donnalawliet

[donnalawliet]

Hermes is a mommy's boy

[donnalawliet]

The messenger of the gods has his own letter to send <3

the lovely lovely letter was written by none other that @_isaiahwinters on twitter, please check out his work!!

The full translated thing:

[donnalawliet]

I will fall in love with you (all over again) HermesxTiresias fanfic: Part one

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The prophet Tiresias chooses to be reborn after centuries in the Underworld, much to the dismay of Hermes. He gets reborn into Theresa, a demigod who stumbles into the world with no knowledge of who she is. By pure luck, she encounters more demigods like her, slowly discovering her purpose through friendships and the many highs and lows they provide. But will she be able to discover what brought her there in the first place?

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Golden ichor stained the lips of the shade. Normally, souls were given animal blood to regain their consciousness and form, but the blood of the gods did so much more. Slowly, the robes the shade was wearing became just as solid as his long braided hair, his face, his hands and the rest of his body. And as his thoughts became less of a mess, he realized who was standing in front of him. Visions of a staff with two snakes wrapped around it flashed through his mind, a mischievous smile and the soft flap of wings.

“Feeling better, darling?“, the god asked him as the shade pulled away from the bleeding cut on his hand, a wound he had caused himself. The dead man almost appeared like he did in life, down to the blindfold covering his eyes. He wiped at his mouth, as if he was unworthy of the golden color covering his face.

“You don’t have to keep doing that, my Lord Hermes“, he whispered and bowed his head in a sign of respect, “Other blood suffices just fine if you wish to talk to me.“

Hermes shrugged, sitting down in the air as if it were solid ground. His smile had refused to fade the entire time, savoring the first moments of consciousness of the man in front of him.

“Only the best for you“, he mused and the wound was gone as soon as it had appeared, “Gotta have you all awake if you want to receive my delivery, right, Tiresias?“

Normally, he visited the long dead prophet whenever he came down to talk to his uncle. Whether that involved bringing messages of Zeus, souls of perished travelers or flowers from his wife when she was with her mother. Hades always enjoyed the visits from his nephew, so he allowed him to also visit Tiresias afterwards for as long as he wished. For centuries, no mortal had come down to visit the prophet for his wisdom, so he stayed alone in his cave for a while, with only the Messenger god as occasional company.

Tiresias nodded slowly and reached out his hands in anticipation of the delivery he had requested. He had never before requested anything of Hermes, the god only brought him flowers or remnants of the Overworld when he felt like it. Which was another way of saying every time he visited. Maybe it was payment for the time he had helped his descendant Odysseus, so many years ago, maybe it was the god’s way of showing his appreciation. Never had he asked for a prophecy, just for normal conversations. 

Very slowly and carefully, Hermes handed him a thermos, filled with a milky liquid. The blind man brought it up to his nose to sniff at it, detecting the subtle scent of honey, rosemary and what he could only assume was the ever so light hint of the poppy flower. The water of the river Lethe, the river of Forgetfulness, the domain of Hypnos, the god of sleep. Hermes was silent, simply watching as Tiresias swirled the liquid in the container.

“I suppose there’s no way I’ll get you to change your mind on this, huh?“

For once, all mischief and giggles were gone from the god’s voice. Instead, there was silent dread and fear of what was to come. It had already been there when the prophet had asked for the water during their last visit, the intention never spoken, but quite clear. 

There was only one reason why a shade would want Lethe water. A soul could only leave the confines of the Underworld in a newly born body if its slate was wiped clean of all prior memory. For over two thousand years, Tiresias had stayed in his cave, so Hermes had somehow assumed that he would stay there forever, watching through his visions as his descendants continued the line that he had started so long ago with his three daughters. The girls he had given birth to while under the curse of Hera, the children he had loved so much it made his still heart ache whenever he mentioned them. But apparently, Hermes had been wrong.

