but how can you do so when you can’t even find the traces of his sand.

Have you been too forward? Have you misread the situation before? Have you misread him?

"You’re out of the loop, kid. Come on. It’s your turn." The Turnip’s cigar plumes.

"Oh, sorry Merv." you took your pawn and placed it on one of many squares of the Senet.

"You behaved like this too at the last game. Getting sick of us?" Cain continues as he examines the board.

"She is sick for someone else." Lucienne quips, hiding her cheeky smile behind her cup. Nothing gets to pass Lucienne in the Dreaming and you know she noticed your growing agitation by the Dream God’s absence. It was only a matter of time before your friend’s confrontation.

"Don’t even start, Lucie."

"Now hold on a minute. (Y/n), what’s this about?" Merv chimes in, curious, suddenly intrigued.

"It’s nothing!"

"You know you can trust us, If you’re in trouble, we will help, (y/n)." Abel chirps.

"To an extent." Cain mumbles.

"Thank you very much, my dear friends. But I am not in trouble."

"Aren’t you?" Lucienne retorts. Her curiosity seeps through her teasing smile.

"Alright, maybe a little."

"Come on, kid. Spit it out"

You sigh loudly. Rest your hands on the round table for a moment. Then you start to recount the event. Pouring your concern amidst the blue smoke and yellow candles.

There’s a knowing look shared between your friends, when you whip your head to Lucienne, she avoids your eyes.

Oh no…

"What is it? What?"

"Eer… he’ll return. Just give him time." Mervyn scratches his Turnip cheek. Cain busies himself with the board and for the first time in a long while, Abel is silent, watching his own pawn.

"Oh no. I’ve done something awful, haven't i. Oh gods, he’s going to banish me!" you almost wailed.

"I can assure you it’s not that. If he wanted to banish you, you wouldn’t still be here." Lucienne laughs and chastises at the same time. Despite her smile, you know her enough to know that she despises the idea of you leaving the Dreaming unwillingly.

"You know, like I said, just give the big man’s time, kid. It’s fine. It’s not that. You’ll be fine. Now, are we gonna finish this or what?"

Abel suddenly slumps backwards and falls into the ground. Mervyn heaves a loud sigh and Lucienne only stares at Cain vacantly as he drops the knife in his hand.

"Last week, didn’t you promise you wouldn’t kill Abel in our next session?" you remind Cain pointedly.

"He took my place! I was about to take the second row!"

"That’s because it’s his turn, Cain." Lucienne retorts.

—

Enjoying the colourful Fenhuangs in the morning sky, you sit on the shore of your Lake, chewing on Saffron mindlessly, squeezing the purple flower in your hands as you memorise its velvet-like texture.

Like a deer wary of the faintest sounds, you feel it when a gust of wind comes your way and the hanging leaves dip gently into the water, the coming of Dream God.

Your heartbeat races, you feel like throwing up, but you take a few deep breaths, stand and grasp your Peplos hanging on the branch to drape it on your body.

It’s impossible to calm your pulse when the swirl of sand exhales Dream god into apparition. His black Chiton flutters gently in the whirlwind of sand. His comely face does not sport the furrow of his brow, or the thin sharp line on his shapely lips like the last time you saw him.

"My lord." you greet him and bow your head.

"(y/n)."

"Are you well, lord? I-i haven’t seen you in a while."

Steady. Don’t rush the apology just yet. You remind yourself.

"Yes I am." he replied courteously.

"I’m happy to hear that." You try not to reveal the panic that is practically strangling your chest by smiling.

Then he opens his mouth. Oh dear. Here it comes. You're going to get flogged.

"My apologies for leaving so abruptly, per our last conversation."

Oh. What?

There’s hesitation when he’s about to speak again.

"I…" he trails off, mulling over his next words. You feel your brows scrunching together, your mouth part just a slightest, as if you could taste his answer on the edge of your tongue.

You what?! You feel like screaming and shaking him by the shoulders when his eyes flicker to your mouth, back to your eyes, suspending his answer.

"There are matters that need to be tended to."

Goodnes. Is that it?

You nod along his words, unable to conceal your relief as you lean against the Willow. It seems your legs have forgotten their function.

Abruptly Dream God rushes towards you.

"Are you alright?" he asks with a worry. His hands are hanging midair, unsure where to place them.

But all you could do is laugh. At your folly and irrational augury. It seems to bewilder him all the more.

"(y/n)?"

"Forgive me, lord. I’ve been, oh I don't know. Foolish." You manage to say between your giggles.

"In what way?"

"I thought, I thought I said something wrong. And angered you, and then you’d banished me."

He blinks. Then grab your shoulders as his eyes latch wide onto yours.

"That is foolish." he admonishes, as if it is completely unthinkable for him to do so. You could only laugh more, placing your hand on top of his. Once your restlessness subsides you just realise how much you miss his presence in the Dreaming. The library. Next to you.

And that easy smile again makes its way to his mouth. His low and light chuckle follows not too long.

"Then, perhaps we should continue where we left off. Dust off the misunderstanding."

You sigh a smile.

"I’d love to, my lord."

That morning, he conjured Honeyed figs, Berry pies, Olive relish and many more. You talk and laugh and share silence into the evening. He willed the twilight to pass a little longer as you shared ripe peaches you sliced in half.

When a few weeks have passed, he seeks to do the same thing. You seek to do the same thing when a few weeks after that have passed.

—

You decide to take in the Dreaming completely. And it has taken you. Coddles and loves you, soothes your heartache and pain. You begin to call it home, in return, it mends your longing for the waking world. Changing your life at a steady, comforting pace.

The need to return to the waking world dissipates by degrees as the days passed, days you passed with your dear friends, your dear Dream god. Your dearest Dreaming.

—

Your smile is wide as you see Dream God approaching your home. But quickly falls when you notice that he does not return it with his usual smile of greeting, but rather with a pinch of his brow.

"Dream lord." You greeted him. Heart beating loudly. Something’s not right.

"Sit with me." He said.

You sat under the ever-expanding Willow. He sits on the opposite side of you.

"There is no easy way to say this, but your mother has passed, (y/n)."

It takes you a couple heartbeats to properly digest his words. You have almost forgotten what your mother looked like, but you think of her and your sisters often. And the love you bear for her, as she does for you, is still strangely familiar, burrowing under your heart.

"How?"

"In her sleep."

You sigh. Relieved. It has been more than 1100 years since the last time you saw her, and you thank those who protected her so she could die a natural death.

But her death was unexpected. You always expect your mother to be immortal. She may not be a direct descendant of Okeanos and Thetis, but she shared their blood more than her daughters.

That could only mean…

"The humans have forgotten her, don’t they?"

"The waking world changes fast." Dream God concurs.

You nodded. Your tears blur your vision as you clear your throat.

"Was she alone?"

"Her daughters are with her when it happened."

"Did she dream?" You asked with a broken voice.

"Yes."

"What did she dream about?" Your tears fall one by one. Your chest grows heavier.

"She dreamt of a different death. Holding Poseidon’s head in her hand, her sword in the other." Sobs leave your mouth. Your head feels a little dizzy, lighter. You grip the grass on the earth, feel as if you could faint and fall into the ground, but Dream God is inching closer to you, cradles your face delicately in his silken hands, then wipes your tears with his thumbs. Anchoring you down.

—

The dead must die forever. The dead are dead are dead are dead are dead. Returning to the pool of Atoms.

There’s a cruel thought, a line from one of many plays you watched with Photine in the city. It is a terrible reminder that grief and love are so closely interlinked. Vast and merciless and divorcing . You feel so small in the face of it.

You were hoping you could see her one day. You don’t know if you’re mourning the hope of seeing your mother once more or your mother herself. Both. You never thought it was possible to feel this much grief over someone you haven’t met in millenia.

After the news of her passing, days are spent under the Lake. Watching the sun raze down the moon in their routine as their light ripples on the water’s surface. You need to be in the water. Feel safest in it, closer to your kin. The generations of embrace of your mother and sisters are beholden in this very element of nature. It swallows your tears, takes it all and disperses it to embody your sorrow. It holds you there so peacefully for weeks that you forsake touching the surface.

Sometimes you feel the presence of the Dream God, but you don’t move a muscle to greet him. And he doesn’t disturb you in your fragile state as you contemplate your malady. He simply comes to see if you exist, then quietly departs.

On the 20th day, Lucienne stops by in the afternoon, calling you out, stirring the peace of the Lake. You begrudgingly rise and trudge to where she is, feel the water purposefully weighing you down as you sloppily lift your feet step by step. Begging you to come back with its droplets clinging to your skin.

Though you can’t lie to yourself, it’s good to see her warm smile and the slight pinch of her eyebrows.

"Haven’t seen you in a while."

You nod as you drape your Peplos over your unclothed body. Eyeing the basket in her hands that wafts a sweet smell, your stomach growls loudly.

"I know you haven’t eaten in weeks, so i won’t leave until you finish this loaf and tea Abel has so kindly made for you."

You smile for the first time in weeks. She did not mention your mother, and you are grateful for it. So you sit beside her under the great Willow tree.

It’s happening again. The dark in the sky, the unnatural stillness in the forest. The greyish clouds hanging over the sun. Even your Lake looks a little bleak, a little too tranquil. The lily pads wilted by inches.

The rain of stars would be in a matter of hours.

"I’m afraid we won’t see him until tomorrow." Lucienne says, as if reading your thoughts.

"Do you miss him?" She asks. Your lips are tight. You do. You do miss him.

"He misses you. Don’t know what to do with himself in the evening. He’s fussy when he can’t spend time with you and makes my job a little tedious instead." There’s a knowing smile on Lucienne’s mouth.

"Sorry Lucie." you mumble, and Lucienne drapes her arm over your shoulders.

"It’s alright, (y/n)." she assures with her gentle voice. Before you know it you’re crying again. This time in her arms, and she wordlessly let you clings to her coat and warm presence.

Once your tears have dried, she helps you clean the streak of tears and snot with a napkin. Then hands you the rest of the unfinished bread.

"I’m not joking when I said I’m not going to leave until you finish this loaf." Lucienne reminds and a laugh bubbles from you. You notice the relief written on Lucienne’s smile.

You don’t know what to make of it as you continue to chew on the sweet bread. You Know Dream God enjoys your company, but you didn’t know that it's at a point where he is capable of missing you. Especially one such as him, who could have any company he wants, one that is far more interesting than you. What does that say about you in his life?

Hopefully a friend. You mull over.

On that dusk, when Lucienne had left, when the waters of your lake reflected an even deeper grey from the sky, the first starfall landed on the shallow part of your water. You glide into it, then gather them in your hand, and it burns you, scalding and brandishing your skin with jagged edges. You quickly dip it inside the lake, cooling the diamond-like object with sharp points, clutch tight in your hand. You teeth clench from the burning pain. Searing through your flesh.

Why are you holding on to it? Why does it tastes so familiar?

In an instant, Dream God arrives on your domain, you are not at all surprised by his sudden presence. You felt it in the wind, the imperceptible stir of your Willow.

He looks tired. The edge of his Chiton seems to melt into his shadow that grows darker. The corners of his mouth are a little steeper. Eyes hooded with melancholy.

He strides towards you, waist deep in the water as he takes your wrist that clenches his star.

"Open it." he demands harshly.

You unfold your shaking palm and the star glows in anger, his eyes digest the burning skin on your hand. His brows stitch together.

"Look at what you’ve done." He scolds you as he takes his star from your burnt skin, hangs it back in the sky. Then his fingers hover over your wound, his fingers quiver slightly.

You don’t miss the hollow in his eyes. His youthful face emanates aeons of history and an antique lifespan he usually conceals. He looks… drained and exhausted.

Dream God has given so much to you, even by pact doesn’t lessen his actions and kindness. Seeing him like this is somewhat heartbreaking. Dispiriting.

You don’t know how his pain truly feels, you reckon it is much more painful than your experience of losing your mother, a natural progression of life, unlike the premature loss of one's child. But grief is grief. Perhaps there’s no need to measure it in order to understand its purpose. So you take his hand. Despite his confusion, he doesn’t raise his concern. You are leading him into the only comfort you know how to give him, trudging with him hand in hand until both of you are completely submerged in the water. Until your feet touch the earthy floor.

He seems to glow pale blue, hair as dark as the night, gently dancing in the water. He looks the part of a perfect Naiad, who could easily lure any man into his own demise with his bright eyes. Eyes that are always on you, when you tilt your head, when you remove the lush Hornwort from his face. Your unbrandished hand tight around him as you mused the frown on his mouth.

It’s true the water connects you to your mother and your sisters, but he created your Lake and its water.

He does not need words to say how distinctly sick he is at the desolation growing by the year on this particular day for you feel its destruction in the very water inside your lungs, infecting your bloodstream. How suffocating that looming shadow of despair thriving on this day, for he is every blade of grass and the very wine you imbibed, the very Hornwort you pushed a moment ago.

And he realises, you can feel it—see it in his eyes--that you know . In which he grasps your insides with all you consume, all you inhale to taste how much you are familiar with his grief by mourning your own.

You put a thousand wishes of consolation into one simple gesture. You slither your hands under his arms and wrap around his chest because you are not good with words.

You try to hold him just like how he consoles you under the Willow, and hope that it reflects his kindness even just a fraction.

Take the serenity you’ve given me and savour it for yourself.

You’re not entirely sure if it’s a pure altruistic reason for your Dream God, perhaps one of them is selfish. That you need someone to anchor you down before you slip away in madness. To prevent feeling alone in your sorrow under the surface of your Lake. His Lake.

But the water and the dreaming tremble imperceptibly. It’s hard to pay it mind when the Dream God circles his arms around yours, envelopes your back and buries his eyes on your shoulder in return. His fingers cling to your skin, almost desperate.

You and Dream god stay that way until your eyes fall heavy, your head droops on the hollow of his neck, until you are as still as the water surrounding you, as he does. His arms are a sense of comfort you haven’t truly felt in your long life.

When you woke up, it was dusk. Dream God is nowhere to be found, but the sky is greeting you with his dusk in a periwinkle shade.

—

For living almost 1900th years in the Dreaming, you learned one more language that no one can really teach you except for you and Dream God himself.

You can read Dream God as easily now, as he reads you. But that knowledge comes with the same cost he has paid to you, as you paid him, by baring your psyches to one another.

A mutual trade of need to be by each other's side. You choose to take meaning when he comes to you requesting for a stroll in the Dreaming’s many meadows, the bright sun would purposefully land soft on your skin. To his presence under your willow, passing away the day together with an evening meal that consists of fruits, pies, and laughter, current delicacies of the Waking World he would conjure. To the way he consoles you with his embrace when tears gather in your eyes at the thought of your mother.

He takes equal meaning when you remain in the library, waiting until the late hours for him to return when his responsibilities keep him long and away from the Dreaming. When you pass the plate of figs with drizzled honey for him and lick the excess sweetener remaining on your finger. When your presence can be felt beside him, lost in the volumes of books devouring the secrets of the universe, as he is lost in his own process of shaping Dreams and Nightmares.

And when the rain of stars comes, at the end of the day you trail beside him to collect his falling stars. The little jewels no longer scalds your skin. But the Dream God always mournfully apologises for the one that has, now merely jagged scars on your palm. To which you take his face between your hands and assure him you love the shapes it has left on you.

For each and every moment both of you have learned inches by inches. Accumulating language by centuries of communion.

It is a peaceful coexistence you and him affectionately clings to.

—

"I should like to think that we’re past titles, (y/n)."

Dream God demands as he’s helping you cinch the golden brooches on your shoulders to hold your Peplos together. One of his many gifts he had kindly bestowed upon you. Your hair still damp from the Lake, your skin barely dries because he conjures the afternoon meal before you even rose from the water. Impatient as ever.

"And what does that mean, Dream God?" you turn to him once he cinched all of the golden jewellery.

"That you should no longer address me as such."

You don’t understand why you are perplexed by the notion. You have become his friend, as he yours. It is only natural to call each other by names.

…that was partly a lie. You think you understand.

Perhaps, in a sense, some part of you silently worships him. For all your notions involving gods, you quietly revere the comforting hands that were on your shoulders a moment ago. And you uncover devotion when his skin touches yours, attain unyielding faith when you gaze into his eyes. In each and every title is in lieu of a prayer.

For you to call his name is somewhat akin to heresy, changing your carefully crafted divine custom, one that you’re unsure you’re ready for.

It places you on the same pedestal as him. You understand that he demands for this very thing. To be on the narrow and tall pedestal with him.

You sigh heavily as you try to cover your face, but he takes your wrists, gently pushes them down. His thumb lovingly runs over the scars on your palm. A flare of devotion stirs.

"Morpheus." He demands once more. His bright beguiling eyes search for yours, but you avoid them by focusing on the pooling darkness on the edge of his black Chiton.

"It feels wrong my-"

"Morpheus." he urges firmly. Lean down to find your eyes.

You bite the inside of your lip, The last time you spoke of his name was millennia ago. Aeons.

And you brace yourself for what feels like a blasphemy.

"Morpheus." you finally muster. The name is strange on your tongue and you swallow, swallow the name too.

A satisfied smile graces his lips.

"Morpheus." you repeat. Familiarising yourself with it. A rush of exhilaration spurs. His smile grows wider.

"Morpheus." Once more and a giggle slips from your mouth. His name tastes light and new and familiar.

The act did not take but gave you everything, no matter how unprepared you are for things to change within you, between him, you always found yourself embracing the uncertain future wherever he resides.

"Yes, (y/n)?" he answers and you laugh heartily. He follows. Dark and low and mirthful. Tickles and burns your skin and shoots arrows at your stomach.

—

The waking world has abandoned your former life. Morpheus explains that in your kind and your gods are no more than grand mythologies to lull children to sleep, for men to study. Other religions have replaced old beliefs, old deities and old ways of worship. Mankind does not believe the ancient ones anymore, and some creatures went extinct; the only legacy for your species.

Now, mankind cultivates their own nature, ravaging it themselves.

The news of your sisters’ death came one by one as the world discarded them. The death of Photine strikes you with overwhelming violence.

Devoid of power and human faith, she was forgotten, limped into obscurity and caved in on herself, met Death in her very own water.

The dead must die forever. The dead are dead are dead are dead are dead. Returning to the pool of Atoms.

You feel the ripples of the water, Morpheus wading to where you float in the shallow part of your Lake.

"Will I die like them?" you question, to him who blocks the sun, but mostly to yourself. Your tears trace the sides of your temples. Your sorrow is his too, you can see it in his glistening eyes. He takes your hand and enveloped tightly, almost desperate.

"No. I will not let that happen. My faith will always sustain you." He gently caresses your forehead, and kisses you there, featherlike and gentle, as if you could break from all your agony by the daintiest pressure.

—

Morpheus stands at a crossroad he plucked from the dream of a man longing to see his former lover on the street where they first met. The crescent moon and the decaying fields of Wheat came from a farmer asleep at her porch on witching hour, her rake in her hand long forgotten as she dreamt of ploughing her fields. Content with the life she had wrought of her own.

Yet it was not enough, the fates would always require more. His surrender and acceptance was found in the last night of a starved circus Lion, dreaming of her faraway home, for tomorrow she would meet his sister, Death.

And the iron sword in his coat, a symbol of righteous indignation, the boon, was a little harder to find. But one pierced through a monstrous serpent. It was found on the hand of a man fighting in the name of Jesus Christ. He was accused of murder in his smalltown home.

All is set and complete.

He steels himself by recalling his treasured one, his heart and friend, his darling Naiad's face, then sends gentle wind for her in the Dreaming.

And now he invokes their name.

"I, Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, hereby summon the Fates."

A thunder strikes the air.

"The three who are one."

The wheat surrounding droops lower.

"The one who is three."

The black chiffon of theirs dances in the wind.

"The Hecateae."

The Fates stand before him, and he bows his head as customary.

"Morpheus, my, what a lovely surprise." the mother greets.

"Is it really such a surprise, sister-self?" the maiden taunts.

"It is only a matter of when." the crone scorns.

"Is this a social call, Dream king?"

