#zephyr is from a god of wind

[ryn-halo26]

Paper Aeroplanes

Featuring, (1st img)ocs Zephyr and Ernts, (2nd img) Nikola and Yahoel/pre-turned Lovely and Angel

[orcelito]

Came up with a last name for my new dnd character hehehe

Ceferino Martín... it has a certain cadence to it, I think.

[vampireistic]

failed replaced!MC AU

ཐི synopsis: diavolo has sent down a brand new human exchange student! one that, unfortunately, seems to be very keen on stealing all the limelight for themselves…with such pathetic results it’s almost endearing.

ཐི feat. demon bros

ཐི warnings: mentions of blood/injury, second person

ཐི a/n: yanked this idea from @squeakyducky ! ٩( ᐛ )و named the human exchange student “notus” after the greek god of the south wind because in the comic the MC is called “zephyr” after the god of the west wind (not directly in opposition of one another in mythology but i thought it would be fitting). + also this is kinda long…(;_;)

You weren’t upset about having a new human exchange student, no-one really was, but just the gut feeling that Diavolo was going to throw you in as their guide was really starting to irk you (having to deal with several argumentative debate-lords thirsty for your attention doesn’t give you much energy to deal with newbies).

Who knew though? Maybe this was exactly what you needed; a break from all the fantasy in the world for a touch of realism. A touch of home.

However, soon as that portal twinkled to reveal a rather attractive human figure bursting with confidence, your latent arcane abilities smelled trouble. But then again, you were rarely right about first glance opinions on people, maybe this was just another instance?

Ok, well, when you tried going up to introduce yourself you were met with a glare so maybe you weren’t so wrong after all. Benefit of the doubt, you repeat to yourself. You remember being particularly snappy to people within your first arrival - it’s natural instinct! I mean the brother’s also threatened to eat you on the first day here, perhaps they’re just naturally standoffish.

“This is Notus, our newest human exchange student! Please be sure to give them a warm welcome.” Diavolo’s voice boomed across the council hall, eyes gleaming with excitement. Like the first time, the brothers introduce themselves one by one, each a little more on edge than the last - maybe they felt that weird energy too?

Whatever, you pushed those thoughts aside for the time being and took on the role as the newest babysitter for a human that seemed to have a much unnecessary distance while walking next to you.

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It started off fine:

Occasional misplacement of your items; an untied shoelace that makes you trip (with Mammon getting a heart attack as he pulls you up by your wrist); messing up an elixir you were sure that you measured correctly; and opening your bag to find your homework gone.

Childish antics that you tried your best to push blame onto either your own forgetfulness or a misplaced prank that was meant to mess with Lucifer. But somehow, it got so much worse - and that little demonic human decided to finally take fault of their pranks by flaunting it off with pride.

“Oh, MC?” Notus caught your attention with a double tap on your shoulder. “Did you enjoy the nature reserve?” Mammon tilted his head to the side, confusion scrunching his face as he looked over at you.

“It was really lame, Thirteen would’ve done better.” Of course you were not referring to an actual excursion, no, you mean the wild animals that had magically found themselves a snuggly home in your bed as well as the plethora of Devildom-specific deadly mushrooms and herbs that replaced your old plant pots.

“Hah? What are you two yappin’ about?” Mammon huffed, clearly annoyed that he wasn’t part of this big secret that you two seemed to share. Notus smugly cuddled up to him, arms wrapping around his bicep a little too tight. “Oh it’s nothing! Just a little…gift, I got MC as a thank you for being such a great guide!”

“Oi! How come I never got anythin’ from ya when I had to babysit?” His brows furrow as he clearly attempts to, rather nicely, shrug off the unwanted attention. This is the first time you’ve seen Mammon look so visibly uncomfortable - clearly oblivious to such a fact, Notus continued snuggling themselves closer, trailing their fingers up and down Mammon’s arm.

Of course, you ended up telling all of this Lucifer, to which he implemented a special spell on your lock so no sneaky human that’s barely acquainted with magic could unlock, with the reassurance that if these “pranks” and unwanted behaviours escalate, it would be taken to Lord Diavolo directly.