“I have to do it“, Tiresias whispered, his hands tightening around the container as if it were made of gold, which it somehow was, “I see it clearly. I cannot see my own future, but I know I’m no longer needed down here.“

Hermes rubbed his eyes hard, for just a moment golden tears seemed to stain his fingers. Besides other gods, the shade had been his only constant for centuries, the only one who had stayed humble and didn’t get drunk with power. His so called gift was as much of a curse, to see the past and future of everyone else.

“What about me?“, Hermes  turned towards him abruptly and he sounded like a whining child, “I might need you. And if you do this, I might never see you again, you’ll effectively be gone and I-“

His rambling was quickly shut up by Tiresias’ lips upon his own. If he focused, he could still faintly taste his own ichor that he had used to breathe life back into him, just for a while. For what felt like ages, they stayed conjoined like Castor and Pollux, neither of them needing air to survive.

“Fear not, son of Maia“, the prophet whispered just an inch away from his lips. He had never called Hermes son of Zeus, always referencing his mother when he slipped back into the custom of the Ancient Greeks. 

“I do not know what the Fates hold in store for me. But you will find a way to encounter me again in the next life. You are smart, gifted beyond all other gods“, he smiled as the god untied his blindfold, “And I love you. I am from Helios and together we become whole.“

Upon opening his eyes, Hermes was faced by beauty that not even Aphrodite could rival. The iris of the prophet no longer fully held its former blue color with green specks, glazed over with silver, like the early morning mist on the sea. Though Tiresias had never seen the sea, never leaving his town of Thebes except for when he died, the messenger god was fully convinced that an ancestor of his must have come from Poseidon. He couldn’t otherwise explain the resemblance. Slowly but surely, Hermes nodded, covering his lover’s hands with his own.

The prophet took that touch as the clearance to continue, taking a deep breath. This was a big step for him too and part of him was scared.

“So, I just drink it?“, he asked, more asking for reassurance than anything else. He had seen how it worked, yet it was different to see it in visions and to actually do it. 

Hermes nodded once more before remembering that his darling, despite his future sight, was still blind.

“Yes. You drink every last drop, then I’ll take you to Eileithyia and you’ll be reborn. Really simple, darling“, he smiled widely, though he sounded a bit choked up. Deep down, he hoped that at the last second, the shade would change his mind. 

But instead, Tiresias kissed him one last time before bringing the thermos up to his lips. With every gulp, more of his old life faded away. His childhood of playing with nymphs in the forest next to Thebes, who he called his aunts, before helping his father with herding the sheep. His curse by Hera, which caused him to live seven years as a woman, where he bore his husband three children. The incident with Athena that caused him to loose his ability to see, only to be given the gift of past and future sight. All of those memories flooded into the Lethe. 

After what felt like forever, Tiresias dropped the container and fell backwards into Hermes’ arms, unconscious and his expression peaceful. Instead of bringing him straight to his half sister, the messenger god carefully traced his lover’s face. Every imperfection that he had called perfect.

“If I had just met you earlier when you were still alive“, he whispered and placed one final time on his forehead, “I would have made you a god. You would have been my Ariadne, my Psyche, my everything.“

He steeled his expression after that, taking off flying to fulfill his promise, keeping the soul nestled in his arms without once looking behind him. If he had, he maybe would have noticed the last few drops of the Lethe water flowing out of the thermos. 

[donnalawliet]

Just had this meme from my “The importance of being earnest“ play lying around. Enjoy!

[donnalawliet]

Hermes x Tiresias (pt. 2)

Part 1 here (I went a bit long with this one, but it needed to feel conclusive)

Hermes swooped down into the dark lands once more. He hummed to himself, breezing past the moans of the souls beneath him. The bright colors he wore made him shine against the the shadows. He flew and looked all around. The prophet, however, could not be found. Hermes stopped for a moment. "Now where could that little recluse be?" Off in the distance, he saw the banks of a small pool of water and a figure sitting there. "Ah, there we go!"