"Unfortunately not, my ladies."

"Of course it’s not. We know what he wants." the crone spat.

"Think again Morpheus, there is no turning back. Are you sure about this, Dove?" the mother cautions kindly, ever attentive.

"I do." Morpheus says with stubborn conviction as he pulls the sword from his star–sewn coat, and the Fates unclench their jaws to swallow it whole.

"You will bind her to your fate just like that?" the maiden questions with her mischievous smile, she expects no answer from him.

"The Dream king has always been selfish." the crone sneers.

"three questions, one answer, love." the mother croons.

He clenches his fist, braces himself.

"My first question, the tool I need, where is it?"

"In the heart of Tartarus, where Chronos once fell." the maiden responds.

"My second question, will the deed be possible to enact?"

"Yes, but first you will toil for a long time, and after." the mother croons.

He nods, unflinching.

"My last question, the scale of the change. How much?"

The fates glare at him in a way they never did before. As if they too, revealing his answer, are passing the threshold that can’t be returned.

"An upheaval of the highest order. But nothing you and her could not overcome." For once, the crone's voice is faintly tinged with favor. If it meant something, he chose not to see it.

—

"Does my Lake still exist?" you question Morpheus as you sit beside him under the Willow, both of you leaning against the tree after you share ripe Peaches you cut in half. His black Chiton pools at the grass. Now watching the twilight sky of the Dreaming that stretches for hours.

"Fortunately, yes. Humans do not dare to venture in that part of the forest. A curse is said to surround it.

Your lips tugged upwards as you turned towards his profile. "Curse, or a nightmare?"

"Both, perhaps." a sly smile forms his lips.

A breeze and silence are blowing your way. You swallow thickly before asking the next question, one that has not been asked for millenia.

"And... and him?"

He straightens his body towards you.

"He’s wandering helplessly at the bottom of the sea. The sea belongs to humanity now, his power has abated. Most remember him only as a vessel for their own stories."

You don’t know what to say. Your hatred overshadows your relief that borne a spite for the olympian. You take joy in this news. And you hope that he will suffer more from something that is beyond his power to contain.

"He no longer has the ability to hurt you. I made sure of that." he claims with a conviction that leaves no room for any doubt to bloom within you.

"I really miss the waking world." was all you could say after quite some time, smothering the grass in your hand.

Morpheus gently takes your hand in his.

"Do you want to visit the Waking World?" he offers.

You missed a second.

"I don’t… I don't know if I can." It's been so long. Too long. The Dreaming has become a part of you so thoroughly. You become apprehensive at the prospect of leaving it, even for a temporary moment. Would the earth of the Waking World even feel the same in your hands? The air and its water?

Morpheus senses your agitation. He tips your chin to look upon him.

"I will come with you if you wish. Just think it over."

Your nod. Comforted by his bright, kind eyes. You watch the last traces of light in the horizon.

"Tomorrow I must return Corinthian back to the Dreaming. When I return–should you wish it–just tell me, I shall take you to the waking world. There is much I want you to see." he offers.

You are reminded once more of his kindness. Of his endless thoughtfulness for you. When you look upon his comely face, has it always been like this? Has your heart been filled and overflowing with so much love that has moved past the threshold of friendship? Since when did you have this urge to press your lips against his? Wondering what kind of divine blessing resides there.

You can’t help but caress his cheek and lean towards his lips, in which he captures yours so readily. As if he had been waiting for this moment for a long, arduous time.

Yes, you can see everything so clear then, the fog and the ache and every uncertainty clears away, the small pieces pulling together at the centre of the universe to create a larger picture, to make sense in your erratic fate. That you are merely borrowed parts that needed to be returned, from the drops of the rain, from the dirt of the earth, from the rays of the sky and the water in the lake. Here wherever he is, the centre of your universe, your future slowly and kindly enough to unravel before your eyes, returning home under his heart, returning home to him.

Morpheus pulls away reluctantly, and your eyes flutter open at the loss of his lips.

He caresses your jaw. You feel his perpetual love and devotion pulsing through his fingertips, tracing your skin. His eyes drink in your features fondly, consuming you whole. You desire nothing more than to be consumed over and over again.

"Do you want me to kill him?" Morpheus rasps.

The Dreaming turns still. Holding its breath in anticipation, awaiting your response.

Morpheus finds the answer in your eyes. Feel it in your lungs. And he nods in understanding as he kisses you once more.

#morpheus x reader #sandman x reader #dream x reader #the sandman #this one is the longest thig i #i've ever written adbodawbobfaafw

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daenystheedreamer · 5 months

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Valyrian Pantheon Headcanons

We know the names of 5 of the Valyrian gods and that's it. We don't know anything about the practices or even what those gods were patrons of. Here is my headcanon reconstruction of the pantheon ^_^

I think the Fourteen Flames (the volcanoes) are named for fourteen gods who constitute the main pantheon, similar to the 12 Greek Olympians or the 12 Roman Dei Consentes. There are many minor gods, usually personifications of concepts like seasons/emotions.

I imagine them like Egyptian gods, who are personified sometimes as humans, sometimes as animals, sometimes as animal-headed humanoids. I imagine the main fourteen as dragons, though idk how silly that would look lol.

I think they were also androgynous gods. Why? That's fun. That's so fun. Dragons are theorised to be hermaphroditic/intersex who can change their sex at will, but also are referred to as she-dragons if they are confirmed to lay clutches of eggs. So some of these gods are gods, and some are goddesses, despite being a-gender

Canonical Gods

BALERION: I believe Balerion's name is at least a little inspired by Ba'al, an ancient Semitic god who was very important to the religions of the region (Canaan, Babylon, etc) and features as a false god in the Hebrew bible. I think he's the King of the gods, like Zeus. God of war or fire or conquest or all of the above. Many ancient gods shifted their patronage and powers.

VHAGAR: Consort of Balerion, similar to Hera. Goddess of war/wisdom, similar to Athena. I think this fits a person like Visenya.

MERAXES: Perhaps a concubine of Balerion? Like how Zeus had thousands of lovers. Metis, Leto, Demeter, etcetera. Goddess of love, because Rhaenys seems like a woman who enjoyed love and life. Perhaps also a goddess of marriage?

SYRAX: It's gotta be someone Rhaenyra would think is cool. Perhaps a goddess of the sun/moon? Another war goddess? A queen? Actually, perhaps Syrax is the Hera of the pantheon, while Vhagar is not necessarily virginal like Athena but 'unmarried' so to speak. Goddess of beauty/wealth would also fit Rhaenyra. Goddess of the sun or moon would be fun in opposition to Sunfyre.

BOASH: called 'The Blind God' Mentioned as the god the Lorathi worship, whose religious followers (dissidents of the Valyrian Freehold) founded the city of Lorath. The name doesn't follow the typical Valyrian naming traditions, perhaps he was originally Boax/Boaxes? Would be fun. He's a very esoteric god connected to 'higher truths', the priests are eunuchs and the followers are vegetarian teetotalers and a main tenant is that everyone is equal. They also wear hair shirts which is an old Christian practice. I think he's a version of a Valyrian death god

the BLACK GOAT: Whose followers founded Qohor. I think he's a minor god, perhaps of magic or agriculture even, agricultural deities tend to be very important to common folk. However the goat imagery evokes Satan and Baphomet, so I think a villainous or death deity would be fun.

Non-canonical gods

A lot of the Targ dragons are given names with similar naming style to the canonical god dragons.

VERMITHOR & VERMAX: The naming conventions of Vermax and Vermithor intrigue me... I think one is the name of the God and one is a theophoric name in reference to the god. Perhaps a god of justice, law, order, etc, since they were the dragons of Jaehaerys and Jacaerys and I can see them picking that kind of God.

ARRAX: Lucerys names his dragon this, so I think a coming-of-age god or god of youths would be fun since he, yknow, got eated at 14.

CARAXES: This is Daemon's dragon so I'm saying Caraxes is the Dionysus/Hermes trickster god. Daemon picking the bacchanalian drunk sex god for his dragon is real to me.

MELEYS: Rhaenys TQWNW's dragon. Rhaenys gives off SUCH demeter vibes idk so agricultural god would be fun but idk i don't think she'd pick something like that. Perhaps its based off of Meraxes since Rhaenys is her namesake. Perhaps an oceanic or weather-based god.

MORGHUL: Morghul is simply the word for death in High Valyrian e.g. 'Valar Morghulis', but I like it as a euphemistic name for a God of death. Like his name is so tabboo that you just refer to him as death, or he's just named death in relation to afterlife, like how Hades refers to both the god and the underworld. I think perhaps Boash and the Black Goat are actually interpretations/aspects of the same deity, perhaps a death - morghul - god.

SHRYKOS: Sick name sorry just had to say that. He's Jaehaerys (son of Helaegon)'s dragon. got no clue what he could be a god of cos jaehaerys is a plot device character. I think he's just a cool Valyrian word, like Morghul, since Jaehaerys and Jaehaera are twins. Be fun if they picked life/death dichotomy for their dragons :p

TERRAX: ridden by the pre-doom character Jaenara Belaerys, who flew further south in Sothoryos than anyone else. God(dess) of travel/wisdom/conquest/oceans would be fun since she's a traveller who flew across oceans and sort of exemplifies the Valyrian conquest/adventurer spirit.

TESSARION: Okay the blue queen has to be a goddess of the ocean or the sky<3

TYRAXES: Joffrey's dragon :) I think a god of animals would be cute also cos he sounds like T-rex. I would name my dragon T-rex. Possibly a bastardisation of Terrax though...

URRAX: This is the name of a legendary/fairytale dragon from the story of Serwyn and Daeryssa from the Age of Heroes. By Daeryssa's naming convention and the fact she is mentioned only in AGOT, I think she was perhaps supposed to be a Targaryen before GRRM had established a full history. I think he's just a bastardisation of perhaps a Valyrian god like Arrax.

So my vision of the Valyrian pantheon includes Balerion, Vhagar, Meraxes, Syrax, Vermithor, Arrax, Caraxes, Terrax, Tessarion, which is 9 gods

plus Meleys and Tyraxes who I'm not sure if I want to be referring to above gods or just the name of a god entirely, which makes 11

Adding a death god (Boash, Black Goat, Moghul) makes 12,

which leaves another two unnamed for my personal idea of a Valyrian pantheon :)

#old valyria #valyrianscrolls #asoiaf

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gottaluvus · 2 years

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🧸; to infinity and beyond | gojo s.

─── summary; love. love is all he ever wanted, all he ever wished for. desire. he desired to be in the arms of his lover, his one and only. “please.. i’ll do anything, everything to make it so you’re happy and comfortable here, with me.” he desperately pledged, now with his knees on the floor with his mascara running down his face. “don’t leave me. not again, please, not again.” he’ll plead and beg as long as he needs to have [name]. and if begging doesn’t work, drugging and kidnapping will do.

— pairing; god!gojo + mortal!m!reader

⑅ cw; lower case, cheating, worshiper gojo, obsessed gojo [IN PT.2] non-con touching, implied sexual advances, paranoid reader

⑅ notes; boy did this change a lot from the first draft

⑅ chapters; II, III, IIII

it was a sunny, bright day in Michigan. even though a teeth chattering breeze flowed through the air and snow fell from the skies, a smile was still on the mortal’s face. a bright, pretty smile.

he hummed the tunes of ‘after the storm’ by kali uchis while the background noise of this afternoon’s supposed weather came from the radio.

“isn’t he just perfect?” the god of, ironically, marriage and wedlock spoke, his index finger trailing along his throne’s armrest. he peered through the cloud’s of Olympus, watching the mortal closely.

it’d been seven years, three months, twenty-four days, two hours, and two seconds since the start of their relationship, the start of his obsessive worshipping. wasn’t it supposed to be the other way around? no. at least gojo didn’t see it in such way. they’d been together for so long, and gojo only cheating thirty seven times! it's shorter than his record of their sixth year, thankfully.

“oh god, he’s doing it again.” nanami, the god of wealth and prosperity, mumbled, taking a sit of his morning nectar while reading Olympus Daily at the eighteen inch marble table. “is he alright? i’m getting worried!” yuji, the god of creativity, worriedly spoke, it came out louder than he intended it to.

“i’m fine itadori, i’m just taking care of the mortals well being since megumi is on leave for the time being.”

“oh! okay, thank you for telling me, mr. satoru!” even though gojo relentlessly told him not go call him ‘mr’, mainly because he’s still in his early thousands and isn’t old like nanami, yuji still insisted that since he was the youngest, he has to respect his elders. elders, he said! elders! gojo was considered to be over 1,379 years old in the mortals eyes! in Olympus, that's considered to be a young adult!

“i’m going to get some nectar.” gojo said, excusing himself from the throne/dining room, supposedly leaving to be in the comfort of his personal realm. fortunately, he has a decent poker face and was a [incredibly good] decent liar. where was he actually headed to? the ‘waking world’, as the Olympians called it. he just called it ‘the mortal realm’.

without a stop in his walk, he was in front of his fianceé’s company, aka the place where he had a job. why? well, because he’s the boss, darling!

“morning, mr. satoru!” is all he heard from his employers as he made his way to his lover’s desk, a cold mocha extreme, extra creme just how he liked it, with a donut with hazelnut glaze; [name]’s favorite. how did he know? stalking! i mean, watching. watching his lover closely, of course! with a lot of pep in his stride, he officially made his first stop of the day at [name]’s desk.

the smile on his face dropped almost immediately.

“where is he?!” he shouted, looking around the room to see who would dare to speak up and tell him the location of his beloved.

a girl. brunette, short, with freckles and long eyelashes stood up, her head immediately facing the ground. “he’s in your office, sir!” she exclaimed, still standing. it’d been a few seconds of thick tension, the room quiet as a mouse. well, that was until gojo had decided to say a quick ‘thank you’ and be on his merry way to visit his forever.

“[name], you should’ve at least told me you were coming to visit! i brought you breakfast by the way, here.” gojo handed the drink and plastic wrapped donut to the man, their hands touched only faintly. for a quick second or two. but it was more than enough for his heart to skip a beat.

“thank you, mr. satoru–”

“gojo. call me gojo.” his boss corrected.

“–gojo” he said corrected himself, “i should’ve made an appointment, i know, but–”

for the second time, gojo interrupted his employee. “you never need an appointment in order to see me, dear! you can visit anytime you please, darling.”

a faint grimace shown on [name]’s face from gojo’s pet name usage, but he needed to tell him the reason why he had came here to his office.

“—but, i came here to tell you that–”

he wants to marry him and live in Olympus by his side forever?! no wait, that’d be too soon. slow and steady wins the race. he’s.. in love! with him, no one else, hopefully. oh that’d be splendid to hear!

gojo gushed at the thoughts running through his mind as he stared holes into [name]’s head.

“.. resigning.” his letter of resignation was slid onto the sleek, oak tree desk.

RESIGNING? no. no, he couldn’t be. he can’t! he just–! he just.. can’t leave. not again. not after all he’s done! no after all the divine crimes he had committed and covered up for this fucking son of a bitch! my god, [name] was just playing with his heart. all these years. seven years. seven fucking years.

“sorry, must’ve hallucinated, what’d you say?”

[name] titled his head a little, like a puppy, at his bosses confusion. however, without hesitation, he repeated the words again. which successfully embedded them into his brain.

standing up, slamming his hands on the desk, fury with a mixture of mass desperation he shouted.

“NO! YOU CAN’T LEAVE!”

flinch. his lover.. flinched at him yelling. he’s never flinched before. not when talking with gojo, at least. oh dear, what has he done?

gojo quickly covered his mouth with his hands before lowering them to his sides. “i’m sorry, my love. i’m so sorry.” he started to tear up.

“i just, i can’t handle this world without you by my side. i just– i just can’t.” he sniffled in the middle of his sentence, chest rising a little. “gojo, i–” before [name] could speak his piece, gojo quickly interrupted. “what is it?! the pay?! your coworkers?! please! just tell me and stay! just.. just stay!” while saying all this he made his way and rounded the corner of his desk.

gojo took [name]’s hands in his own and cupped his face.

“please.. i’ll do anything, everything to make it so you’re happy and comfortable here, with me.” he desperately pledged, now with his knees on the floor with his mascara running down his face. “don’t leave me. not again, please, not again.”

[name] just sat there, stunned. not again? don’t leave him? he’ll do anything? he can’t handle the world without him by his side? what in the world is going on?!

“gojo, please, let me go..” [name] begged, trying to pull his hands away but ineffectively failing. gojo had no intentions of letting go, is what [name] had thought to be true. “i’ll..” he had to say something, anything, to be set free. in all honesty, he could scream and cry. he knows he can. but it would be useless, his pleads and begs would be ignored. everyone knew not to come into gojo’s office, unless you had a death wish. and unless you were [name], his beloved.

“i’ll stay.” [name] declared.

gojo immediately sat up, his tears still flowed and his sniffles still came, he looked better though. happier. brighter. prettier. he was ecstatic to hear such information. “my love, really? do you.. do you promise?”

gojo held out his pink like a child who’d just been promised the newest batch of toys for their birthday, awaiting for their pinkies to lock. it signifies that they’d be together. forever and ever. and ever. and ever.

hesitantly looking down at the man’s slim, pale pinky and locked it with his own. “i promise.” [name] swore, the look in his eyes was filled to the brim with desperation. not to be loved? no. to be let go.

what has he done?

his life is done. forever.

#x male reader #male reader #jujutsu gojo #jjk gojo #yandere gojo #yandere x male reader #yandere male x male reader #jjk x male reader #gojo x male reader #gojo satoru x male reader #yandere jjk x male reader

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takaraphoenix · 3 months

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Polympians Event!

Clarifying right off the gate: This does NOT mean exclusively Percy x poly Olympians, it means any god/Percy ship.

EDIT: I made a sideblog for the event: @polympians-event

EDIT 2: Here's the link to the AO3 collection!

What is the Polympians Event?

What I have in mind is an open event for any and all god/Percy ships. You ship Percy with only one god? Fill the prompts with only that ship! You sail many different god/Percy ships? Fill each prompt with a different ship, if you want! A full Percy/Olympians poly ship, OT3 or any poly constellation? Primordial gods, titans or non-Olympian gods? Any god(s)/Percy ship goes!

I've seen, in recent years, that god/Percy ships have gained quite some traction and I love that, so much. But while there are bigger ships that do have their own events, there are also the tiny rarepairs that don't get these chances, and even with the bigger ones, not everyone has the time/energy to participate in all their ships' events. So one blanket event, where the biggest of god/Percy ships and the rarest of god/Percy ships are equally welcome.

Are there rules to this?

Yes, but only the most basic. No ship bashing or harassment of other participants. The event is open to all god/Percy ships, which means people will participate with your NOTPs too. Don't like them? Don't read them. Instead, focus on the new content to your own ships! If you can't be a civil, normal person about this, then this event isn't for you.

Whether you want to write smut or not is entirely up to you, but you ought to tag appropriately!

What's the plan?

I chose the dates of the Lightning Thief quest for this event! Meaning it will run from May 28th (Percy waking up at CHB) to June 21st (Percy returning the Master Bolt and Helmet).

That length works out well for there to be 12 prompts, and you would have two days to post each prompt, plus an additional 13th prompt on the last day, to keep with the theme of the Olympians.

I'll get an AO3 collection started to which you can submit your entries on AO3 and, if there would be interest in it, I could start a sideblog specifically for this event to which entries (with proper ship tags so you can filter out your NOTPs) will be reblogged as a signal boost.

What are the prompts?

May 28th/29th: Roman

May 30th/31st: wedding/marriage

June 1st/2nd: The sea does not like to be restrained

June 3rd/4th: family focus

June 5th/6th: jealous/possessive [god]

June 7th/8th: role-swap AU (god!Percy/demigod![god])

June 9th/10th: Modern AU/no powers

June 11th/12th: metamorphosis/shapechange

June 13th/14th: godly gifts

June 15th/16th: Aphrodite ships it

June 17th/18th: Percy accepts godhood

June 19th/20th: yearning/pining

June 21st: Mythology

And because I'm bad at phrasing short prompts, here some explanations on what I had in mind with them, though you are of course free to interpret them in whatever manner you read them!