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Mammon was an obvious first victim for this weird power trip of a game - he’s as kind as a lamb and just the teeniest bit dumb (lovingly so, you reassure him) - but somehow the antics got more assertive and the targets much more hazardous. Satan. Honestly at this point, all you could feel was pity as you sat in the living room, nose buried in a book that Solomon had instructed you to study.

Notus had lived alongside you for a little over two weeks now, and while those small pranks continued, this is the first time you’ve seen them take on an “opponent” that would be way too much to chew. Sliding onto the couch with a careless saunter, Notus cozied themselves up into a cushion right near Satan’s arm, their breath basically ghosting over his neck. His face twitched.

“What?” Satan scowled, a face you haven’t seen in a while crunching his usually stoic expression to a frown.

“Sataan, can you please help me study? I’m struggling in Seductive Speechcraft and need a bit of…” their hand awkwardly inches closer to his hair, “guidance.”

“Go find a book or ask your lecturer.” He aids somewhat clamly, before that mask slips off momentarily to threaten them: “Don’t bother me, you’ll regret it.”

Well, that ended quicker than you expected. Guess even the ever so bold exchange student cowers at the icy glare from the Avatar of Wrath? You can’t help but giggle from where you sat, to which Notus immediately looks up for, facing twisted in an ugly scowl.

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After the failure that didn’t even really begin that was the day before, Notus went for someone much more gullible and easy to please. The favourite orange-haired glutton. Offering him a massive, drool-worthy sponge cake from the human world that they swear, “MC asked me to deliver!” He wasted no time in scarfing down the citric frosting soon as that familiar melodic sound of your name hit his ears.

Beelzebub isn’t known to be someone who’s reluctant to not eat things - unless it’s Mammon’s or Solomon’s sacrilegious cooking - but in this case he wished he could control himself when it came to things that look and smelt promising. Because soon as that icing coated his tongue, his belly grumbled with a heinous rage. Not one born from hunger, no, but rather nausea. Thankfully, Beel’s a big dude who can handle pretty much anything, so it’s not like whatever poison or foul-tasting potion that was slipped between the buttercream did him any damage (apart from ruining his mood), but nonetheless, he felt horrible and got a lengthy scolding from Belphie to boot.

He doesn’t blame you, you might’ve just messed up somewhere and that’s ok! Beel sets the rest of the cake aside with a little warning label that it made him feel ill and if it did him, it could probably kill anyone else, before scurrying off to find an actual bite to eat. Guilt did gnaw at him for a while because, normally, he’s easily able to eat anything you make since you make it with so much love! But Beel can also recognise foul play when he sees it and also comfortably assess that the icing used wasn’t mixed in the way you do it.

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These little instances stopped for a while, which made you foolishly believe that perhaps they learnt their lesson and decided to turn in for the better. Notus manages to surprise you once again - instead of targeting the brothers, the attention comes back to you. The original plan was; conjure up a curse on your pillow that forces you to have perpetual nightmares, which henceforth makes you irritable and hopefully slip up in front of the brothers, preferably make you so grouchy that you say something irredeemable.

What factor Notus failed to account for is the fact the brothers also LOVE your room, and a person who specifically loves stealing shit from you is Belphegor, who so unfortunately kidnapped that one pillow ridden with a curse while stumbling into your room with a drowsy head.

The House of Lamentation isn’t known for being quiet, so the bickering downstairs over breakfast overwhelmed the space per usual, but soon as those thumps of heavy footsteps echoed down the flight of stairs connected to the twin’s room - the house went eerily silent. An overly irritated Belphie ghosts into the room with darker eyebags than normal, his face hauntingly pale with a vein popping from his forehead, body limply dragging itself.

Notus felt the hairs on the back of their neck stand up as Belphie saunters behind them, looming over like an owl would a mouse before growling: “Do you always ruin the things you touch, or is this a hobby?” Belphie may be the youngest and therefore the weakest, but when it comes to anything dream and curse related, he will know exactly who’s behind it. And if you hadn’t taught him the slightest bit of mercy, he was sure Notus’ skin would serve Asmodeus as a nice handbag.

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Speaking of the jewel Asmodeus, Notus’ technique was much more…social sabotage based. Spreading a vile rumor around RAD that you made a disparaging comment about Asmodeus’ character was a sure fire way to get some sort of hate train going. Rumours spread fast around RAD, especially when concerning one of the Devildom’s most infamous partygoers, after all - and the drama was sure to escalate when the oddly beloved MC was involved. Notus devilishly giggled to themselves, before knocking on Asmodeus’ room, hands clasped together in faux prayer.