As he got closer, Hermes saw Tiresias kneeling. His staff sat on the ground beside him. Tiresias faced out towards the water as if he was looking at the pool. His hands rested in his lap. Hermes didn't want to go farther at first. It would have been wise to leave the prophet to his sombre reflections. Tiresias always looked so peaceful like this. But Hermes spoke anyways.

"Heyy there, darling!" Hemers exclaimed. He laid on the air on his stomach with his legs up, kicking as he talked. His head rested on his folded hands. "How's it going? Did you miss me? I bet you missed me."

"You've been gone for six months' time," Tiresias said.

"Yeah, well I was busy, you know how humans are," Hermes said, with his hands waving about. "Always running around, all like 'Help us please, Hermes, we need your guidance', and you know I can't say no to people like that."

Tiresias sighed, his shoulders dropping. He tilted his head towards the god. "You don't have to lie to save your hubris. I understand why you were gone. I saw your true self that day."

Hermes scoffed. He thought about how quickly he left. He probably thinks I couldn't care less, that I'm just some pretentious prick. I mean I know I am, but… if that's all he's going to see… He crossed his arms and leaned on the rocks beside him. "And what gave that away, do you think?" Hermes asked.

"Your eyes," said Tiresias, turning to face him. He paused. He found it hard to find his breath. "I looked to the past and saw them."

The god's face dropped. His eyes fell frozen over his friend. "I- I didn't think-"

"You spoke of compassion, of bringing down hope in a place where none seems to grow. And in your hopes, you found a cold requital. Y-" He went to say more, but found his words failing. He looked straight on past Hermes. "You spoke of love… romance everlasting…" Tiresias turned his head down to the pool, gripping his robe. He grimaced though he did not see his reflection. "I hope you will forgive my ignorance, my god," he said softly.

Hermes placed his hand over his mouth. The shadow over the god's eyes had brightened some. Devastated sympathy washed over his face. "Oh," he sighed. He flew in lower and closer. "Oh dear, of course I would forgive you."

He floated down, gently stepping onto the ground, kneeling by Tiresias. There they sat without speaking. All they heard were the low hums of the wind whisking by. There they sat, still as the stones that surrounded them. At times, the god went to console his worshipper. At times, his words found no sound. When he saw how tense the prohpet was, he remembered what other gods had done. Tiresias had faced punishment before. And though he could see the future, there were many paths it could take. Hermes looked down at his hands as he rubbed them together.

"Listen," he said at last, "I may not be the best god, or the most perfect in any light. But I want you to know that I would never, ever, do anything to hurt you. I… I care about you a lot, and I was wrong to hide that from you." As the god spoke, Tiresias loosed his shoulders. Hermes gave a short laugh. "I'm not even sure you like me at all in that regard. But, at least you can know I mean well, and…"

Hermes trailed off, his words falling short. Tiresias let go of his robe and faced the god. He sat silent for a moment.

"What I would give to see your eyes right now," Tiresias said. Hermes looked up with his brow raised. The prophet smiled. "Though I'm sure they're just as beautiful now as they were then."

The god's face grew flushed. But before he could refute the compliment, he watched Tiresias raise his hands towards his hood.

"So at the very least," he said. "I'll show you mine." He let the hood fall from his head. White curls of hair were revealed, bright against the dark that surrounded them. His hands moved to untie the band around his eyes. But instead of letting it fall, he froze.

Hermes tilted his head. "Would you like some help d- Tiresias?"

The prophet said nothing, but gave a slow nod. Hermes reached over and gently held his hands. Tiresias let out a short breath he had been holding. The god guided his hands lower, going slow. As the band fell, they revealed eyes of grey with a thin ring of amber in the center, as sunlight peering over storm clouds. Hermes paused. The shadows over his face fell in full. He stared and sighed in awe.

"Gods, you're gorgeous," he said softly.

Tiresias frowned. "Why must you taunt me like this?"

"I'm not, honest. I do really think you're wonderful and beautiful and…" In a lower whisper, he said, "Gods, I want to kiss you."