Roman: could mean the Roman aspect of the god, a Roman!Percy AU, or whatever else you want to make of it!

family focus: Are Percy and the god married with children of their own? Percy as step-parent to campers? The god meeting Sally, Paul and/or Tyson?

metamorphosis/shapechange: the gods have a track-record of turning people into animals or plants. Does this mean full animal, or catboy/other hybrid? Is this angst or fluff?

godly gifts: magic powers granted to Percy, or literal physical gifts to court, or something else?

Aphrodite ships it: Aphrodite as wing-woman, hyping and helping, can also very much include Aphrodite/Percy since she would be her own biggest shipper

Mythology: could be a mythological AU where Percy takes on a role from the past, or specific elements of a tale that recur, anything

Let me know if you're interested so I know I won't be hosting this just for myself!

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happyk44 · 7 months

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Thinking about Frank telling Percy that after the war he had to ask Pluto's permission to date Hazel. The war gave him some leeway and reason for not doing so, but after it ended, Pluto showed up after a few days and asked Frank why he had not requested permission.

Percy is kinda surprised Hazel doesn't look annoyed. Sure she's from the 40's but he thought permission to marry was the common request. Wasn't permission to date outdated, even by 40's standards?

And Hazel shakes her head and explains that historically a lot of children of Pluto/Hades would be courted by other demigods as a trick or a trap. If a child of the Underworld asked her out, permission would be implicitly granted. If a mortal asked her out, permission would be implicitly granted.

But a non-Chthonic demigod, especially an Olympian one and one of such high rank like Mars, requires permission so Pluto or one of her siblings, or even Proserpina, may assess that this person is someone safe. Even friends can betray you in the end, she notes and Percy hates every single word of what she's said.

Years later when he comes to terms with his feelings for Nico, he agonizes about it. He knows Nico likely won't give a shit if he doesn't have permission, and Hades won't do anything to Percy besides maybe yell at him if he refuses to ask because killing him would upset Nico, but if he's going to date Nico he'd like to be on somewhat good terms with Hades for once. Neutral terms, even.

Frank may have lucked out with near immediate acceptance - why, wouldn't he? Hazel was his world. He would rather die than hurt her - but Percy was a thorn in Hades' side from the moment they met, and he was well aware getting permission would be a long process to go through. Probably some more stupid quests to prove himself.

And he'd do them. He hate it but Nico was worth it.

But part of the reason of living at the Nome these days was to stop having to do quests. To stop have gods interfering in his life to the point of standing on the ledge of the apartment roof and staring down at black asphalt and garbage bags shoved into a corner.

But Nico is worth it. And Percy - well, he'd like to think he's safe for him now. That he won't hurt him accidentally anymore. That they're good. And he's pretty sure Nico likes him back. When he visits, he always gravitates towards him. Sits by him when he's finished training with Walt. Takes him outside with Carter or Zia so he doesn't develop agoraphobia, and holds his hand the whole time so he "can't run away". He strokes the back of Percy's hand every time they're standing still.

He blushed when that one lady thought they were a couple. Didn't correct her either. Didn't ask why Percy didn't correct her. Didn't let go of his hand.

He hasn't interacted with a Greek god in the last four years. At least not in person. His dad and step-mom send letters every few months through Hermes, who hands them off to Nico to deliver. They're nice letters. Hoping he's doing well. Updating him on how the castle repairs are doing. Telling him about quiet spots in the ocean he can visit at a certain time if wherever he is doesn't have access. He's used a couple of them, with Sadie lazing about on a shitty rowboat far above his head.

It's nice to just lay there on the sand. The first time he'd been worried it was a trap. That some sea god would whisk him away for some adventure that would leave him more torn than he already was. But Phillip had sat with him, wand at the ready, his penguins casually swimming above them and it had been fine. No sea gods, no sea monsters, no animals other than the penguins.

So Hades will be the first Greek god he sees in person. It reminds him too much of his first quest. While Ares has been the first, Hades had been the second and Percy had stood in front of him, feeling too small, everything at risk, and someone he loved dearly on the line. If he failed then, he might never get her back.

If he failed now, Hades might enforce ways to keep them apart. To make sure Percy couldn't ignore his lack of permission and date Nico anyway.

What terrified him the most about not earning permission was the implication he was still dangerous to other people, to Nico. He was sure he was safe now. He didn't freak out at the little kids. He didn't wake up screaming. His gut instinct wasn't to pull Riptide out at every single loud noise. He didn't dissociate as much as he used to. He wasn't on edge all the time. He trusted the other people around him.

He didn't want to die nearly as much as he used to.

But what if it meant nothing? Therapy, medication, avoiding the things that caused him stress - what if it wasn't enough? Yeah, he has attacked Nico once but that was years ago, Percy had been extremely stressed out, and Nico hadn't even cared about it when he apologized. It took him a few seconds to even remember what Percy was talking about.

Aside from that one instance, Percy liked to think he'd always been safe for Nico. But then he remembered Bianca and his gut churned viciously.

Still, Nico was worth it. Nico was something he wanted. He'd do it for him. He'd do a lot of things for him.

Grover stood with him at the entrance of the Underworld. Mrs. O'Leary was splayed out, catching the rays of sunlight and rumbling happily as Annabeth gave her a couple treats and belly rubs. She joined Percy's other side and pinched his arm.

He still loved her. He always would. Their relationship to each other wasn't something that could be killed off, even with the distance and Percy running away. Same with Grover. Either one of them could vanish for years at a time, and when they came back, it would be like no time passed at all. They were clicked into one another like a necklace with interlocking friendship charms.

"You got this," Grover said with a clap to Percy's back. His hand drew up to Percy's shoulder and squeeze. "And we'll be right there with you."

"Or just outside the door," Annabeth adds. She flashes her wrist, a shiny watch on it. "And I have a battering ram if needed."

Grover's face went pinched. "That's not helpful."

"It's realistic!" Annabeth argued. "When has he ever come out here peacefully?"

"He's only been here twice!" Grover said in a gritted whispered shout. "You need at least three times to indicate a pattern."

The two of them stepped back ever so slightly so they weren't shouting through Percy, and continued their bickering on what constituted a pattern indication and whether or not it was helpful or supportive to indicate a fight might break out.

The noise helped clear the sound of his own voice in his head. He zeroed in on Grover's words clashing against Annabeth's opposing side, and breathed steadily. The two of them knew him so well. Hopeful realism.

"Guys," he said as clear as he could.

They went silent immediately and drew back to his side. Grover looped his arm around Percy's, pulling him close in by the elbow. Annabeth squeezed his hand once before letting go.

"You ready?" she said.

He nodded and reached for the doorknob. "Let's do this."

#percico #percy jackson #annabeth chase #frazel #grover underwood #happy talks pjo #my writing #my fanfic

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divkazkdovikde · 4 months

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the ultimate guide

CAMP HALF-BLOOD CHRONICLES

percy jackson and the olympians

the demigod diaries: the diary of luke castellan (takes place 5 years before the lightning thief)

- the lightning thief

- the sea of monsters

- the titan’s curse

- the battle of the labyrinth

the demigod files: percy jackson and the stolen chariot

the demigod files: percy jackson and the bronze dragon

the demigod files: percy jackson and the sword of hades

- the last olympians

the demigod diaries: percy jackson and the staff of hermes

the heroes of olympus

the prophecy of the seven, the whole gang

- the lost hero

the demigod diaries: leo valdez and the quest for buford

- the son of neptune

- the mark of athena

the demigod diaries: son of magic (non-canonical, contradictory to the events in the house of hades and the blood of olympus)

- the house of hades

- the blood of olympus

percy jackson and the chalice of the gods

6th book of percy jackson and the olympians, taking place after the events of the blood of olympus, and before the trials of apollo

+ more to be announced, 7th book of pjo: the wrath of the tripple goddes, release date 24/9/2024

the trials of apollo

- the hidden oracle

- the dark prophecy

- the burning maze

- the tyrant’s tomb

- the tower of nero

supplementary works:

- camp half-blood confidential (background facts about CHB)

- camp jupiter justified (story of claudia)

the sun and the star

takes place after the events of the tower of nero, nico and will’s book

OTHER SERIES & CROSSOVERS

the kane chronicles

in the same universe as chb chronicles, takes place around the same time as heroes of the olympus

- the red pyramid

- the throne of fire

- the serpent’s shadow

supplementary works:

- survival guide

- brooklyn house magician’s manual

demigods and magicians

percy jackson and the kanes crossover, shortstories

- the son of sobek

- the staff of serapis

- the crown of ptolemy

magnus chase and the gods of asgard

in the same universe as chb chronicles and the kane chronicles, takes place around the same time as the trials of apollo

- the sword of summer

- the hammer of thor

- the ship of the dead

supplementary works:

- hotel valhalla: guide to the norse words

- 9 from the nine worlds

alright, that’s a wrap, i’m currently rereading the whole percy jackson, (halfway through the blood of olympus now, hehehe), and the only reason why i made this is because i’m a big nerd deep in my heart and needed to do this for my sake and my sake only. i also have insomnia, it’s like 2am rn. but you guys can use this guide too, i’m nice like that

#percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #the heroes of olympus #the kane chronicles #magnus chase #magnus chase and the gods of asgard #the trials of apollo #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson and the chalice of the gods #sun and the star #rick riordan #pjo series #pjo #pjo fandom #pjoverse #carter kane #sadie kane

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thewitchfarhan · 9 months

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[An update on this post]

I finished crafting my info sheets for, who I lovingly refer to as “τὸ τρεισκαίδεκα” - tò treiskaídeka - the thirteen (aka the 12 Olympians).

DM me for the non-watermarked versions or info sheet requests for other Gods/Deities 📥

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bravenewolympus--hq · 1 day

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𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒂, 𝒈𝒐𝒅𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒂 𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉.

𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒌𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒐𝒏 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒏.

ʙʀᴀᴠᴇ ɴᴇᴡ ᴏʟʏᴍᴘᴜꜱ : ᴀ 21+ ᴍᴏᴅᴇʀɴ ɢʀᴇᴇᴋ ᴍʏᴛʜᴏʟᴏɢʏ ᴅɪꜱᴄᴏʀᴅ ʀᴏʟᴇᴘʟᴀʏ. athens, new york: an island city, all trees and marble, glass and steel and highrises set against an ocean skyline. bustling and loud, crowded, but not without a bizarre sense that it must have sprung up overnight, somehow, when surely it must have always been here, no? on a clear night, you might even be able to see the lights of its more famous cousin, new york city, across the water…if you squint hard enough. it may not get as much attention as the shiny apple across the hudson, but those not so blinded by the lights must certainly have been coming here for years. is there something in the water here, too? no one leaves, not in any meaningful way anyway. feels like it has a special way of pulling you back in, if you try. they, that is anyone who was anyone or paid even an iota of attention to the evening news,, called him the minotaur. the media does love a catchy nom de guerre, doesn’t it? sells newspapers like hotcakes in the morning. ambrosia, whether it’s the latest designer drug trend or the latest pestilence sweeping the streets of athens, just depends on how tightly you clutch your pearls on sundays. must infuriate the police, don’t it? that without fail, by the time they arrive to any crime scene at all, all that’s left is the heap of little cream-coloured business cards, the red lines of a labyrinthine logo more taunting than they are helpful. between an epidemic of pearlescent powder, neatly parceled out in small plastic baggies, a tide of crimson bull graffiti, casinos and bordellos and the nightlife (oh my!), it’s no small wonder they call this an atlantic sin city. it’s a vice eat dog world, ain’t it? and anyone who calls athens home is just living in it. powerless, with no memory of their past lives, what's a god gotta do to survive?

#city rp #crime rp #mature rp #fantasy rp #discord rp #taken skeleton #taken nonbinary skeleton #taken non binary skeleton #taken nb skeleton #taken non binary #taken nonbinary #taken nb #nb skeleton #nonbinary skeleton #non binary skeleton #non olympian gods #makaria

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aroaceleovaldez · 1 year

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Tumblr kept breaking when I tried to reply to the ask about this since the post is too long, so answering this here finally:

A non-comprehensive list of misc things I’d change in HoO, since apparently people wanted me to elaborate further (Re: [This post]). Semi-off the top of my head since I don’t feel like re-reading all of HoO with notations right now. Also this will be followed up by a Things I Would Change About TOA post as well at some point, since that was also requested and kept breaking, but my brain is exhausted from getting this post set up so that will wait. I will link it [here] when I complete it.

Going under a read-more cause it’s very long. Literally Tumblr crashed like three times while I was trying to answer the original ask:

As said before (and what is a given):

1. Goes without saying - fix all the distasteful offensive character descriptions/traits. Similarly, fix the whole "these characters inexplicably look down upon their cultures" cause that's stupid and it's really annoying every time one of the Argo 2 crew brings up something about their cultures only to immediately go "but THAT'S SILLY and WEIRD."

2. Remove Calypso from the active plot, rather than the current canon retconning that doesn’t work saying that she was never actually released from Ogygia like she was supposed to be. There's no excuse for why she wasn't, unless it's supposed to be the gods sent Leo to release her to fulfill that promise, but that's not really implied to be the case at all. There's no excuse for the Olympians to just go back on their promise, since Hephaestus is established to visit Calypso regularly and basically is her only friend. It isn’t the type of thing he’d let be overlooked given all the characterization we know about Hephaestus, and given they are explicitly friends it can’t be that Olympus just “forgot” either. Also Calypso doesn't actually add anything to the plot of HoO or TOA besides serving as a love interest for Leo (not even a motive, just a love interest that "fixes him,” because he already has motive in saving Jason from being the hero of the prophecy and helping save the Argo 2 crew/camp/etc from Gaea etc etc. Leo's romance arc completely derails the established depressive spiral/destructive character arc that's been set up for him and it basically ruins Leo's entire character. He's a tragic character! Let him be tragic until he's done being tragic and then the end of BoO and TOA can be him starting his recovery arc! (I have some thoughts for how Calypso could work removed from HoO but an active character in TOA but that’ll be for the TOA post.)

If Leo still ends up on Ogygia, then have it be clear that Calypso's already left and the island is abandoned (which imo is WAY more narratively compelling for readers of the first series, because you already know the context of the island, but for readers who don't have that context it leads to this being an interesting mystery - who was Calypso? What was this island and why do all the signs/notes left by her imply she wasn't always alone but usually was and was desperate to leave?) and Leo has to collect the scraps left behind to build an escape for himself while he goes through a fun identity crisis. At some point maybe Hephaestus shows up and Leo gets an interaction with his dad that probably does not help his identity crisis and then he goes back to the Argo 2 to have a further identity crisis about how the rest of the crew got along in his absence (a good identity crisis or a bad identity crisis? depends on how they did without him! you decide! I personally like "they managed okay" and Leo feels Really Horrible About That Cause It Feels To Him Like They Don't Need Him. I like Leo's tragic arc, okay? It's compelling.) Iirc Leo’s also the only member of the Seven who doesn’t get to have some kind of direct conversation with their godly parent, at least in-person, so yknow. It’d be nice to have. Also if you want Aro/ace Leo Valdez this is the perfect spot to put it while he's having his identity crisis on Kiss Kiss Fall In Love Island, or when he gets back.

3. Jason's stab wound in BoO is not healed by the Power Of Friendship, and instead they use the Physician's Cure for that so it doesn't feel like they're literally deus ex machina-ing their way to cheating death like 3 times in the same book. It makes more sense to use Potion Of Don't Die on Wound Of Excruciatingly Painfully Slowly Killing You instead of Whoops You're Already Dead, Just Get Better. Ctrl+Z That Real Quick.

Given they already used the Physician’s Cure on Jason, Leo doesn’t die/get revived at the end of BoO. Instead he just almost dies, probably lands in CHB’s woods somewhere, and is found and patched up with the series ending on him being on the mend and starting on the path to healing and getting help for his Numerous Issues that he was putting off for The Entire Series. Which parallels nicely to Nico basically having the same thing (overexerting his powers to near death, ends series getting medical treatment/being on the mend and the indication that he’s moving on to a happier period of his life). Again, grand happy ending rather than aggravating fake-out.

Further notes:

- Heavily tweak Ella's character cause I get what Rick was going for, but the execution is… not awesome! Please, there's already so much ableism in HoO just. hmm. We can do better.

- Jason and Piper break up in HoO, probably around MoA when they start seeing Percy and Annabeth interacting and after they’ve had time to hang out with each other and realize their arranged relationship is Kind Of Fucked Up, Actually. (Probably something something them having gotten to spend time actually getting to know each other between TLH and MOA while they’re both at camp.) They have no problems with each other specifically and do genuinely like each other, but it just gets really awkward given all the memory manipulation and being set up as a "picture perfect couple" - emphasizing stuff like them both being children of really famous movie stars in their universe, or Jason as a son of Jupiter/Jove (an "all-father" type god) [and Juno - mother figure goddess and goddess of marriage]/"son of Rome" and Piper as a daughter of Aphrodite (goddess of love, also Aphrodite/Venus indirectly is associated as a sort of "mother of Rome" due to Aeneas). They just feel like they have too many expectations being put on their relationship and even though they do both like each other it feels too forced for them, but they’re comfortable staying just friends. This just gives way more opportunity for low-stakes character conflict among the Argo II crew outside of Monster Of The Week Chapter so things don’t feel unreasonably busy and chaotic and we actually get some consistent development. Just a nice mini-arc to follow in the downtime. Also while we’re here, more directly establish Piper’s bisexuality earlier on. If she’s already having an arc where she’s contemplating her romantic life, throw in a couple of nods to like “Piper thinking about her old childhood crush on Shel, the kid of a family friend she’d see when her and her dad visited Oklahoma” or something. Literally anything just to establish some kind of set-up to her getting a girlfriend later. Just for consistency’s sake.

- Bunkernine has a very good post about wishing the Argo II didn't have the magic plates from CHB, which I agree with in concept. Like I was just saying, MoA through BoO lacks a lot of little moments where we get to really focus in on the characters, probably in part because Rick was struggling to juggle so many parties given this was his first foray into writing a major cast that size. We can definitely cut out a lot of the random unnecessary fights and dramatic moments that don't really do anything for the plot and instead replace them with little moments of casual life on the Argo II - the scenes like those that do exist in HoO are some of HoO's most memorable moments to me! And they'd help a lot with how the characters never felt fully and properly fleshed-out. Let them exist as a cohesive group without two-to-three of them being absent at any given time! I don't think we necessarily have to remove the magic plates entirely because they do solve a fundamental problem ("where are these kids getting food?") but like, there is nothing stopping them from still cooking and just using the plates to get ingredients! Let these kids bake or something! Even just for fun! Though also I have personal headcanons about the Argo II crew's cooking skills and I really like the concept of like, during HoH or something at like 3am everybody hears something and they all suspiciously shuffle into the mess hall. And it’s just half-dead Nico standing there in his PJs making food for himself because Dammit They're IN VENICE and he’s FROM VENICE and they DON’T HAVE TIME TO STOP AT HIS OLD FAVORITE RESTAURANTS THAT MAY OR MAY NOT STILL EXIST and he Hasn't Had A Proper Meal In Weeks so By The Gods He Will Make His Mom's Old Recipes At 3am before he keels over from this quest. He just stares at everybody and goes "What are you all looking at. go away." and the rest of the crew just shuffles away awkwardly and leaves him to it. (Is Nico’s 3am meal actually good? Who knows. It is left a mystery.)