The door swings open to reveal Asmo adorned with silver jewellery that coiled together like moonlight kissed webs, earrings curling into shiny heart shaped crystals that he seemed to still be putting in. With a raise of a brow he smiled politely: “Yes, hon?”

“I saw the awful things MC said about you! I’m so sorry…you must be going through so much pain,” Notus sniffles, that drama class they took back in Year 9 really paying off for once. “If it’s any consolation I think you’re amazing…I mean even all your jewellery know looks like it was practically designed with your image in mind, it’s so glorious!”

Guess they took Satan’s advice after all.

Asmo is kind. Somewhat - ish…But not when it comes to people that use cheap tricks against his beloveds. Sure, the flattery was great, but appreciation is always better when it’s genuine and sincere, specifically your praise was something his vain heart sought afer. “Aw dear,” Asmodeus cooed, hands cupping Notus’ face gently, an act that makes them smile a little unnervingly. “If you knew me at all you’d know I designed these, quite recently in fact.”

Shit.

Notus felt their face heat up in embarrassment, hands suddenly clammy with sweat. Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t feel so great to be caught in a scorpion’s tail. “Sweetie,” he laughs, patting Notus’s shoulder with mock sympathy. “You could never turn me against MC. They’re real, and you’re just…trying too hard, aren’t you?”

The grip on Notus’ face suddenly tightens, that orange hue in Asmodeus’ eyes tinting a more saturated shade. “Feel free to say whatever you wish about me, but utter another word about my MC, and I’ll drain your marrow and leave your bones bare of sinews.”

A not so nice reminder that bloodlust is still a form of lust.

That backfired spectacularly. Instead of you getting bombarded with hate and being shred apart in anything you posted, it was the newest exchange student that was the prime highlight of what desperation and pathetic self-esteem looked like. Comments ranged from anything like:

“Lord…this is just embarrassing for them lol”

“thanks for the tutorial on social suicide <3”

“an attempt was made…but it should’ve been with a rope.”

Much to you and the brother’s greatest dismay, the forum that was freely spouting random comments about the situation was gradually shut down under Diavolo’s leadership. He did find it the teeniest bit funny though…

──────────────────────

In naming pathetic self-esteem, a particular water dweller comes to mind: Leviathan. He was going to be a tricky one to lure (said in a hopeful manner as if the others weren’t total failures). Not particularly because he’s the third oldest, making his raw power single-handedly capable of wiping Notus away from existence. No, it was the depressing fact that he’s a recluse that seethes to himself whenever you giggle at a joke someone other than him has made.

Although, they did manage to misuse his social awkwardness to their advantage - by acting shy and nervous as they sweetly ask if they can also join the gaming session with you and him. Levi chose a multiplayer dungeon crawler, the kind where cooperation is key — and where you certainly have excelled before. Notus, however, had other plans.

Small, inconsequential mistakes didn’t bother Levi too much…you and him were good enough for the time being, but by level, these “mistakes” of theirs just spiralled uncontrollably. Taking up important loot meant for you, and even using rare healing potions on themselves at the wrong time, leaving your character on the brink of death.

“Oh no!” Notus gasped, hand to their mouth. “I didn’t mean to—uh, sorry, Levi! I guess I’m just not used to such a complicated game.” They glanced slyly at you, a smug grin creeping onto their face.

Levi frowned, his tail twitching with irritation. “It’s not that complicated,” he muttered. “You just...have to listen.” You don’t even remember when he switched into his demon form, but you can somewhat presume it was around the second the first whine gasped from their lips.

Despite their blunders, Notus managed to turn the situation into a chance for attention, constantly praising Levi in exaggerated tones. “Wow, Levi, you’re so good at this game! I mean, you basically carried us, right?” They laughed, shooting another smug glance your way. “MC must feel so lucky to have someone like you showing them the ropes.”


Levi blinked, looking between Notus and you. His face flushed, but not in the usual embarrassed way—it was frustration. “What are you even talking about?” he snapped. “MC doesn’t need me to ‘carry’ them. They’re actually good at this!”