"What?" Tiresias took his hands back.

"I'm sorry!" Hermes said, his face flushed. "I didn't mean to startle you like that. I just- I was looking at you and I just kinda said that out loud and I didn't mean to, it just came out and I, well…" He rubbed his hands together with a nervous look. "I won't if you don't want me to and I understand! If you don't want to, I mean. But… may I?"

Tiresias simply stared at first. He sat frozen, hands coiled back. Apprehension filled the air about them. After a moment, Tiresias took a deep breath and let it go just as slow. "…Do as you wish."

"A-are you sure? I don't want you doing this for me. I want to make sure you want this too."

The prophet's hands clutched his robe once more. He looked to the ground. "I do want this."

Hermes sat up, his face raised with delight. He inched closer. Reaching his hand out, he lifted the prophet's face to meet his. Tiresias looked at him with nervousness, yet did not move. Hermes leaned in, closed his eyes, and gently kissed him. In that moment, the prophet saw not time nor space, but felt the world in his heart. In that moment, the god heard not a prayer, but praised the soul before him. And in that moment, the only thing that mattered was the sacred touch upon their lips.

The two parted. They stayed just inches away. Hermes looked down with care at his love. Tiresias sighed, looking up at the god with reverence. He said in a whisper, "I haven't felt such bliss in ages."

Hermes gave a soft smile. "Well then," he said, "would you like some more?"

Tiresias nodded and Hermes graced his lips again. The god raised his hands to hold the prophet's face with gentleness. Tiresias reached out to hold the god in return. There they knelt before each other in this act of worship. By the pool of water in a far off nook in the Underworld, they could be found. And it was there in that dark cave they found hope in each other. They found hope in the world of gods.

@nothing-impt hope you don't mind the tag, finished the one part I reblogged from you

[donnalawliet]

Fanfic writers I will get on my knees for one of y’all to write some Tiresias/Hermes action 🧎🧎🧎

[donnalawliet]

I see a song of past romance

I see the sacrifice of man

I see portrayals of betrayal

…and a brother‘s final stand

I see you on the brink of death

I see you draw your final breath

I see a man who gets to make it home alive…

but it‘s no longer…you.

[donnalawliet]

I see a song of past romance

I see the sacrifice of man

I see portrayals of betrayal

…and a brother‘s final stand

I see you on the brink of death

I see you draw your final breath

I see a man who gets to make it home alive…but it‘s no longer you.

I see your palace covered in red…

…faces of men who had long believed you‘re dead

I see your wife with a man who is haunting…a man with a trail of bodies.

[donnalawliet]

Unpopular opinion, but if I got asked to choose the most beautiful goddess of them all, I would choose Persephone.

Because even if Athena, Hera and Aphrodite killed me for it, Hades would maybe give me a high five when I arrive down there and it wouldn‘t start a damn war!

[donnalawliet]

After Thor mocked everyone by getting them to attempt to lift his hammer, Clint decided to bring forth a challenge of his own.

“Who in here can string my bow and shoot an arrow through the holes of twelve axes?“

All of them lost.

[donnalawliet]

You can judge the quality of an adaption of Greek Mythology by how much of a prick Zeus is portrayed as.

Change my mind.

[donnalawliet]

[donnalawliet]

I think I just met Hob Gadling on the bus…

[donnalawliet]

POV: a European in an American grocery store

“Have you asked yourself what‘s the price you might pay?“

[donnalawliet]

Yep, that‘s him.

is THIS your man? [shows an image of a malnourished injured exhausted man with big sad eyes looking up at the camera with blood smeared all over his face and mouth. and he is visibly trembling]

[donnalawliet]

Look, I love the Sandman with all my heart, along with all of @neil-gaiman ‘s works.

But I advise you not to watch it right before going to sleep. The dreams I had were…quite odd, to say the least…

[donnalawliet]

I present to you: older brothers who work with the government and their neurodivergent little brothers.