- Tweak the god characterizations. Remove the "gods splitting" thing and maybe play more with different aspects of gods/verisons of gods across history/city-states/etc presenting themselves instead. The Roman gods are not wholly equivilent to the Greek gods and it's actually really interesting from a historical perspective, and I think there's a lot you could do with that but instead it gets flatted in HoO which is sad to me. Just generally though, with the god characterizations, like. [uncomfortable pagan noises]. Which is almost impressive because it is difficult to write the Greco-Roman pantheons poorly since a good portion of them are basically just very complicated metaphors turned into personifications and characters. So they work fine for narrative purposes when applied accordingly, and yet! and yet!! Rick managed it! He managed to really bungle it in HoO and TOA. Because instead of leaning into the aspects of metaphors and dynamic characters he just fell into 2D tropes, gimmicks, and stereotypes. Off the top of my head the only deities written Okay in HoO is like. Hades/Pluto and Thanatos. (even Chiron in TOA is extremely lackluster, it's sad.) In the first series it ranges from “okay” to “actually really interesting” so it’s sad to see that drop-off and I would like it to be fixed.

Some potential examples for this: Play with the historical ties combo of like, Athena, Minerva, Enyo, Bellona, and etc! Annabeth and Reyna parallels! if the first 2 books are about the trios, let MoA be about Annabeth and Reyna and both their connections to Athena(/Bellona). Let Reyna be a second half in the Athena prophecy! It'd be cool and fit with her thematically and would set-up the whole Getting-Blessed-By-Athena thing later in BoO and make that scene feel so much cooler!

- Also retcon the whole "Hestia appears as an 8 year old for no reason" thing. And maybe also Artemis only appearing as a teen, because while Artemis has a mythological excuse, Hestia doesn't, so it just feels weird and at worst comes off as a little aphobic (depicting a character who explicitly is uninterested in relationships/romantic love as a child despite them being an immortal god with no basis for appearing as a child or even being comparatively young to other gods) with how it relates to aphobic tropes about disinterest in romance being "childish".

- Remove the "no children of Minerva" thing. Also maybe emphasize the aro/ace vibes there cause Athena being implied to be the only ace character in the entire series who a.) isn't literally a child/teen nor appears as one, and/or b.) hasn't had an unfortunate relationship that makes them disinterested in romance, but also at the same time being the only one out of herself/Hestia/Artemis to have relationships of some sort (having kids, implied to possibly be romantic but unclear) issss bad! actually! Bad tropes, don't like that. (Again aphobic tropes of disinterest in romance being “childish” and something that can be grown out of, or a result of trauma. Also it feels weird that the only a-spec characters in the series are all women. Can we have a male a-spec character please.) Just let Athena be aro/ace and vibing and occasionally having brain children cause she can do what she wants and everyone is aware of this and chill with it (And being a-spec doesn’t mean she’d be disinterested in having kids). Also maybe make her feel less cold cause "a-spec character is cold and loveless" is also an aphobic trope that PJO!Athena falls into, actually.

- Speaking of aphobic tropes, fix the Hunters! Please. Please just redo the Hunters of Artemis entirely. Holy cow. I wrote up an entire alternate oath/rules set for the Hunt because it's just so weird and poorly done. There were male Hunters of Artemis in Greek Mythology! Multiple! And most of them were chill! The "swearing off all romance" thing is also questionable, because depending on what versions of myths you’re looking at it’s potentially implied the Hunters had romantic relationships among themselves. And in Greek Mythology all the Hunters were definitely not all pre-teens. And it feels especially bad that the only adult Hunters we ever see are explicitly ex-Hunters who are heavily implied to be not ace and definitely aren't aro and are also implied to have "grown out of" being disinterested in romance. (That gagging noise you hear is me being sick of how many aphobic tropes the Hunters are juggling).

The version of the Hunters i have written up is, and I quote (from my notes): "Hunters can be any age, species, and gender identity (so long as they are comfortable enough being occasionally referred to as “Huntresses,” “Sisters,” “Maidens,” and etc). Relationships between Hunters are allowed so long as it will not endanger/distract from the Hunt or endanger any other Huntresses. Having a child is not allowed within the Hunt and any Huntresses who wish to do so must leave (purely because having a pregnant person/young child on the Hunt is dangerous, and safety is the number one priority - especially as Artemis is a protector of youth and goddess of childbirth. Once they turn like, 12 they can join, that’s fine. Everyone knows middle schoolers are the optimal combination of bloodthirstiness and ability to wield a weapon)." Also, just as like, a side-thing, I wanna see a clear-sighted mortal Huntress, because we're told thats a thing but we never see them. Closest we get is like ancient semi-immortals and Technical Nymphs, or other Huntresses who are of unspecified mortal/demigod status.

- Similar deal - fix the Amazons. they're… better but still a little wonky.

- Some slight tweaks to the Cupid Scene - Nico still has a confrontation with Cupid cause that is a very compelling scene that works well for Nico's character and informs a lot about him (and serves a purpose in a very meta way - not so much for the plot but reflecting something the first series did occasionally which was a kind of showing an example of a situation, usually a negative situation that either mirrors or directly references a type of situation a kid may find themself in, and explains and shows sympathy for the character being hurt in that situation. Which is notable because the demographic for the series is young middle schoolers and particularly neurodivergent kids, who are probably approaching a lot of new social situations or may struggle with empathy. It acts as an introduction to “unfortunately this is a bad thing that happens sometimes, and it hurts people, which is why you should be nice to this kid. Look at beloved character. Here’s an elaboration on why they’re hurt so you can understand.” So for the purposes of that, the scene of Nico getting outed would likely remain, but it would still keep the very overt “WOW THIS SUCKS, THIS IS A BAD SITUATION.” stuff) Most of the tweaks are just slight adjustments to minor prelude dialogue and/or setting, like. Jason does not forget that being gay is a thing for a second. And etc. But Nico having a very literal metaphorical conflict about grappling with how he views the concept of love by LITERALLY GETTING KICKED AROUND BY THE GOD OF LOVE is actually kinda badass from a narrative analysis perspective. This is exactly what i meant in the previous bullet points about the gods in a lot of myths and classical stories playing the roles of personifications of metaphors and that being used well. Admittedly I'm 50/50 on tweaking Cupid's general attitude in the scene itself, because a more hostile Cupid lends itself better to the meta use of the scene as described before but a more sympathetic-to-Nico Cupid who is nonetheless still kicking the shit out of him is interesting from a metaphor standpoint (something something Nico overcoming internalized homophobia but in the very literal form of it’s the god that literally presides over protecting gay love [yes that is an actual thing Eros/Cupid is the god of] beating him up).

- Remove Reyna's “prophecy” entirely. It's stupid and pointless and doesn’t make sense with her character at all. Just say she's ace. There is not a single scene in any of the series that ever indicates that Reyna believes that she can only be happy if she’s in a relationship and that’s some kind of internal struggle she needs to overcome. The closest we ever get is Reyna being upset that her best friend disappeared and when he returns she finds out he had forgotten about her completely. Which does not apply to the “prophecy” at all. We just don’t need it.

- Absence of "a character" can work! Jason's lack of personality and backstory can work but it works best if it's absence is felt and properly explored. This works best if we get more information about Camp Jupiter from SoN and from the other Roman characters, especially Reyna (and maybe even Nico referencing his trips there!) because that inherently informs us about what Jason's life was like there. Have other characters note things about Jason and highlight the fact that this is absent from Jason's own POV! He's lost that part of his life! It was taken from him! That's such an interesting dynamic to have and explore! But we don't get any of that!

Side-note: Part of the problem with Jason's amnesia is that it feels so awkward especially compared to Percy's amnesia because we already know what Percy can't remember. We have the context that informs his character, even though he can't remember it, so that absence is felt and it feels really compelling! Also, Percy is unfamiliar with Camp Jupiter, and we're unfamiliar with Camp Jupiter, so it feels new and interesting (even though we don't actually get much about it so we never actually form any real attachment to it and that's a problem later on in every subsequent scene when we're supposed to care about what happens to Camp Jupiter but we. don't). The reason it doesn't work for Jason is because we don't know what's absent and we already know CHB. Jason also already knows about demigods and stuff, so if you're a new reader starting at HoO it just doesn't work. Because Jason already knows everything and we're being led from his POV primarily for that portion of TLH, and even Piper and Leo's backstories both heavily include being pushed around by Gaea/and or Hera/Juno, so if you aren't familiar with the universe you're just being hurried along and it ends up feeling weak. At least with Percy even if you don't know the contexts of his backstory, we can feel the implications of other characters referencing things about him extremely often, so you feel the weight of his memories being gone, and he doesn't know about the roman gods and you, the reader, aren't expected to know much if anything about it either. We don’t get the full demigod debriefing (but that's also the second book) but we at least get a Camp Jupiter debriefing. The first two books are a bit messy in those specific regards with setting up the camps for the series, and we don’t really see the camps much for the rest of HoO (except for CHB, of course).

This is personally why I stand by that if we ever get a roman series it should be a three-part series from Reyna's POV, because leading with Jason is basically like trying to lead PJatO with Annabeth - a demigod raised in camp and surrounded by the knowledge of this stuff their entire life. It doesn't work as a character who's acting as an introduction to this world for the reader. There's no real clean way to work that out for HoO unfortunately, since literally all our protagonists are given established pasts involving knowledge of Greco-Roman mythology being real and half of them are either already at camp or have been to a different camp. I'd say best solution would probably actually be leading from Piper for TLH and tweak her character set-up slightly in that she Does Not Know What's Going On At All re: Gaea and the Giants. She just knows Something Happened To Her Dad and she's the POV we follow into TLH, because that mirrors Percy in beginning of TLT well (with Sally being kidnapped)! It's a fun call-back for the old readers and a good lead-in for the new readers.

- Fix Nico backstory inconsistencies caused by Rick almost making his birthday in March and confusing himself over it. He's 12 in TLO, 13 in HoO. He was born January 28th, 1929, and got put in the Lotus Hotel and Casino in 1939 (If you wanna be cute, we can specifically say May 1st, 1939, to reference the musical). Hazel is one month older than him chronologically and one year older than him post-revival. Something something also smooth out the inconsistencies about Nico being raised in Italy and how Maria met Hades and stuff. Fill in the rest as you will.

- I do stand by that the entire PJO timeline is not one-to-one with the real world. That's always been a thing with the series. We're basically condensing everything from ~1998 to ~2020 into an 18 year timeline. We don't need to be exact with things. Don't get too bogged down with it.

- Make the whole "injuries caused by celestial bronze/imperial gold for demigods makes their souls self-destruct" thing specifically relating to cursed weapons/materials or feature some more volatile abomination combo weapons like Backbiter (with Backbiter being described as unstable due to being both celestial bronze and mortal steel). (Ex.: the spear used to stab Jason in BoO is just cursed, and maybe Octavian's catapult plan is a "well i put a bunch of mortal steel and imperial gold in a pot and melted them together a bit and now it really wants to explode so im gonna just chuck the entire thing and hope it kills everyone lots and lots <3" which is tbh significantly more dastardly and fucked-up, which makes Octavian a bit more compelling). Having it just be a plain trait of celestial bronze/imperial gold doesn’t make any sense and is only referenced like twice in HoO and never again in basically the entire three series. Again: consistency.

- Make a more prominent reference to the whole "btw there are retired adult Romans just living wherever but they're legally required to help any campers who request aid" thing, cause you could totally do something really fun and cool with that but idk what.

- PICK A THEME! First series theme was family! Second series theme is….. we don’t know! It felt like maybe a theme was intended at some point but we lost it. Forging a new life for one’s self/choosing your own path/etc could be a good theme, or something similar. or found family. or both. We’ve got a bunch of characters absolutely ripe for “I didn’t think i’d get this far and now I have to like, actually consider what i want to do in life. huh” arcs! (Frank! Leo! Hazel! Jason! Percy! Nico!) Do something with that!

- Lean more into the characters having aspects inspired by myths, or legends being mirrored in plot points: 7 against Thebes, the Argonauts, etc etc etc. The first series leaning into it heavily worked really well! More of that! HoO and TOA suffer a lot from lack of mythological basis to lean their plots on, despite there being plenty to work from. It instead just kind of messily mashes random misc myths (haha, alliteration) together into a very incoherent plot. Annabeth is known to be explicitly based off Atalanta, Percy is mostly based off Perseus and Theseus, Leo has loose connections based off of Demophon of Eleusis and possibly also his brother Triptolemus, etc etc. There’s stuff to work with! Poke around at the mythological figures of the original Argo and maybe match them up a bit (though most of the Argonaut myths were used in Sea of Monsters, so focus more on the figures/archetypes rather than just exact myths of what they did. For more plot-things, maybe consider Seven Against Thebes, though admittedly the plot of that is just Kinda Depressing.)

- Slightly related to that - lean into Piper presumably mirroring Orpheus! Or even if she isn’t supposed to, let her do that, because it fits with her thematically SUPER well. Her charmspeak is OP and that needs to be appreciated. In canon she brings Jason back from the brink of death in TLH and just straight up gives Festus a soul/free will/sentience. Let her go Orpheus-mode on everybody. You can even tie that in with the half-hearted snake theme that Rick tried to throw in there that didn’t work at all. We can make this work, just lean into it. It’ll be fun.

- Remove scene of Nico confessing to Percy at end of BoO. it’s just. random and feels sudden and OOC. Give Nico time. You could maybe replace it by having him come out to Reyna on his own terms while they’re on their quest discussing their adventures thus far and them having a very sweet little emotional moment rather than it being a weird out-of-place afterthought comical scene.

- Remove Bob and Damacus. They’re just half-literal dues ex machinas for Percabeth in Tartarus that don’t make sense. It feels extremely cheap and doesn’t fit with the established mythos of either figure (and Bob feels extra awkward without the context of knowing Sword of Hades). If they do run into a figure who helps them out in Tartarus, Arke could possibly be a good option - especially since in SoN Percy meets Iris. There’s a lot potentially you could do there with Percy mistaking her for her twin and stuff like that. If we want a figure to more-so take the role that Bob fills (Nico encouraging an immortal to be sympathetic to Percy and thus indirectly helping him later) that role could be filled by Nyx instead of making her a minor antagonist - imply Nico encountered Nyx in Tartarus or something and she took pity on him as someone who also understands the dark, and he told her about Percy and so Nyx is willing to help Percabeth escape. Plus imagine how COOL a Nyx & her children vs Tartarus/Titans/Giants fight would be. That’d be a significantly more memorable scene than the Tartarus fight scenes we did get. (“Why would Nyx help though?” One of Nyx’s kids is LITERALLY a goddess of friendship [Philotes], we have excuses.)

- On a similar note, this is more of a TSATS thing, but for goodness’ sake STOP THROWING CHARACTERS INTO TARTARUS. You’re overusing it! It only works when we use it sparingly! In fact, just in general Tartarus works better the less we see of it! Nico going through Tartarus once in SoN-MoA, yes, that works! Especially since we have almost no idea what happened to him down there, just that it was Terrifying and Horrible and he Barely Survived. Not going into much detail means we get more out of it. The only exception to that really was when Percy realized that Nico saw Tartarus as it truly was the entire time, because that’s one hell (ha) of a punch to the gut in terms of added information! Percabeth falling into Tartarus in MoA? Eh, fine, sure, because we’ve established that Nico (who is implied to be more resilient to that environment on virtue of being a child of Hades) talked about his experiences down there so they know what to expect and how to survive. Though it does kind of just feel like Rick went “Oh wait hey I can use this to make angst!” and then overused the hell out of it. It feels way weaker in general in HoH because of how much detail we get, because Tartarus has been built up so much until that point that literally anything we get will feel lackluster in comparison, especially with how it kind of feels like Percabeth just. breezed through it with little more difficulty than they’d usually face on their quests. Solangelo jumping into Tartarus in TSATS is honestly just a blatant “Oh boy we can make Solangelo into Percabeth 2!” and it doesn’t work at all because NICO HAS ALREADY BEEN TO TARTARUS.

The only way you could make Nico going into Tartarus two times work is if he fell into Tartarus a second time to replace Percabeth falling down there. Because we’ve established he knows what it’s like down there, he survived it once, and he is actively sparing someone else he cares about from suffering his same fate. And then he can return once again even closer to death and A Little Fucked Up and it turns into a rule of threes where we know “Oh, Nico can’t go back to Tartarus again because if he does he’ll Lose Himself Completely” which is way more interesting than romance angst for the sake of romance angst. Especially since again, we don’t see it, it’s all only implied. Also it then also turns Tartarus into even more of a “Nico is probably the only demigod who could ever even hope to survive Tartarus” which keeps Tartarus as an ominous thing. Percabeth falling into Tartarus lessens that by a lot because it implies that it doesn’t matter that Nico is a child of Hades; that had absolutely no bearing on his ability to survive down there. TL;DR: Stop throwing characters into Tartarus. Either throw Nico in twice in a row and no Percabeth or Nico and Percabeth once only and never touch it again.

- More heavily set up Percy’s emotions/mood/etc being influenced by water around him. If we keep most of Percabeth in Tartaurs, then this would really make the Achlys scene pack a bigger punch. Up until HoH everything is “oh how quirky” but the minute Percy’s surrounded by the rivers of the underworld and the acid/poision you get hit with the “oh shit” realization that Percy Is About To Get SCARY.

- Maybe have Annabeth keep her blindness from Tartarus, or trade Jason having glasses to her having glasses as a result of that, since vision is actually an aspect of Athena so it kind of fits her more, thematically-speaking.

- Change the judo flip percabeth scene in MoA to Annabeth picking Percy up and spinning him around in a hug/swinging him into a dip cause that’s cuter, makes more sense given Percy’s PTSD, and still highlights Annabeth being very strong and showing off in front of the Romans while they’re still being lovey-dovey.

But also, related to that, you could potentially make a sub-arc for Percabeth throughout HoO (so that they actually have like. some type of character development that fits them rather than them feeling stagnant the entire time) about Annabeth learning she doesn’t know as much about Percy as she thought (learning about Gabe [since as far as we know she actually doesn't know much if anything about that!], seeing his behavior change with different types of water, etc) kicked off by the judo flip scene, and possibly vice versa (Percy learning more about Annabeth’s time spent traveling with Thalia and Luke, growing up at CHB, her relationship with Athena and other campers at CHB, etc) so they gain a deeper understanding of one another. If Percy keeps his curse of Achilles, that could also factor in (contrasting Percy’s “perfect” image [relationship, near-immortality] against Annabeth realizing she doesn’t know as much about Percy as she thought [could also parallel that dynamic to Jaspiper, which opens opportunities for Annabeth/Piper and Jason/Percy bonding] [Or Annabeth/Jason and Piper/Percy bonding! I want more Annabeth/Jason and Piper/Percy parallels so bad. They’re almost there but we never get them. Please.]/ the Argo II crew learning about Percy’s past) with Percy being more prone to seek out conflict or solve problems with violence due to the Curse of Achilles and eventually recognizing that [possibly after Tartarus] and it scaring him just as much as it frightens Annabeth. Maybe at that point Percy tries to make some sort of deal to rid himself of the curse.)

- Maybe also explicitly parallel Percy getting the curse of Achilles with Nico’s help to Poseidon giving his lover Caeneus iron skin. There’s no really smooth way to do it, but maybe even just a during Nico’s pov him going “I heard about this myth once and got an idea. It didn’t work.” Just for that added through-line of connecting the series and further establishing “yeah, no, Nico’s been gay this whole time. this isn’t a new thing. we aren’t pulling this from thin air.”

- Give Piper a different weapon than the knife from the beginning cause she stops using it eventually anyways. Also just... no cornucopia. That part is just stupid and there’s no point for it. If we have to keep it as a plot object, give it to someone else - Nico could work because then there’s actually at least a valid relation there regarding his godly parent (yes, Pluto sometimes has cornucopia associations). Also Nico having a cornucopia would be kinda funny in a subversion of expectations thing. Maybe even have Nico go on a little exposition-y rant complaining about Hades/Pluto versus Plutus (the Greek god of plenty/wealth, later merged with Pluto).

- Similarly, either remove Diocletian’s scepter (if we have multiple characters who can boss around skeletons, why do we need an entire separate extra object whose sole purpose is to let them boss around skeletons?) or let Nico keep it but it loses its abilities, so it’s literally just “well now he has a cool bashing stick for bashing things.” Or let him use it as a cane to highlight him being disabled!

- As I slightly touched upon in a previous bullet point, give Piper more connections to her dad’s community in Oklahoma - where’s all her family friends? Tristan is a major pop culture figure in the Riordanverse, so it’d make sense that people from the community he grew up in would like. know him? But all we ever hear about is Piper’s Grandpa Tom. Even though apparently Piper is already good enough friends with Shel presumably before Piper moves to Oklahoma that the two start dating soon afterwards. Heck, again, have Piper reference Shel specifically. Just at any point. For any reason. Just to establish that she knows people her own age that exist outside of CHB.

Similarly, flesh out the background Romans in Camp Jupiter more in SoN and possibly also BoO, particularly the ones Jason references by name but we never see anything of, besides at most maybe more background references. Highlight them either through the SoN trio interacting with more characters while at camp (and we’re left to glean specific details of Jason’s past through others, which would make Jason more compelling and how these details are absent from himself but present to those around him, playing into his memory loss more) and possibly also through Reyna (and maybe Nico)’s POV(s) in BoO. (And maybe if we get a Reyna POV in MoA, then there as well).

- Let Reyna use magic! We establish that she studied under Circe and then never see anything come of that other than referencing her Tragic Backstory™. It could be a fun point for Reyna and Hazel to bond over, even!

- Remove the random “Hunters of Artemis death fodder” scene with Orion in BoO. There’s no reason for that. It’s just kinda dumb and feels bad given it’s basically just “We’re gonna kill a bunch of nondescript allegedly a-spec coded characters now for no reason. <3” like ???. That served no purpose. It just felt weird.

- Also just as a like, logistics thing - change the route Team Statue takes in BoO from the huge jump over the Atlantic into Peurto Rico into them traveling up into like the UK, then over to Iceland and Greenland and then Canada and down the east coast rather than the huge jump and up the east coast. The smaller jumps make more sense given the entire POINT of their quest taking as long as it does is that Nico can’t make extremely large shadow-travel jumps at that time. Plus if they’re traveling south then they could pass through Maine and we could maybe cameo Nico’s old school and that’d be fun. The pit-stop in Puerto Rico doesn’t really give us much that we couldn’t have just gotten from Reyna explaining it anyways. If they pause in Maine that can be where Nico and Reyna have a heart-to-heart about their tragic backstories and past experiences with horrible ghosts that they had to exorcise.

- If Team Statue travels a northern route we can make jokes about Nico learning specifically 1930s British English before he moved to America. The gang goes to London and Coach proceeds to incessantly make fun of Nico for not only using British slang, but using OUTDATED British slang (which is made weirder given he doesn’t have a British accent).

- Also extremely tiny detail but a specific acknowledgement that Piper was helping out Nico once they got back to the ship when Nico’s getting rescued from the jar. Since Piper just kind of drags him off-screen. Just any kind of follow-up to that. Like Nico doing his classic “You were vaguely nice to me. I would now Die For You.” Just them having basically any kind of interaction or acknowledgement of that scene, mostly cause I think it’s funny.

- Let Annabeth keep her laptop, and get rid of the sphere of Archimedes cause it just feels kinds pointless and random? We don’t really have any emotional connection to Annabeth’s laptop (and her hat gets replaced in Demigods & Magicians anyways) so her losing it doesn’t really feel impactful at all. Maybe have Leo use Annabeth’s laptop while she’s in Tartarus and that acts as the point of guilt for him rather than weird random curse stuff with a random new introduced object. Instead of “oh no fortune cookie thing or whatever” it’s him feeling guilty he saved Annabeth’s laptop but couldn’t help Annabeth herself. Especially since Leo would also have his Ogygia identity crisis in the same book so he can feel extra bad about himself for a bit, to lead up to his role in BoO nicely (sometimes a character negatively spiraling is more narratively compelling than them having positive development for the majority of the series and that’s okay! Let him be tragic but again he gets a happy ending and an implication post-BoO that he’ll begin a road of healing/recovery surrounded by loved ones. It works out.) AND there could be a very sweet moment once Annabeth gets back from Tartarus and Leo gives her the laptop back and it’s a huge relief to her that one of her prized possessions was in safe hands while she was gone and that she has it back when she thought she might have lost it.

- Further highlight Jason’s whole Greek/Roman/etc identity crisis. Bonus points if we go further into acknowledging Jupiter/Zeus’s epithets and roles and Jason having some epiphany that the Romans look to him with the expectations of Jupiter/Juno as king and queen of the gods making him some kind of perfect leader, but he’s not that at all. He’s the son of Jove and Juno, father and mother of the gods. He doesn’t want to be a general or praetor or anything like that, he wants to spend time with his friends and family at a summer camp where they’re safe. He wants to regain the childhood he lost being raised as a perfect soldier and get the chance to go to school and learn about his long-lost family and do cheesy summer camp activities. He is a wolf but he is not a creature built for the hunt - he is part of a pack.

- Touched upon it briefly in a previous bullet point but Curse of Achilles can stay/go, does not particularly matter to me either way. I do think it’d be funny though if Percy does keep the Curse of Achilles that he also randomly gets the Nemean Lion’s pelt back. Initially maybe as like a gift from Hera/Juno to help him cover his Achilles’ Heel while he’s running around with no memory just as insurance so he doesn’t die (with bonus points of the Romans being introduced to Percy either wearing the stupidest looking coat ever or wearing just a straight up bullet-proof lion’s pelt, which would even further solidify his “Are We Sure This Guy Isn’t A God In Disguise” vibes). But then later on into the series it’s just kind of part of his outfit or maybe even a running gag. The praetors have their magic bullet-proof cloaks, Percy has a very silly looking bullet-proof fur coat that is sometimes a whole lion.

- Keep Hazel’s blackouts. There’s not really a reason for them to disappear altogether for her? They’re somewhat tied to her powers and are a consequence of her coming back from the dead, which also helps keep the concept running in the series that death is a consequence that can’t just be easily evaded, even while we’re operating with the Doors of Death being open. That way future deaths in the series don’t feel like they could be as easily negated/avoided. Also, Hazel is disabled! This is a disability of hers! Why are we somehow magically getting rid of it without even an explanation as to why? Heck, if we’re getting rid of Piper’s knife, Hazel’s dreams when she has her blackouts could be used to supplement the dagger’s insight into the future, since we’ve already established that Hazel gets prophetic dreams sometimes anyways. Also fun thematic matching for the Death Sibs with them both having disabilities and random ways to glean the future (Hazel’s blackouts, Nico talking to ghosts). Her blackouts would probably improve slightly over the course of the series but never fully disappear, and it ends up mostly a thing of she can tell when they’re about to occur and prepare quickly for that or let someone know before she passes out.

- Get rid of Frank’s curse in SoN instead of waiting until The Tyrant’s Tomb. If we’re going to get rid of it eventually anyways, do it during the big scene of him freeing Thanatos. Let him have his cool big moment of embracing his destiny and that breaking the curse the first time he does it rather than him doing it twice but it only breaking the curse the second time? Also if the curse is broken earlier on then Frank’s entire arc gets to be about him realizing he has a life to live, since in SoN a major part of his character is that he’s not afraid of death because he’s used to the idea that his curse could kill him at any point. He’s actually pretty reckless for the beginning of HoO because of that. If he realizes that he no longer is at risk of dying at any given moment because he thought about candles too hard, then that opens the opportunity of him having a whole existential crisis about what he actually wants to do with his life and him looking to the future for once.

Bonus opportunity for this - maybe Frank actually gets fire powers as a result of his curse breaking. Ares/Mars has an association with fire so it would fit for him as a son of Mars. Plus, then we could also have an even more overt dynamic of Frank and Leo acting as each other’s parallels and foils and the two of them slowly growing more used to one another and actually becoming close friends. Lots of bonding over getting used to their fire powers and overcoming their mutual fears of fire and probably also solidarity in having lost their moms. Just - the boys are bonding! The boys are bonding. Fire boys hours.

- Related to Frank’s curse, give Hazel and Frank parallel narratives of them realizing they have a future ahead of them (Hazel re: getting a second chance at life and Frank re: realizing he’s no longer at risk of spontaneously combusting) and them grappling with trying to figure out what they want to do with their lives and how they want to live them after everything is said and done. And also being motivated for once to make it out the other side in one piece because they’re determined to not waste the opportunity they’ve been given. The two of them coming to terms with realizing they have a future if they can make it through this (which is also a fun contrast to Leo and Nico actively almost sacrificing their own lives for others and having essentially an opposite character arc for the majority of the series).

- Especially while Frank (and Hazel) are having these arcs, going back to the idea of Leo getting stuck on Ogygia alone for a bit - very strongly contrasting the arcs of Frank’s mental health improving over the series while Leo’s is very steadily decreasing (until BoO at which point again the series ends with Leo getting help and beginning to improve/heal).

- Also further emphasizing Leo and Nico’s parallels throughout HoO. They’re both autistic on top of the usual adhd/dyslexia and have issues with social interactions and care a lot about Hazel and are having a majorly bad time throughout the entire quest and are pretty depressed, etc etc etc. Again, parallel narratives at the end of BoO with them healing and things looking up for them - I think I’ve mentioned that like four times now you get the idea.

- Make Frank ADHD/dyslexic. There is literally no reason for him not to be and him being the outlier for being neurotypical feels weird and doesn’t fit with the literal entire worldbuilding we have for demigods. If it’s part of “demigod instincts” or whatever then Frank should be ADHD/dyslexic! And it’s not even a “the Romans aren’t ADHD/dyslexic” because we’re explicitly told they are! They are specifically also ADHD and dyslexic! So why isn’t Frank? There’s no reason. It annoys me.

- The Frank/Hazel/Leo “love triangle” can stay but it’s significantly more one-sided. Frank is mostly just intimidated by Leo for multiple reasons (mostly fire-related reasons) and Leo is mutually intimidated by Frank (because Frank is bigger than him and Leo is scared of everyone, really, but especially people who are bigger than him, because they could beat him up. Which is basically everyone). Hazel is not romantically interested in Leo and Leo is not romantically interested in her, though they are very close and do have a very confusing time trying to figure out the whole Sammy situation. Frank still misinterprets this as Hazel and Leo being romantic. Leo does not realize Frank is misinterpreting that as them being romantic and think Frank just hates him for the general reasons that Leo has found people usually hate him for no reason over. Leo wants nothing to do with that situation though. Eventually they all sort it out and become a very strong trio.

- Again as I briefly touched upon before, maybe give Reyna a protagonist role in MOA if not an outright POV. Probably an outright POV, with the main POVs of the book being her and Annabeth. Again, themes of historical associations between Athena and Bellona and playing with that, alongside making Reyna more of a prominent player earlier on in the series and letting us see more of the Romans. Use this opportunity to heavily parallel her with Annabeth (and also highlight her parallels with Percy, and Annabeth’s parallels with Jason).

- Really I just want more Annabeth/Jason and Percy/Reyna parallels. There’s so much you can do there. The blond(e) gifted kid/smart aleck raised at camp and their best friend, the former newbie raised with a difficult home life. Percy and Reyna both have dogs (Mrs. O’Leary / Aurum and Argentium) and pegasi (Blackjack and Skippy). And a sibling they don’t see often (Tyson / Hylla). You could have notes about Jason and Thalia and Annabeth and the dynamics within that and how those internally parallel each other. Or more about when Reyna encountered Percy and Annabeth while on Circe’s Island. Really anything more about Reyna’s time on Circe’s Island. Heck maybe you could parallel that to Percy’s difficult time in school, since Circe’s whole thing was that she was training the sorceresses living there, so that’s kind of like a school environment. Paralleling first quests between Reyna and Jason with the events of the first series with Percy and Annabeth. Etc. etc. etc.

- We are taking BoO and just. Throwing it out the window, really. We don’t have time to unpack all of that. Just start mostly from scratch, same extremely rough overarching elements are there.

- Also actually just. Rework the whole main prophecy too while we’re at it. It kinda sucks. It’s just kind of a weak prophecy. “To storm or fire the world will fall” or whatever; we can do better. I don’t have the brain power to write a better prophecy right now but just [see my recent post] for notes about what I think makes for a good prophecy in the series and why the main HoO one is kinda lame.

Footnotes:

Again, I will be following this up with part 2 electric boogaloo: Things I Would Change About TOA* (*That I can say without spoiling Deadangelos too much) at some point and I will link that when I make it. If you made it this far, gold star.

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apollosgiftofprophecy · 5 months

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RRVerse Fandom, Please Hear Me Out...

Message to the wider Riordanverse fandom:

Please correctly tag your fanfics with the correct fandom tags.

I am getting tired of seeing non-Apollo fics cluttering up the Trials of Apollo tag (such as Percy/Annabeth. like. what. they're barely in ToA. why are they there.). If your fanfic does not deal with Apollo, Meg McCaffrey, or the story of ToA or the consequences of it, please do not tag it as such.

I have seen fics tagged as ToA and not even have the MC, Apollo, tagged as part of the cast. So please. I am begging you. Please stop. You have the Percy Jackson & the Olympians - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians, AND The Heroes of Olympus tags.

Solangelo writers, you now have the Sun and the Star tag, as well as the All Media Types one. Unless it happens during or alongside something to do with Apollo & his story, please refrain from tagging it as ToA.

And no. I do not think just being Solangelo should qualify all Solangelo fics to be tagged as ToA. If anything, they should be The Sun and The Star tag or even The Heroes of Olympus tag because that's when it all began! However, if, say, it's during The Hidden Oracle or takes place in the ToA timeframe then sure! ToA tag it!

But if it's just like an AU or something that only focuses on Solangelo? Then please don't. It's not ToA then.

This is what the ToA tag looks like btw:

I know, Nico, Will, and Percy are all popular characters, but COME ON. This is Apollo's tag, please give him this! It's so hard to find fics I want to read because it's so cluttered! Apollo's not even in the top three most-tagged characters in his own fandom tag.😒

And look at the gap between the number of fics Apollo's in compared to Percy! A 354 gap! And there's 1,616 gap between Apollo and Nico! And I can say with certainty that not all of those fics Percy - and even Nico and Will - are in are related to ToA.

Meg McCaffrey, the second MC of the series, is not even on the board. And she's a very close second MC.

And trust me. I know a bunch of these fics have nothing to do with ToA. I have scoured the tag many times and have figured that out.

So please, please, please leave The Trials of Apollo tag be unless you are writing for The Trials of Apollo. We are our own fandom and frankly, it's getting annoying having to shuffle through a bunch of fics that have nothing to do with ToA just to find ones we want to read.

Fic authors, it would be such a big help if you could remove the ToA tag from your fic if it doesn't have anything to do with ToA. I know you want your fic to be seen, and use a bunch of tags to do so, but this really inconveniences the ToA fans who just want to read about our favorite loser god and his gremlin adopted sister. ☹️

Sincerely,

A ToA fan who just wants to read fics about her favorite character but can hardly wade through the fics even with the filtering system.

Thank you. It needed to be said.

#plunged into the toa ao3 tag #and returned annoyed and frustrated #so hard to find my boy #so hard to find fics for toa IN THE TOA TAG #like. please. please. i am begging you. please properly tag your fics.#proper tagging also means NOT tagging fandoms that have NOTHING TO DO with your fic #when i write my fics i tag them All Media Types and ToA #because they are about Apollo and the wider rrverse #but i've seen fics tagged as toa and NOTHING from toa shows up in them #NOTHING #no apollo. no meg. nothing.#and really apollo should be the main selling point #if he's not an important character in the fic than honestly the fic's not toa #exceptions are meg-centric fics or a character who debuts in toa #like lavinia or crest or emmie and jo or-#you get my meaning #so i've decided to throw this out there #please please please tag fics correctly. please. i know i'm not alone in this the toa fandom has a hard enough time okay do us this favor #AND YES. i know. “use the filter” and I HAVE been doing that BUT EVEN SO it's STILL difficult to find toa-centric fics!#i'm just. frustrated. it'll be a big help if ao3 writers would do this for us. please. i know i'm not alone in this #please and thank you #percy jackon and the olympians #the heros of olympus #the trials of apollo #pjo hoo toa #heros of olympus #heroes of olympus #trials of apollo #percy jackson #rick riordan

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aphroditelovesu · 2 years

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Yandere Greek Gods - Profile II

"Even the gods themselves need love and yours is the best of all." - Greek Gods.

❝⚡️— lady l: hey! Here I am again, bringing you the second and probably last part of the profile of the Greek gods. Before reading, I want to make some things clear, I didn't make all the Greek gods, if it wouldn't take too long, I made the most important ones. Of the twelve Olympians and some extras, for example, Persephone and Hades are not Olympians, but they are listed. Maybe in the future I can make the minor gods, but there's no plan. If you want to read the first part click here or search one of the tags below. I didn't do it in alphabetical order or the oldest, I ended up leaving it randomly and some got bigger and others smaller.

❝⚡️tw: yandere themes in general, dub-con, implicit non-con, possessive and obsessive behavior. If you feel uncomfortable with any of these themes, I recommend not reading.

❝⚡️word counter: 3k+

MANIPULATOR

Athena is the Greek goddess of wisdom, craftsmanship and strategy in warfare. Daughter of Zeus and Metis.

"Y/N, you know it's not wise to argue with me about this. You're not going to abandon me to these petty mortals. You insult me by asking me to."

Athena is an extremely proud goddess and that is dangerous. Any affront or insult will not be treated lightly. You will be punished and after being punished, you will be drowned in the caresses of the goddess.

She is manipulative, what more could you expect from the goddess of wisdom? Athena is wise, she knows how to manipulate you very well and you won't even know you're being puppeted unless she wants you to know.

Athena will punish you until you learn, but you won't need to be punished many times, the goddess will make sure you learn the first time.

In a platonic way she will be more tolerable with you, but will still be strict. Athena expects no less from her obsessional perfection. You must be perfect for her and she will make you be.

"I'm so disappointed in you, Ynn. How dare you try to leave? I've tried to avoid physically hurting you, but apparently it's the only way you know how to obey. With pain."

Kinks: dom. Athena is definitely a dom, she wants it and will be at the top.

Nicknames: Ynn (imagine it as the initial of her name plus the letter "e", like Lee), princess/prince.

OBSESSIVE

Artemis is the Greek goddess of hunting, chastity and in some versions the moon. Daughter of Zeus and Leto, twin sister of Apollo.

"Do you want to go hunting with me today, dear? It will just be the two of us..."

Artemis is an obsessive and protective yandere. She is strong and decisive, Artemis wants you and she will have it. From a young age, Artemis always knew what he wanted. A group of hunters who, like her, took a vow of chastity. But after meeting you, maybe she'll reconsider.. or not.

Artemis is one of the yandere most likely to be platonically in love with you. The goddess worships you, simply, you were so kind, innocent and intelligent, which immediately attracted the attention of the goddess of hunting. You haven't been corrupted by the evils of the world yet, and she wants you to stay that way.

If she becomes romantically involved with you, there will hardly be sex involved, but she doesn't mean it's not impossible, because it can happen. But due to her oath, the goddess is much more likely to remain platonically in love with you.

Although she is known to be serious and strict, Artemis is kind and tolerant of you. You are one of the few mortals the goddess has affections for, she wants you to remain pure.

If you remain pure and devoted to the goddess of the hunt, Artemis will reward you handsomely.

"Oh, is my little deer hurt? Tell me who hurt you and I promise to make that person regret it."

Kinks: hunting games. You are the prey and she is your predator. It is Artemis' favorite fantasy.

Nicknames: dear, little deer.

CONTROLLER

Apollo is the god of the sun, music, plagues, prophecy, medicine, arts, oracles, truth, disease, healing, poetry, archery, initiator of young people into the world of adults, masculine beauty, perfection, harmony, balance and reason. Son of Zeus and Leto, twin brother of Artemis.

"You can't leave, Y/N. What if you get hurt? I can't risk your safety."

Let's be clear, Apollo is a controlling god and he doesn't accept to receive a "no", none of them accepts in fact, after all they are gods and you are a mere mortal, but Apollo can be worse, I mean, take a good look at Cassandra of Troy.

Apollo wants to control you in every way, when you wake up, when you sleep, what you eat, who you talk to and even your clothes. Everything you do will be scrutinized by the god.

In addition to being controlling, Apollo is quite protective. Not that you can blame him, after all, all of his lovers have tragically died and he doesn't want the same to happen to you.

As the sun god, Apollo is always aware of where you are. God has hell, wherever you are he will be there. He wants you to be by his side all the time, for you to share your thoughts with him whether you want to or not. Privacy is something you will never know after he sets eyes on you.

Apollo is a very jealous god. He gets jealous so easily it's ridiculous. Apollo is jealous when the wind hits his delicate skin, after all, the wind is a god too. He will always be hovering over you.

"What are you about to play a game? Don't worry, my Muse. I won't let anything happen to you."

Kinks: dom, probably a little daddykink (given the power he feels when you call him that).

Nicknames: sunshine, sun, my Muse.

IN LOVE

Aphrodite is the Greek goddess of love, beauty and sexuality. In some versions she is the daughter of Zeus and Dione, but the most famous is that she was born from sea foam, after the castration of Uranus.

"Love is the most powerful emotion there is."

Aphrodite is the embodiment of feminine beauty. She is the most beautiful and desired goddess. She wants to be adored by everyone, she is adored by everyone. But what she craves most is your attention, devotion and your love.

The goddess is not afraid to show how much she is in love with you. Why should she? She is the goddess of love! Aphrodite wants you to know in every way possible how much she loves you. You are the person she cares about and loves the most, so you should always have confirmation that she loves you more than anything in the world.

Expect to receive many gifts from the goddess. From dazzling silk dresses, jewelry to decorated handcuffs. She will pamper you infinitely, you are her greatest treasure, nothing could be fairer than that you receive everything from the most expensive and the best. Whatever you ask for you will get, have no doubt that any wish you have, even the simplest, will be fulfilled.

The only thing Aphrodite wants in exchange for all the luxury she will provide you with is your love and devotion. Just for her. You must be completely devoted and loyal to your goddess, otherwise she is more than willing to punish you. Her punishments would be both physical and sexual, she has no fear or any hesitation to cause you physical pain.

If you are disobedient or stubborn, know that you will be insulting her. Aphrodite is known to have a dangerous temper and when she is offended nothing can be done to calm her anger, look at the case of Myrrha and Hippolytus. Nothing and no one could do anything to calm the goddess's fury and it's not like anyone will help you, as she is extremely dangerous and is willing to use Ares or anyone else to destroy an entire country as a way of punishing you. And she won't feel an ounce of guilt about it. She would blame you, saying that those people died because you didn't accept her love.

It goes without saying that Aphrodite is an extremely jealous goddess, bordering on possessiveness. Nobody has the right to touch you. You belong to her and her alone. Anyone who tries to touch you will lose their hands or their life, depending on whether she's feeling merciful.

As long as you remain devoted and accept Aphrodite's love for you, you and everyone around her will be protected. Aphrodite loves you so much and wants to stay with you forever. But remember, Aphrodite was once known as the goddess of war and all is fair in love and war.

"Shall we take a shower together, my love? I promise to get you clean. Are we going to do more than just bathe? Maybe..."

Kinks: literally anything. Aphrodite doesn't have a specific kink, she loves to try anything with you.

Nicknames: my love, my passion and my beautiful.

POSSESSIVE

Ares is the Greek god of war. Son of Zeus and Hera.

"I'll take you with me to the next battle. Shh, don't argue with me. I'm sure you'll like it."

Ares, like his mother, is extremely possessive. It has no other adjective to put in. He sees you as his, as a possession, more like an object to be possessed than a person.

You weren't sure why and how you attracted the attention of the god of war. Maybe it's because you're a peaceful and anti-war person that, in a way, you loathed Ares. It was an affront to him and it infuriated him. You should be punished. Not only did you not pray to him, you tried to dissuade the others from stopping the killing. Ares knew you had to be punished severely and that was exactly what he planned to do.

When he went to meet you, it didn't go the way he had planned. Instead of having to punish, he was stunned. You radiated such a calm and passivity that he was fascinated by you. Ares was instantly fixated on you. He wanted you and he would have you. He would make you the perfect wife/husband, but for that Ares needs to make sure you would support him.

Ares is not a gentle god, quite the opposite. He's gross and rude. There's no kind of gentleness when he touches you. Kisses from him are usually rude and it seems like he's always trying to get you pressed like anything, from a wall to your own arms if there’s nothing else.

However, there are moments, rare but there are, where Ares is affectionate with you. This would be more likely to occur if you are pregnant or if it is your first time. In either case, he would be much more affectionate and try to be as gentle with you as possible. It might not seem like it because of Ares' brutal nature, but he can be soft when he wants to.

Ares loves you. This is a fact. But his love for you is twisted, he won't let you walk away from him. His possessiveness is suffocating and uncontrolled, he would beat anyone to death just because they dared to lay eyes on you. No one would be safe from him, not even you. Be very careful with him, Ares is more than willing to hurt you in any way possible to make you understand that you belong to him.

"I gouged out the eyes of that old bastard who asked you what time it was. What? Don't look at me like that! Did you like his attention?! YOU ARE MINE!"

Kinks: dom, rough sex and BDSM.

Nicknames: flame and sweetsoldier.

WORSHIPER

Hephaestus is the Greek god of the forge, blacksmiths, artisans, sculptors, metals, metallurgy, fire and volcanoes. Son of Zeus and Hera. Although, in some versions, he is just the son of Hera.

"I know I may seem disgusting to you, precious. But I want you to love me as much as I love you."

Hephaestus' biggest problem is his insecurity. Not that you blame him, I mean, his mother threw him off Mount Olympus because she thought he was so ugly and he was cheated on by his wife, so you can expect him to be insecure and somewhat paranoid. He knows he doesn't deserve you, he puts you on a pedestal. As if you were the goddess/god and not him. Hephaestus fears abandonment, he will do anything for you, anything so you don't abandon him or betray him. Ask and you will have.

He would definitely be the god who would spoil you the most. Others would too, but not as much as Hephaestus. He is always making new jewelry or trinkets for you. All made with the greatest dedication and affection.

However, Hephaestus can be quite scary. Don't get him wrong, he doesn't want to scare you, but when the god gets jealous (which happens very easily, given how insecure he is) he can become aggressive and threatening. But when his anger fades, all that's left is guilt. He didn't mean to scare you! He loves you! Why did he keep scaring you?

Hephaestus wouldn't force you to be with him. He'll understand if you want to stay away from him, even if it tears him apart inside. Hephaestus will be content to just watch you from a distance if that's what you want. But if you, for some reason, decide to stay with him, you won't leave his side anymore. Choose very carefully.

''Will you promise to stay with me forever, Y/N? I... I really can't let her go...''

Kinks: somnophilia (I can say that Hephaestus would really love to see you sleeping, a bit bizarre I know, but I just think...).

Nicknames: Precious, my life.

DELIRIOUS

Dionysus is the Greek god of wine, parties, life cycles, insanity, theater, religious rites and intoxication. Son of Zeus and Semele, a mortal princess. He is the only Olympian god born to a mortal. He is sometimes replaced by Hestia in the Greek pantheon.

''Today we are going to participate in a celebration! What do you mean by one more? Hmm... Don't worry, baby dolphin, it's the last party I drag you today!''

Dionysus may seem like an easy god to deal with, but don't be stupid, he is not. He's always shrouded in some kind of drunken haze, he's rarely sober, and when he is, it doesn't mean he'll make it any easier to deal with. Because he isn't. In fact, a sober Dionysus is a lot more work and a pain in the ass than a drunk one.

He is a delusional yandere. A little too obvious for the wine god, but true nonetheless. Dionysus is always wrapped up in his delusional obsession with you and drink. There are only two things he cares about most, you and his precious wine. The order doesn't matter much. He's sober enough to know it's wrong and extremely distorted how he feels about you, but he doesn't care one bit. He is a god and you are a mere mortal. Dionysus is delusional enough to think you're ecstatic that he's fallen in love with you.

He's very dangerous. Never doubt it even one for a moment. The god is always in the presence of his drunken worshipers, they are as obsessed with you as their god is with you. You will never be alone again. If Dionysus is not in your presence, his followers will be. All hovering over you. It would be an understatement to say that you will have almost no privacy.

Dionysus will drag you to all kinds of parties. It doesn't matter if you're the reclusive type of person who hates crowds and noisy places, once you're with him you'll learn to enjoy being the center of attention.

You will be pampered and rewarded by the god if you are not a stubborn person. Dionysus is not a bad option to be trapped, but because he is delusional and is almost always involved in his drink, he will hardly notice your discomfort.

''Here, Y/N-nn, take this grape. Wait! Let me put it in your mouth and then we can enjoy the privacy of our quarters...''

Kinks: exhibitionism and threesome. Dionysus won't mind sharing you with someone (especially since then that person will be dead).

Nicknames: baby dolphin, Y/N-nn (basically your name plus the second letter, like Laa).

STALKER

Hermes is the Greek god of roads and travellers, diplomats, merchants, astronomy, eloquence and initiation. He is considered the messenger of the gods, patron of thieves and the guide of souls to the underworld. Son of Zeus and Maia.

''What do you think about going on a trip? You know, just me and you, to a distant, romantic place. Where no one would ever disturb us.''

Hermes is a stalker, ok, let it be clear to you and everyone else. The god was already chasing you before you even knew, before anyone else knew. It is likely that even moiras were not aware of this. He knows everything about you. Your biggest fears, quirks, your biggest desire and even your darkest secrets. Nothing escapes Hermes' sight. You couldn't hide from him even if you tried, after all, he's the god of the roads, Any way you try to take he'll be there, waiting for you with open arms.

He got to know you in a very unusual way, actually. You were hiking with some friends and ended up getting separated from your group, causing you to get lost and, luckily or unluckily (it's up to you), you ended up meeting Hermes, who provided you with the necessary information. You thanked him and ran off to catch up with your friends, but unknowingly ended up leaving a deeply obsessed Greek god.

After that encounter, the god became thirsty for knowledge for you. He's found out everything he can about you. It was the perfect way to get close to you and he did. You wouldn't even notice Hermes' obsessive behavior as he is quite laid back, but don’t be fool, he can be scary and dangerous if he wants to be. However, luckily for you, this is very rare to happen, but if you end up irritating him too much, you will be punished severely, he will have no mercy.

Hermes is not a jealous or obsessive god. He doesn't demand to have your attention all the time for him, he's also very busy. Hermes is a pretty safe option for falling in love, but like I said, he's a stalker, he'll always have his eye on you. So be very careful what you say or do when he is not ''present''.

''You can run all you want, baby... But you know I'll always catch up with you, don't you?''

Kinks: voyeurism.

Nicknames: baby, sweet, little traveler.

INTENSE

Eros is the Greek god of love and eroticism. In some versions he is the son of Aphrodite and Ares, in others only of Aphrodite and in some he is presented as the son of Chaos, which would make him a primordial god.

''You know you can't resist love, my princess/prince. I don't know why you still try.''

Eros is the embodiment of sexual desire, of everything erotic. His emotions are intense and very powerful, which makes him one of the most dangerous yanderes among all the Greek gods. His anger is not to be treated lightly. His love should not be ignored and he should never, ever, under any circumstances, be neglected.

He loves too much, too much. What he feels for you is the purest love there is in the world, at least that's how he thinks, as it's completely twisted and unhealthy. The god is completely out of control when it comes to his love for you, he is ecstatic, overexcited. He wants you on his side all the time and so it will be.

Eros is very jealous. He is jealous of everything and everyone who approaches you. He doesn't like any of this. You are his and he will use force if necessary to make you understand this.

He is an extremely dangerous god when insulted. He will punish you, but his punishments are mostly sexual, but that doesn't mean he's not willing to leave marks on your delicate skin. If you resist his love, Eros will use his arrows on you. He doesn't want that, he doesn't want a puppet, but if that's what he needs to do to make you love him then so be it. You will love him willingly or by force. It's your choice.

''Stand still, Y/N! If you don't want to love me willingly, then I have to force you. Either way, you will love me.''

Kinks: Eros does not have a specific kink. He's willing to do anything in bed, but to be honest, he likes to be submissive. It's his dirtiest secret, he wants you to master it.

Nicknames: princess/prince, love.

CAREGIVER

Persephone is the Greek goddess of Spring dead, life, grain, nature, destruction, herbs, flowers, fruits and perfumes. She is the Queen of the Underworld. She is the daughter of Zeus and Demeter and the wife of Hades.

''No need to worry, my sweetie. I will be here for you. Ever.''

Persephone is a very kind goddess. She has a reputation for being kind to heroes and that's true. She is one of the kindest and gentle goddesses of all the Greek gods, to the point of being quite naive, although this changes a bit after she becomes the Queen of the Underworld.

The goddess laid her eyes on you after meeting you briefly at one of the Olympian festivities. Before she married Hades. You were a goddess/god, a minor goddess/god, but you had been invited and Persephone couldn't take her eyes off you. But she never tried to talk to you, her mother Demeter was extremely protective and wouldn't let anyone near her, so the goddess didn't dare approach you.

But everything changed after her kidnapping and her marriage to Hades, even after she got married and supposedly fell in love with her husband, you were still on the goddess's mind all the time and now that she was away from her mother, she could have the chance to speak with you. And she did. You were exactly as Persephone had imagined, kind and fun. Rumors about your kindness were true and she fell even more in love with you.

Persephone is a very compassionate goddess, she would never force you into anything or try to hurt you in any way. She loves you too much for that. The goddess would never dare do anything to hurt you. You would be pampered and adored by her. You two would do anything together, she refuses to leave your side. Even when she returns to her husband's side, she will convince you to go to the underworld with her.

Getting stuck with Persephone is not a bad thing. She is kind and calm, she would never try to hurt you and would give you all the affection in the world if you wanted. But you have to stay by her side. And she will go up against anyone who was opposed to her relationship, no matter who.

''What do you say we go for a walk in my garden, Y/N-wer? If you're hungry, I've got some pomegranates here with me.''

Kinks: dom and aftercare. Persephone can be kind and all, but in the bedroom she's the one who dominates.

Nicknames: Y/N-wer (mixture of Y/N with flower) and my goddess/god.

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venusjeon · 1 year

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golden arrows

the god Apollo is dared to seduce the first mortal his eyes set upon without revealing his identity, so changing his appearance slightly and taking the name of Hoseok, he crosses paths with you. but as it happens, the only man you say you'd ever lie with is Apollo... also, you're on a quest to steal his golden arrows.

♔ PAIRING: apollo!hoseok x mortal!reader

♔ GENRE: greek mythology, historical & bet au, adventure, fluff, humour

♔ WORD COUNT: 9.6k

♔ WARNINGS: religion themes, drinking, swearing, period-typical sexism, animal hunting&sacrifice, nudity, kissing, mentions of non-consensual sex, sex happens but no smut soz, murder

♔ BETA: @yoonoclock <3 thank you so much again !!

♔ AUTHOR'S NOTE: nvm the fic can we appreciate the banner bc i kinda served with it. no but this has been in my wips for almost as long as i've had this blog so i'm v excited for you guys to read it :D

Heroic Age

Sing to me, ‘o muse, the song of a priestess who was loved by a god willing to forgive her wicked crime.

It was a peaceful night on OLYMPUS, the home of the gods, where everyone had gone to sleep hours ago under a black sky dusted with stars.

Everyone save Apollo, Hermes, and Dionysus, who refused to be parted with their jug of wine that refilled on its own so the party should never end. So much of it had they consumed, though, that even the god of the drink had come to neglect his cup, slumping over the table while his half-brothers slouched on their chairs.

But what they were yet to lose was their sense of humour, as they teased each other about their tragic love lives. Now, it was Apollo’s turn to be taken the piss out of.

“At least the objects of my desire run towards me, not away,” laughed Hermes. “What was that nymph’s name, Daphne?”

Apollo gestured his discrepancy by waving his index finger side to side. “That was the doing of that winged fuck, Eros.” Famously, he had struck Apollo’s heart with an arrow that kindled love and Daphne’s with one that banished it. Pursuing her through the forest until she begged to be turned into a laurel tree to escape his advances, Apollo learned never to get on the wrong side of the god of desire again. “He’s always had it in for me, I tell you.”

“Sure, yes, blame him,” twice-born Dionysus said, cheek still glued to the table. “We can all play that game.”

Hermes nodded. “Admit it, brother, only the thrill of consorting with an immortal draws them to you. And it fades quickly once they realise you can’t pleasure them in bed.”

“Oh, you tell yourself that’s it.”

“I bet you my herald’s staff.”

“Bet what, exactly?” Apollo scoffed. “It’s not like I can stop being a god. Your joke of a point cannot be proved, you fool.”

“Except, it can,” Dionysus said as he sat upright, but Apollo didn’t understand, so he sighed, “Isn’t intelligence supposed to be one of your domains? We’re no strangers to changing our appearance so that mortals can’t recognise us, so seduce the first one you see without revealing your true identity. It will confirm they’re not pretending to love you just because you’re a god.”

“Another of my domains is prophecy, you seem to forget. I can’t lie. Otherwise, who would believe my oracles?” Apollo pointed out, then smirked. “It’s also why I can be trusted when I say you two are my least favourite Olympians.”

He was allowed to joke, right?

“More merit if you succeed. Which you won’t, of course,” Hermes said with a smile shared by Dionysus.

Apollo pursed his lips. He was aware the wine was to blame for his taking offence at the mocking tone of his brothers, but he couldn’t help his own pride.

“Very well. Kiss your staff goodbye.”

He would show them.

Past noon the next day, shining Apollo descended from the summits of Olympus having taken the likeness of a youth whose good looks equalled his—physical attraction was after all a part of love, as was Aphrodite’s other realm, beauty, a part of Apollo’s identity.

He would take the name of Hoseok. It meant ‘a name known throughout the entire country’, so it could perfectly be a new epithet of his, like Phoebus or Delius were. Yes, not a lie. All good. So, Hoseok chose a forest near the city of TEGEA to wander through, hoping to come across someone. That someone was you.

Bowstring drawn and arrow aimed at three sword-wielding men.

Without a second’s delay, Hoseok made appear his golden bow and arrows, known to never miss their archer’s target. Surely coming to your rescue would be a good start? Except... you might need none.

The men were close enough to trust their own weapon outdid yours, failed to consider you’d move fast enough to dodge the sharp edge of their bronze swords and that by grabbing your arrow by its shaft, you’d manage to graze their skin with its tip, forcing them to step back with a grunt.

Unwilling to wait and find out how they’d counterattack, Hoseok nocked and then released his own arrow, which as intended, landed right before their feet in the form of a normal wooden one.

You turned around with a frown. Who–?

“That can’t be fair, three against one?”

The sound of the men fleeing behind you at the sight of this stranger halted your thoughts. His face certainly did too, as well as his bright hair that shone under the sunlight like spun gold. With a satisfied smile, he stored his weapons in the quiver he carried on his back and approached you, chest slightly out as if he owned the forest. From each step he gave seemed to spring a harmony that filled the air, but you still gripped your bow, wary. He noticed. “I mean you no harm.”

Once he was in front of you, Hoseok was able to take a better look at your face, one he instantly liked. What a relief that bet or not, he’d pursue you. However, he also noticed your smile was forced, as though being saved was an inconvenience.

“Good to know. Thank you for the help. I’ve no time to lose but if our paths ever cross again, I promise to repay your favour.”

And just like that, you walked past him.

“Wait!” He turned around to catch up with you once he got over the unforeseeable blow. “Allow me to escort you out of the forest. There may be more bandits lurking about.”

“I don’t need your protection.”

Clearly... He chuckled, “But I might need yours.” Just not for the reason being discussed.

Now that he thought about it, was this the work of Hermes? After all, he was the one in charge of keeping roads and travellers safe, as well as thieves.

You looked him up and down while walking. A man with such a build, he certainly would not need help, and if he wanted something of yours, he could just take it—or try. So he really was just a kind stranger, huh. “As you wish.”

Hoseok smiled, held hands behind his back. “Tell me, what is your name and where do you come from?”

“I am Y/N, and I’m a priestess of Apollo in PYLOS.” Hoseok almost gasped in delight. Well, this was fate!

Although based on the fact you dressed a man’s knee-length chiton and wore your hair tight up in a subtle bun, he’d sooner have guessed you were a follower of his twin sister, the huntress Artemis. The reason for it was probably that it was safer to travel as a man, but either way Hoseok was fucked. His priestesses were sworn to chastity.

“We are a long way from Pylos.”

“And going further away north-east, I know. I’m… on a quest.” The stranger’s visible intrigue pressured you into providing some context, “My younger brother Jungkook is a servant at the royal palace, and two days ago he was charged with treason for trying to murder the prince, of which I believe he is innocent. We weren’t allowed to speak but he’s a sweet boy, such evil would never cross his mind. He’s being kept in a cell now, awaiting an execution only I can prevent, for the king said he’d be pardoned if in seven days I brought him Apollo’s golden arrows...”

Hoseok had to stop himself from making a dramatic halt. If Jungkook was indeed as innocent as you claimed, you could pray for him to aid your brother either by lending you the arrows or making the king see reason. You needn’t be on a quest. Unless, “You mean to steal them.”

“I’ve no choice,” you said bitterly with your eyes cast down, ashamed all the same. Priestesses were supposed to honour the gods, yet you were about to rob one of them, yours. It was a blasphemous defiance, hubris, but also the only way to save Jungkook. You glanced at the stranger, wondered whether he was contemplating stopping you. “I bet you regret scaring those three robbers away earlier. It is odd that I haven’t rightfully been struck down already with a golden arrow shot from the Heavens for what I’m about to do. I know I’d deserve it.”

Hoseok understood your hands were tied. It was not you whom his anger was directed at, but the king, for sending you off on such a mission. He’d deal with him.

First, though, came you. No matter your circumstances, you were the first mortal he’d seen, and he’d already decided where to display Hermes’ staff in his palace in Olympus.

“Maybe Apollo has looked into your heart and seen it is pure, and will punish that who is making you do this instead. If only you pray so to him.”

You scoffed. “I think he has more important things to do than listen to the prayers of a nobody.”

A nobody? But you were one of his priestesses! There were few mortals dearer to him.

“I assume, then, that you’re headed to CORINTH.”

“Correct. I’m to catch a ship there to cross the gulf. But enough about me. What do they call you, and why do you find yourself in this forest?”

A forest that, you’d failed to notice, was crowded. Nymphs of nearby trees, flowers, lakes, and springs, all gathered to stare at Hoseok in awe as he walked. Animals too. They could see his ethereal self under his disguise, yet dared not approach him, hiding instead from your sight. Were he not busy, he wouldn’t mind lying there to sing and play the lyre for them.

“I am Hoseok, and my brothers… want me to meet a girl. I was on my way to her.”

“A girl? Do you mean, to take as wife?”

Hoseok astutely answered the first question only, “Yes. I’m told she will likewise be in Corinth.”

“If you can keep up, I’d not mind a travel companion.” Hoseok was about to say keeping up was not a problem with him when he realised the animals were dispersing and the nymphs forming a crowd ahead. You followed his gaze and groaned. “Another obstacle? Who am I, Theseus?”

Hoseok laughed, “Every hero faces challenges.”

Thief, rather. Though being called hero did make a flush creep across your cheeks… until reaching the hubbub, where all colour drained from them. The nine Muses were there, a youth knelt and clasping the knees of one of them in the manner of a supplicant.

“Please,” he begged, “I didn’t mean it, it was just a jest!”

They weren’t moved by his tears. “All here heard you set yourself above shining Apollo, speak ill of him. It is only fitting your mouth be sewn shut with a lyre’s string as punishment.”

Hoseok raised his eyebrows, amused. Nice one. He wished he could be there in his real form to do the job himself. But seeing you attempt to gulp the lump in your throat beside him, he could tell you were horrified. Did you fear to share the same fate? You would, in truth, had Hoseok caught you trying to steal his arrows, but now that he knew your justification and was set on seducing you, a different future was to be woven by the Moirai.

He whispered in your ear, “I think I dropped my bag of coins back where we met. I promise I won’t be long.”

You sighed, “I’ll watch the spectacle in the meantime.” To know what to expect when your time came…

The fair-voiced Muses recognised Hoseok as he left, pretended not to. If he was undercover, he must have a reason, and they wouldn’t out him. They weren’t surprised when he returned as Apollo.

He appeared out of nowhere, the god you planned to slight, so beautiful your eyes almost hurt as when one looks at the sun—radiance shone from his head, his curly hair so bright that a golden crown must camouflage in it under the sunlight, much like Hoseok’s. Guilt stung your heart when his gaze found yours and he smiled warmly.

Apollo then turned his attention to the kneeling youth, who’d begun to sweat. “What do we have here?”

“This boy boasted he was a better musician than you.” The Muses laughed, and you almost did too. It was a ridiculous claim.

“Did he?” Apollo’s good mood seemed untempered. “Well, I’ve no time for a music competition, so shall we just agree you’re in the wrong?”

The youth was quick to nod, yet dared not look away from the ground. “Y-Yes, Phoebus!”

“Do you regret your crime?”

“Awfully, lord, I do!”

“Well, tempted as I may be to make an example of you, today I’m feeling merciful. You’re forgiven.”

There was a pause in which the whole forest fell silent, asking themselves if they’d heard right. A god letting pass an act of hubris was unprecedented. You held the air in your lungs, unsure whether to release it in relief, as this might just mean your venture wasn’t doomed.

“Forgiven?” Even the Muses were dumbfounded.

“It’s not often mortals show remorse, so as long as they do, there’s no need for harsh punishment. Especially if they’re pretty.” Apollo glanced at you, making your lips part, before turning around to face the youth again. “Pour a libation for me and we’ll call it a day, eh?”

Later, long-winged Selene was pulling the moon behind her from the chariot she drove in the sky to bring the night when thanks to Zeus’ sacred laws of hospitality, xenia, an old couple near ARGOS was happy to feed you dinner and provide a bed for you to sleep in—one you’d have to share, which was absolutely fine and not the cause of your arisen nerves.

But once lying on it, the tension in your muscles weakened as you listened to Hoseok play a soothing melody on a lyre he’d found in a chest, and a faint smile settled on your lips.

“This song… I once heard Apollo play it,” you confessed. Given Hoseok was the author of it and had taught it to no one yet, he frowned. He was certain he’d never met you before that day, so how could you have heard him play it?

“When?”

“I was a child. Jungkook and I were playing in the forest outside of Pylos when we heard it. We followed the sound and found Apollo sat against a rock with all sorts of animals surrounding him, listening to him play and hum. It was lovely.”

Even though the gods were known to harshly punish mortals who spied on them, Hoseok smiled too. He played often for the animals, so he didn’t know which specific day you were talking about, but he was glad it served as a happy memory that eased your journey into the embrace of sleep. Although it probably had to do more with your brother.

Hoseok couldn’t blame you, as he also loved his sister deeply, had even slain a divine creature for his mother once. Family was as important to you as it was to him and for that very reason, he realised then that Hermes’ staff was already lost to him. There was nothing else you could afford to care about.

Little did you know, there was nothing else Hoseok chose to care about but you.

Early the next morning, you reached Argos, only that you went around instead of through it.

The great city wasn’t closed, but the old couple had warned you Apollo had stung its citizens with his arrows of pestilence because their queen had neglected him in her devotion, sacrificing to all the gods but him. She should’ve accounted for the detail that while one of his sides was healing and medicine, the other was plague and disease.

Hoseok didn’t regret it. It was her fault her people were suffering. But the grim look on your face when you’d been told… He knew the news had cancelled out the hope born inside you yesterday and that you’d immediately asked yourself that if he’d done that over some sacrifices, what would he do to you for stealing from him?

Midway through the day, while hunting for lunch, he decided to lighten the mood.

“But why not? Most priestesses don’t serve for life!”

A part of you hoped Hoseok was exaggerating his dismay at your refusal to marry not to make you laugh, but so you wouldn’t suspect it was in fact real– No. There was no sense to that thought. Where did it even come from? You were a priestess, he was to be married, and you didn’t know each other.

“My family would have to come up with a dowry and they can’t afford it.”

“I think any is a small price to pay for a man to keep your bed warm.”

Oh… so that was it? He was indignant you wouldn’t know such pleasures? You’d never craved them, honestly, rather thought they were only possible for men. Interesting. But not important right now, as opposed to the rabbit moving about in that bush. Nocking an arrow on your bow, you whispered, “The only man I’d ever care to sleep with anyway is Apollo."

Hoseok felt smug for a second, as he followed your step, then reminded himself this was bad. You were supposed to fall for him, not Apollo. “I’m sure every man back in Pylos prays daily that you quit priesthood.”

A snort betrayed you and the rabbit darted away from the bush, so seizing the chance, you released the arrow and assured lunch. “Thanks Apollo!”

“Don’t mention it–” During the short duration of a missed beat, Hoseok’s heart had forgotten that it was common for mortal archers to thank him, the god of archery, when they hit their targets. Sweet merciful Zeus! Why was he on edge? “Uh… D-Don’t mention his name. We don’t want to summon him, do we?”

Before heading to the lifeless rabbit, you nodded, figuring he was right. “I reckon you can’t wait to meet the girl your brothers want you to marry.”

Hoseok didn’t follow after you, instead watched as you picked up the rabbit and struggled to remove the arrow from its body on your way back to his side. By your tone, he could swear you’d spoken from a place of jealousy, distant as though it may be.

“I find I wouldn’t mind if the trip to Corinth lengthened.”

You looked up once near enough to tell him you would, but the words flew away from your mind the moment your eyes landed on him.

Hoseok was pleased he’d taken this appearance. You were mesmerised, eyes narrowing, likely wondering how you hadn’t noticed until now how attracted you were to him!

Or not. “You’ve a spider crawling up a curl.”

Hoseok was starting to think Hermes and Dionysus were right… The warmth of his divine presence tended to do the job for him, his wit and charm really played a secondary role. Now, he was forced to give up the former, but you, Hoseok feared, were proving to be either immune to the latter or remarkably good at pretending so.

Or maybe it was his fault fully… Just, why the hell did he get so nervous around you?! It was like he couldn't muster a grain of confidence. He’d have to make an effort for the first time not just to flirt, but finish a conversation feeling like he had things under control. That he was in charge.

It wouldn’t help that he wasn’t used to being treated as an equal by a mortal. Much less given commands. ‘Skin the rabbits while I gather some wood’, ‘Burn the fat and bones as a sacrifice to Artemis, will you?’... Even when he’d offered you his share because he, as an immortal, didn’t need food to survive, you’d responded with an assertive ‘Eat’. Not to say he didn’t like it. It was amusing, in a way.

But passing by a small lake fed by a waterfall, Hoseok decided it was his turn.

“Fancy a swim?”

“Sure. And to be fed grapes, while I’m at it,” you chuckled, under the impression Hoseok was joking until you turned around and saw him getting rid of his chiton. Your eyes widened like those of Athena’s owl at the sight of his bare body, looked away only once you’d fought through your shock. “My brother’s life is at stake. If you wish to stay, then this is goodb–”

“Oh, come on, just a quick dive. When was the last time you bathed?”

“Back in Pylos.”

“Thought as much.” You discreetly smelled yourself and at once agreed hygiene shouldn’t be neglected. There was just one thing… and by the way you kept quiet, Hoseok noticed. “What, you’re afraid of water?”

“Not water itself, but drowning.” You played with your fingers, embarrassed to say, “I can’t swim…”

A loud laugh made you snap your head towards its source to see Hoseok approach you naked without any shame. To your own surprise, your feet rooted to the ground instead of stepping back as he promised, “I’ll hold you.”

Never would you have imagined you’d strip naked before a stranger and get in a lake with him, but there was something about him that inspired trust. You knew he wouldn’t take advantage, his gaze keeping away from your private parts proved it so. When the two of you slipped into the water, Hoseok kept a firm grip on your waist, even though you managed to touch the bottom if you stood on your tiptoes. For a second you wished you didn’t, so he could hold you even closer…

“Loosen up, Y/N, you’re as taut as a bowstring,” he said in a low voice, as he was so close he needn’t be loud, and you swallowed hard while nodding.

He next told you to move your limbs about and before you knew it, you were swimming and splashing him and giggling.

The dark began to skew the sky with stars sooner than expected, though, and you blamed the pleasant time spent at the lake for it. You were supposed to sleep in Corinth, where the festival of Aphrodisia was being celebrated, but the city was so far that you were going to miss your ship at dawn!

Luckily, Hoseok had a plan.

While you were picking up some flowers to present to foam-born Aphrodite for lack of a proper offering, he snuck away into the forest, somewhere you wouldn’t hear him summon his kin. A mention of Selene’s name was enough for the goddess to have her white horses land before Hoseok.

Elbow resting on the edge of her chariot and palm holding her jaw, Selene sighed, “I’m busy, Apollo, in case you haven’t noticed. Night doesn’t just come on its own.”

“Speaking of which, I need you to hold back the moon until we get to Corinth, me and–”

“Your priestess, yes.” Selene smirked when Hoseok frowned. “It gets boring up there. One resorts to gazing down, and your lame attempts at seducing this girl provide the funniest distraction.”

“Will you help me, or not?”

Selene laughed, “Gladly.”

And so it was that you reached Corinth before midnight, hair however completely dry as the day had lengthened by many hours. You could piece together no explanation for it, so it had to be what Hoseok mused, that the gods must be making mischief.

Despite the late hour, the streets were crowded with pilgrims who sang hymns to the goddess of love and beauty, and every column of every building was entwined with flowers. The air was also perfumed with the scent of cinnamon but as a priestess, you knew that was to mask the spilled blood of the animals being sacrificed outside the great Temple of Aphrodite, that you entered to leave your modest offering.

Hoseok waited outside, and scoffed when he spotted a familiar face dancing in the crowd, a garland crowning his head. It was the mighty messenger Hermes—or Taehyung, as he liked to address himself when mingling among the mortals in such form.

“Didn’t take you for a faithful follower of Aphrodite’s, little brother,” Hoseok laughed when they stood face to face.

“Well, you know her. She’s likely to welcome me back into her bed if I sing her praises. Literally.” Taehyung looked around to make sure no one was paying attention, made appear his herald’s staff out of thin air. “I hope you haven’t forgotten about our bet? Your priestess will die of old age before you make a move on her.”

“Love isn’t born in a day,” Hoseok retorted in his defence, ignoring Taehyung counting to two with his fingers. “Besides, she’s on a mission of her own, it isn’t currently a prime concern of hers. Be patient, I have no deadline.”

"Even all the time in the world won’t be of help to you, Hoseok.” Taehyung patted his shoulder before joining the dancing crowd again.

Soon, you walked out of the temple and came to a stop in front of Hoseok, too quiet. He frowned.

“What is it?”

You looked everywhere but at him. “She must be waiting for you, the girl you seek to wife.”

Ah, jealous? “I think she’ll be pleased if I keep you company until your ship sets sail tomorrow. Make sure no harm comes to you.”

Since you did want to be with Hoseok for a bit longer, the corners of your mouth quirked into a smile.

The night was spent in a cloud of food, drink, dance, song, and laughter. You loved Jungkook dearly, but it was alleviating to set aside the anxiety suffered for his fate, as well as yours. Wine was good at that, casting away all the bad from one’s mind.

At some point, Hoseok decided it was bedtime. Relying on xenia and the generosity of strangers, he knocked on the first door he saw and a family surely opened it to welcome you in. They showed you to a spare room after some chatting and the second you were alone, you wrapped your arms around Hoseok’s neck and made your lips join.

He was taken aback, but readily licked both your lips before kissing you back ardently, like you were the goddess and he your worshipper. You closed the distance between your bodies to melt into his warm embrace. Hoseok knew you craved him inside, so as a tease, he slipped his tongue in your mouth when you relaxed your jaw and slid it across yours as his cock would. That caused you to moan, and your core pulsate with lust. This might be one of your last nights alive, so why not treat it as such and give in to your desires? To the sweet passion Hoseok stirred inside you?

You would’ve, had he not suddenly pulled back.

Your mouth tried to seek his, even let out a few whines, but he wasn’t having it. Why? Why too did he look like he was suppressing annoyance?

Hoseok did want to savour every sweet bit of you, but what he’d tasted on your tongue was an abundance of Dionysus’ wine. In truth, he only needed take a look at you, so drunk you could barely stand, supporting your weight on him not to stumble. Hoseok sighed.

As a god, he wasn’t subjected to the laws of man. They didn’t apply to him, nor did their morality, so plundering you in that state wasn’t a crime. Mortals were created out of clay to serve the immortals and be playthings to them… and yet Hoseok wanted to earn your love. Not because of the bet, which meant less to him the more time he spent with you, but because he was catching feelings himself.

Besides, none of this was real to begin with. You were just convinced you were going to die, hence why you were doing what you normally wouldn’t.

“Not like this, Y/N.” And carefully, he led you to the bed, where you fell asleep in a matter of minutes.

Your eyes fluttered open when Selene’s sister Eos cast open the gates of dawn.

An ache grounding into your temples, you sat up only to realise the other side of the bed was empty, thanked the gods for it when memories of the previous night resurfaced and embarrassment drowned you. What had you done?

And more urgently, what time was it?

You couldn’t risk missing that ship, so you slapped your own cheek—yes—and pulled yourself together, dismissing every thought that didn’t include Jungkook before joining the family for a quick yet lively breakfast.

The walk to the port was however a quiet one, where neither you or Hoseok seemed to know how to get rid of the awkwardness, and because of that, it was disconcerting when he held your hands once stood by the ship you were to embark, so tenderly like they were injured and he didn’t want to hurt you.

“I want to come with you.”

It took you a second to react. “No. We don’t both need to suffer the wrath of a god.”

“But I won’t let you die.”

You withdrew your hands, smiling wistfully. “My death is not for you to impede.”

Hoseok bit his tongue. “Have faith. We will meet again.”

Sailing away you pondered over how, if you ever did see Hoseok again, it would be as a married man. You’d rather rot in the depths of Hades’ dead kingdom.

For the moment, you prayed Poseidon was in a good mood and his waters remained peaceful as fortunately, your destination was another: the home of the Muses, as the cave in MOUNT PARNASSUS was known to be, and the place where Apollo’s golden bow and arrows were safeguarded when he had no need for them.

Merely crossing the gulf of Corinth would take you a full day, so in the meantime, Hoseok set off to Pylos. He wanted to get to the truth of the matter.

He found your brother guarded only by bronze bars, snuggled up on the cold floor of the palace’s underground cells. Apollo squatted next to him to tuck behind his ear the fluffy dark hair that covered his face, and a whisper of Jungkook’s name was enough to waken him.

Indeed, it was wide awake how he screamed and cowered at the corner of the cell.

“It’s been but four days, the king said I had seven! You can’t execute me yet, whatever the prince says!”

“I’m no executioner, Jungkook. I’m Apollo.”

“The new cook?”

“The Olympian!”

“Oh…” Yes, he should’ve guessed it was absurd for the palace’s new cook to come greet him in his cell. Wait– Did this man say he was Olympian Apollo? Jungkook rubbed the remaining sleep off his eyes and wondered how he could not have recognised those shiny blond curls! “Oh.”

The god barely stifled an eye-roll. “I’m here to hear what happened. Tell me, and know that I’ll see a shadow behind your words if you lie.”

Jungkook gulped. “I was wrongly accused, lord. It is the prince who should be sentenced to death.”

Apollo cocked his head to a side. “The prince?”

“I’m his serving boy. The other day, I overheard him plot against the king with his stepmother. Everybody knows they’re having an affair… Well, everybody but the king, of course. I was going to warn His Grace, but the prince caught me and claimed I was the one behind the plot. The king decided that I’d be executed in four days from now if my older sister Y/N failed to bring him–” Jungkook shut his lips at once.

“My golden arrows.”

Oh, no. He knew of your quest? “Y/N is a priestess of your temple here in Pylos! She’s devoted to you, of all the heavenly gods fears your wrath most!”

“I know.” Apollo stood up and gave him a reassuring smile. “As I know you are telling me the truth.”

At nightfall, you arrived in DELPHI, heart hammering its way through your chest, as on the morrow you’d reach Mount Parnassus and carry through your blasphemous theft.

The nerves were clearly not going to let you sleep, so there was no point in making use of Zeus’ xenia. Instead, you were waiting for the change of guards at the entrance of the great Temple of Apollo—where the high priestess Pythia served as an oracle uttering prophecies under divine possession—so you could sneak in. Once inside, you walked to the end of the naos only to kneel before a tall statue of Apollo that made no justice to his ethereal beauty, and raised your hands into the air with your eyes closed.

“Hear me, child of Leto, he who presides over this temple! If ever I’ve served you in the past, if ever you’ve loved your sister as I love my brother and would do anything for him, grant my prayer and… do take out your vengeance on me. But not tomorrow when I rob you of your arrows, only after I have saved my Jungkook from the sword. Please, heed me!”

“I’ve never known anyone so foolish as to announce to a god her plan to steal from him.”

Your eyes snapped open to see the Pythia lurking in the shadows behind the statue. Shit.

Coming to your feet, you wanted to reach for your quiver and cut her life short before she alerted the guards. You were in a sacred place, but what was one more unforgivable sin?

What stopped you were Apollo’s own lethal weapons, his golden arrows, magically appearing in her hands.

“Phoebus has cursed them. Any who isn’t him and uses them will perish,” the Pythia explained flatly, as if she was hearing his voice in her head and repeating them out loud. “He wants you to give them to your king.”

She handed you the arrows, at which you stared astounded. Apollo knew? Had heard your prayers?

“What of my fate?”

“No harm will come to you by his hand, or any other,” she promised. “You’re under his protection now.”

Tears quickly flooded your eyes and then streamed down your cheeks. Your shaky breath morphed into a laugh and your laugh into a sob, all out of relief. Hoseok randomly crossed your mind, and the next question you didn’t know whether was addressed to the Pythia or yourself. “But why?”

She approached and cupped your cheeks, using her thumbs to wipe your tears gently. Even if you neither knew nor trusted her, you didn’t step back. Her touch was warm, felt strangely familiar…

“Because he’s looked into your heart and seen his light.”

Apollo was done with Hoseok for the moment. Or so he’d thought.

He’d meant to watch you from the clouds save your brother and be done with the ‘tomorrow I may die, so I’ll behave like nothing matters because nothing does’ cast of mind. He wanted to matter to you, to be loved by you.

Alas, his hopes and dreams were crushed.

The fifth day of your quest you spent sailing back to Corinth, but your sixth one, you finished entering Argos. Now, why in Hades would you do that?! Death dwelled in that city, had you forgotten? Or mayhap… you feared not disease, after being told Apollo would protect you.

Alright. He’d make you invulnerable like Achilles, then. No problem. He was about to when he saw two guards suddenly arrest you for no apparent reason in the middle of the street and drag you to the palace. Immediately, Apollo took the appearance of Hoseok and stormed off from Olympus—though really not that bothered in view of the fact that it meant he got to meet you again.

You, however, weren’t sure you were glad to see him. Not there, at least.

“Y/N, what a coincidence!” he joked before the guard manhandling him into the throne room forced him on his knees next to you. “Do you buy your vegetables here too?”

“Who is this?” the queen asked annoyed.

She was standing in front of the two of you, a small crowd of courtiers gathered as an expectant audience that seemed to be about to watch some spectacle. If only you knew what it was about. You’d been shoved there with no explanation, were about to demand one right before Hoseok showed up.

“He says he’s her companion, Your Grace.”

The queen frowned. “But the prophecy spoke of one only…”

Hoseok quelled a frown. Prophecies passed through him, and there was none yet that involved Argos. No, the city was supposed to suffer until he saw fit.

You, on your part, had had enough. Had wasted enough time. “I command you let us go right now! You’ve no reason to detain us!”

The queen scoffed, looking down both at and on you. “You command me, brat? I’d order your death if you weren’t already destined to have your throat slit at the sacrificial altar.”

What? In dismay, you turned to a Hoseok who seemed to not fear the queen of Argos at all, rather looked at her suspiciously.

“Perhaps if you were as kind as to tell us why, Your Grace,” he asked, disdain hidden behind his faked respectful tone. The queen wasn’t blind to it, but let it pass, choosing to just glare at him.

“Over the smallest thing, Apollo has cursed the whole of Argos with a plague. My seer claims the only way to appease his anger is to sacrifice in holy ritual the one person who dares enter the city.”

Hoseok almost laughed. Her seer was a fraud.

“Your Grace!”

Before you could even whip your head around, a guard had snatched the golden arrows from your quiver and walked over to the queen. You tried to stand up to retrieve them, but another guard held you down.

“What have we here?” The queen realised whom the arrows belonged to the second she had a closer look, gasped in shock. “It cannot be! Are these–”

“Mine.”

Everyone, including you, stared at Hoseok in disbelief.

The queen faced him. “So, you’re the thief?” Oh, no, of course! He didn’t know what had happened in Delphi, believed you’d stolen the arrows and would be punished by anyone who found out… Fool. Why would he cover for you? “Well, well. Apollo’s stolen weapons returned and a double human sacrifice… My loyal subjects, tomorrow Argos is saved!”

A loud cheer erupted, one you could still hear from the dark cell you and Hoseok were taken to by guards who then left to celebrate, trusting the bars to do their job.

You joined your palms and forehead with the wall, mumbled, “What use is your protection now that I’m stuck?” Hoseok knew that question was addressed at Apollo. The next one, however, asked as you turned around and walked up to him, was loud and clear and meant for Hoseok. “And what are you doing here? Are you mad?”

He flinched back, confused. Weren’t you happy to see him? “I came for you.”

You wanted to ask ‘What about the plague?’, but what instead came out was, “What about the other girl?”

Other… So you already considered yourself his?

Hoseok gazed into your eyes as he confessed, “My brothers wanted me to meet a girl, and I have.”

Your lips parted slightly. He’d turned down a possible bride in favour of you? He was mad. Mad enough to return whatever feelings you were struggling to suppress. You turned away from him, arms crossed. “A girl who’ll lead you to your death.”

Neither of you was dying tomorrow, Hoseok would sooner kill the whole of Argos than let anyone lay a finger on you.

“A girl who’d love me.”

Frozen in your spot, you daren’t turn around. Love was a strong word, and you’d known this man for just a few days. Eros’ arrow can’t have pierced your skin! Although… you couldn’t deny it must have grazed or scratched it.

“I don’t, I’m a priestess. What happened the other night… was a mistake. I’m sorry, I regret it.”

Since you weren’t looking, Hoseok allowed his lips an ironic smile. He could tell you were lying, trying to convince yourself rather than him. “You can both love Apollo and be in love with me.”

Shocked, you turned around. “Are you asking me to risk my position in order to what, be your lover?”

“It’s the gods who’ve brought us together,” Hoseok explained, walking closer. You held your breath, “who’ve shut the gates of my mind so I can think only of you. I believe the gods wouldn’t put your position in peril.”

And true that was. Priestesses were supposed to be spouses of the deities they served, so once Hoseok revealed his identity, you’d be relieved to learn your vow of chastity hadn’t been broken, as he was the only one it didn’t apply to.

You glanced down at his lips, then shook your head as though resisting a spell. “In my mind, there is only Jungkook.” The cell wasn’t too spacious, but out of stress you still paced around it. “And now we’ll die apart because I trusted a god who may have tricked me.”

Hoseok chuckled in the middle of the deep breath you were taking to calm down.

“You didn’t think I came here without a plan?” He walked over to put his hands on your shoulders and give them a gentle squeeze, putting an end to your pacing. “I’ll do everything in my power to reunite you with your brother. Do you trust me?”

You remembered when he told you to have faith you’d meet again. And you had. Besides, what other choice was there? “I do.”

Hoseok let go of you and went to lie down on the small bed, hands behind his head and eyes closed. “Then we’ll have to wait a couple of hours.”

You stared at him. He really didn’t want to just bed you, was actually looking out for you in a way Apollo was failing to. Or maybe he had sent him… Either way, Hoseok meant not to demand your love but deserve it, making your problems his like you shared a soul and body—and his, you realised then, you no longer wanted to resist.

“A couple of hours?” Hoseok nodded. “Well… it’s cold.”

“It is?”

You sighed, not knowing how to say it. “You once told me any is a small price for a man to keep your bed warm.”

Hoseok opened his eyes before the sentence was over and propped himself up on one elbow. You sat on the edge of the bed, a trembling hand rising that shyly caressed his cheek until he placed his own over it, and pressed a bit harder so you could really feel him, how hot his divine silver blood—known as ichor—was turning. You did, flashes of the night you kissed him making it into your mind. How his lips felt around yours, his tongue inside your mouth, your bodies pushed together…

Both leaned in at the same time, melting in a kiss that led to a night of pleasure dedicated to Aphrodite.

Meanwhile, Dionysus was doing his part.

Having taken the form he liked to call Jimin, he’d pretended to be a cupbearer at the feast the queen of Argos had held to celebrate the end of her punishment. No one noticed he didn’t belong as he poured his special, unmixed wine into the cups of every person in attendance, masking its strong taste with his powers. In a matter of hours, the whole court had lost their senses and passed out where they were, as mortal parties tended to finish in the presence of the god of intoxication.

Satisfied, he skipped his way to the cells, where he found you and Hoseok all cuddled up, skins glowing with the vigour you had loved each other with.

Jimin waved his hand and the cell’s door opened slowly, as though by a draft, but you turned around at once to see no one. “The gods be praised!”

Only seen and heard by a Hoseok who kept gesturing him to leave behind your back, Jimin laughed, “Dionysus, specifically.”

He disappeared then, and you and Hoseok didn’t hesitate to get out of there. What you did hesitate to believe was what your eyes witnessed once, in search of Apollo’s confiscated golden arrows, you entered the banquet hall. A whole court in the arms of Morpheus…

“There they are,” Hoseok whispered not to wake anyone, pointing at the end of the table, where the queen sat and in front of whom the arrows lied.

He walked over to get them, staring at the woman responsible for so much offence. Shielding the action with his body so you wouldn’t see, Hoseok grazed her arm with the tip of one of his sharp arrows, drawing blood. That was enough for her breath to still, her life to end.

You made it safely outside the city, near the house of the elderly couple who’d hosted you days past, even, but at some point you looked up at the moon and halted your rushed pace a tad abruptly, forcing Hoseok to do so as well since you were holding hands.

He frowned. “I don’t think this is the time to sightsee, Y/N.”

“But what’s the point?” you cried. “Pylos is more than two days away. There’s no way we can get there before sunrise.”

Hoseok looked up at the sky behind you, smiled. “Indeed. Though we might get there at the same time.”

You turned around for a peach-coloured sunlight to filter through the clouds and blind you.

Hold on, how could this be? It had been night for only some hours! And yet, before the two of you landed her chariot Selene’s sister, the rosy-fingered Eos. You held Hoseok’s hand tightly. In the presence of a goddess, one could not help but feel tense.

“You, child. Are you Y/N of Pylos?”

“I am, l-lady.”

She smiled kindly. “I’ve been sent to give you a ride, Y/N. I believe your king expects you.”

Relief washing over, you grinned at Hoseok, who caressed the back of your hand with his thumb. “This must be Apollo’s doing!”

“Must be, yes.”

You turned back to Eos and nodded. “Off we go, then, lady.”

In about twenty minutes, people in front of the palace of Pylos were making space for the white horses to land their chariot.

Everyone stared in awe. Doubtless they’d thought you were going to fail, yet here you were escorted by a goddess, with Apollo’s golden arrows in your quiver, and… a foreign man holding your hand?

Once Eos had flown away to drag along the dawn to the West, you discerned on the judgemental faces of the Pylians the conclusions they had jumped to. Conclusions that were correct. You had given your virginity to a stranger, become a whore in the eyes of the world…

Hoseok was the one who let go of the hand he’d been holding ever since you lay together, and you missed his touch right away, like it was the air your lungs needed to breathe. He put some distance between you and with a respectful bow of his head—that was just for show—said, “After you, priestess.”

Eager to hold Jungkook in your arms again, you nodded, then led the way to the throne room.

The second you walked in, all heads turned to the king, who was sat on his throne on the top of some steps, looking at you in the same shocked manner everyone was. Nobody dared say a word. The only sounds in the room were first that of your feet taking you in front of the steps, Hoseok closely behind, and second that of you reaching into your quiver to get hold of the arrows.

The king leaned forward as though spellbound by the beauty of the deadly weapons, without taking his eyes off them ordered a guard, “Bring the boy.”

You turned to smile at Hoseok and he smiled back, but once you’d directed your attention to the door, he continued glaring at the greedy king. He obviously believed luck was on his side, given you’d come back from a suicide mission with a prize for him, but he’d soon learn the gods were not to be fucked with.

“Y/N!” Jungkook exclaimed as the guard dragged him into the throne room. Having eyes only for your brother, you didn’t notice the prince and his stepmother arrived next and took the king’s side while sharing worried looks. Hoseok did, sensed they feared Jungkook would reveal their plot now that he wasn’t going to be executed. You were about to go make sure he was alright, but the king’s voice stopped you.

“Uh-uh. The arrows first.”

Apollo’s curse in mind, you carefully presented them to him. Hoseok watched as he examined them while you ran to embrace Jungkook free of impediment, then passed them on to his son.

Who wasted no time in stabbing his neck with one of them.

Gasps and screams tore the silence apart, echoing as if they came from the stage of a theatre. In fairness, you might as well be in a tragedy play.

Shielding Jungkook with your body out of instinct, you kept still not to draw the gloating prince and his stepmother’s attention, eyes wandering to a Hoseok who otherwise walked over to you without a care for the blood crime just committed. The murder of one’s relatives was against the natural order, punished by the Erinyes themselves. Fortunately for the prince, he wouldn’t be tormented by the goddesses of vengeance, as the curse was already doing its work, causing him to choke in the midst of a speech in which he was declaring himself the new king of Pylos.

To everyone’s confusion but yours, he fell down the steps, lifeless before reaching the floor. His stepmother and lover shrieked, knelt beside him to try to shake him awake, but to no avail. It was then when she found you among the courtiers and through her tears and grief, glared at you.

“What have you done?!” she shouted, Hoseok alone noticed, surreptitiously curling her fingers around the shaft of one of the golden arrows scattered about. “I’ll have your head for this!”

What followed happened so quickly that you had little time to react.

Arrow raised in a fist, the queen lunged herself at you, but Hoseok stopped her right before she reached you by grabbing her wrist, and as she fought to free herself, he received a small cut on the hand. Eyes wide with horror, you gasped.

No.

No, no, no, no…

“Is his blood silver?” Jungkook whispered to himself, and after a second his words transformed from a distant, incoherent echo to a clear question. Upon realising he was right, you frowned.

Hoseok snatched the arrow from the queen and she stumbled backwards, glancing at the guards.

“Come to the aid of your queen, I command you!”

Despite their reluctance, they were going to, but froze when Hoseok nocked the arrow on his bow and this one turned from wooden to gold before their eyes… and not just that.

Something changed about his appearance. Was it the hair? The eyes? You couldn’t tell. It was subtle enough to miss it yet substantial enough to know that your Hoseok was actually a god in disguise.

No other than Apollo, in all his glory!

As you blinked a few times trying to make sense of it, he aimed his arrow at the queen, and playing deaf to her pleas, slew her. Of course, his curse wouldn’t apply to an immortal.

When he turned around, a sea of courtiers fell to their knees, but he cared only about you, standing there in shock. Suddenly taking pity, he didn’t look forward at all to telling you he’d tricked you because of a bet…

A man thankfully rose to his feet and approached him before he had the chance to open his mouth. “Heavenly lord! You’ve blessed Pylos with your presence to free us from a family unworthy of our throne. Tell us, what can we ever do to thank you?”

Hoseok– or Apollo? This was tough, since you could somehow see both at the same time... Well, whoever, replied, “For now, consign the bodies of these three to the UNDERWORLD with all proper rites and burn them.”

Had Hoseok’s voice always been honeyed? His words certainly were... Though looking back, he’d never lied to you, just tip-toed around the truth. Didn’t make you feel any better, but he was a god. What an insignificant mortal felt must be irrelevant to him.

The courtier nodded, followed along with everyone the guards who carried the dead royal family outside of the throne room. Only you and Jungkook remained. And him.

“Leave us, little brother,” you ordered softly.

“But–”

“Listen to your sister. Fear not, I won’t harm her.”

Jungkook trusted that, he just didn’t want to leave your side ever again. However, it became clear to him that defying a god was the stupidest idea when he met his eyes. There was a subtle threat reflected on them.

He didn’t need to be told twice to go then, and the silence he left behind was beyond tense.

You daren’t look at Apollo now that you were alone. The man you’d spoken so casually to, bossed around, shouted at, made love with. But when you did muster some courage, you realised he didn’t seem so different in appearance, it was just that you weren’t blind to his splendour anymore.

He beckoned you to come closer and you obeyed with your face cast down as, would he punish you for doing the king’s bidding and stealing from him, after all? To your relief, he only raised your chin gently to make you look at him, but your eyes instead landed on the small cut on his hand, and without thinking you held it to check whether it was deep, careful not to touch his blood as ichor was deadly to mortals.

“Y-You’re hurt…”

“This little thing?” Apollo smiled at your concern, as it was no more than a scratch. He blew his divine breath on the wound and in seconds, it healed completely. “I suppose I owe you an explanation.”

“You owe me nothing, lord.”

“Hoseok is fine. I rather like the sound of it when you say it.” He sighed when you just nodded. “We didn’t meet by chance, Y/N. Hermes and Dionysus dared me to seduce the first mortal my eyes set upon without revealing my identity.” Oh, so worse than you’d imagined. “It didn’t occur to me that you’d beat me to it.”

Your lips parted in confusion. “To seducing you? But I’ve done nothing but disrespect Apollo– I mean, Hoseok– Uh, you…”

He chuckled, “Believe me, I know. Without meaning to, you’ve bewitched a god well enough to make him overlook hubris. Do you know what that means?”

You shook your head.

“It means I am in love with you, and that I want you to be mine.” You avoided his gaze out of shyness, but he cupped your cheeks and kissed you like he had done back in that cell less than an hour ago, taking your breath away—only this time, you felt the heat of the sun itself on your lips. He pulled back only to whisper against them, “You know I do not lie.”

You did know that. But could you forgive so easily being deceived over a bet? Even the god of whom you were a priestess?

Truth was, it wasn’t just the fear of what then seemed to be a certain death by the hands of Apollo that drew you to his embrace the night before you left Corinth. Neither was it just lust in Argos. He’d earned your love, so much so that you’d agreed to become his lover, were likely going to quit being a priestess at some point to be wed to him. The bet was won long ago, he knew he needn’t claim your maidenhood for it, and yet he’d stuck around.

A different face mattered not.

He loved you, and you loved him.

“I am already yours.”

Hoseok hummed pleased before you kissed him, and you felt his smile grow under your lips. It made you smile too, and the two separated to laugh. Then, he headed to the steps to pick up his golden arrows and put them in his quiver.

“You’re leaving?”

“I must leave for Olympus. I have responsibilities I’ve set aside this past week, but I’ll come back whenever you utter a prayer to me. I promise.”

He saw the disappointment on your face and placed a hand over your belly, making you frown. “Intimacy with the gods always bears fruit. I can already feel twins growing inside you, and I cannot wait to raise them alongside you.”

At the thought of your children playing around the forest the same way you and Jungkook once did—or Apollo and Artemis, at that—you couldn’t help but smile again. Not to mention that you would not only preserve your position as a priestess, but also be revered for giving a god descendants.

Hoseok kissed you one last time, and when you opened your eyes, he was gone, but his warmth remained.

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