Notus tried to backtrack, laughing nervously. “Oh, sure, sure! I didn’t mean it like that, I just—”

“Just stop.” Levi's voice was uncharacteristically firm. His eyes darted to you, softening. “MC doesn’t need someone like you pointing out their skills. They’ve already proven themselves. Unlike, uh, certain people who don’t even know how to play.”

The match ended shortly after, with Levi muttering about how “toxic noobs ruin games.” He didn’t invite Notus back for another session.

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Lucifer’s patience had worn thinner than a threadbare string. The complaints from his brothers about Notus's antics had escalated from minor annoyances to full-blown disruptions of their routines. Asmodeus couldn’t walk down the hallway without Notus latching on to him, Leviathan’s game nights had been interrupted by bizarre "accidental" server crashes, and even Belphegor muttered in frustration about charms slipping into his blankets to make him "dream of Notus."

Through it all, you have endured the worst of it — every petty prank, sabotage attempt, and unwelcome spell aimed at undermining your place in the Devildom. You’ve handled it with your usual grace, brushing off bruised egos and minor inconveniences with an easy smile. But this time, Notus had gone too far.

Self efficacy is quite the funny theory - the more you believe in yourself, the more likely you are to succeed. The more successes you have, the better your confidence. So how come even without that, Notus seemed to be as determined as ever to ruin your mood?

The prank seemed harmless at first—a minor tripwire spell meant to tangle your legs and leave you stumbling in embarrassment. But Notus, in their reckless desperation to make you look bad, underestimated the strength of the curse. When the trap activated, you didn’t just trip - you were violently flung forward, crashing into a jagged edge of a chair (there’s too many of them in the House of Lamentation as you just got to personally establish).

The sound of breaking wood reverberated through the house. You hit the floor hard, crimson spilling from a deep gash on your arm where wood had pierced skin. Placing your fingertips on the gush of blood pooling around the scratches, your hands webbed with red iron.

Lucifer arrived almost immediately, his presence a storm brewing in the hall. His brothers, frozen in stunned silence, stood back as he knelt to examine you. His gloved hands trembled faintly as he carefully removed the shards and inspected the various wounds that differentiated in size and depth.

Notus tried to deflect, stammering about how it was just a joke gone wrong, their confidence cracking under Lucifer’s piercing glare. “I-I didn’t mean for it to—MC is just so dramatic, they—”

“Silence.”

Lucifer’s single word was sharper than a blade, and the room fell into an oppressive silence. His wings, usually tucked away, unfurled slightly — a stark warning of the fury he struggled to contain. He rose to his full height, towering over Notus, his face a mask of cold fury.

“You’ve been a disruption from the moment you arrived, but this? This is beyond forgiveness.”

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Notus didn’t learn their lesson, of course. Their jealousy burned too brightly to let them stop. But this time, you’ve sincerely had had enough, and with Thirteen’s help, you concocted a poetic dose of karmic justice mingled with a touch of the classics.

Diavolo was long informed of the incident involving you previously, and further filled in on all the previous attempts of ruining both your reputation and relationship with your family. A little meeting in the RAD council room was in due order - one which all of the affected were invited for a silly show.

Lucifer stood impatiently next to a stone-faced Diavolo. You would find it slightly threatening if you didn’t know what was going to happen in just a few moments. Thirteen sat next to you, swinging back and forth on a chair as she grinned at you with every wavering gaze at one another.

And like moth to a flame, blazing with both frustration and smugness, Notus strolled on in. Well, I say stroll - I mean struggle with opening the door before they accidentally put too much pressure on the handle, leading to the doors gushing open with a far swing, and the buckets utop the bar to drop down like catharsis.

A greedy sorcerer from sorcerer’s society that just so happened to notice you when you came in one day with a few of the brother’s and Solomon the Wise himself - Notus couldn’t bare the idea that a little thing like you could swoop in and charm them so easily.

Now covered in a disgusting, webbed display of pig’s blood and some sticky consistency of water mixed with honey, Notus simply stands there, allowing defeat to settle in while the crescendo of giggles cuts deep into their pride.

“Alright alright, I’ve got enough of a laugh out of this,” you clap your hands, whispering an incantation that forces a gush of water to rain down upon them, washing away the weird concoction that coated their skin.

“Aw what, that’s no fun lol.” Leviathan pouts in the background.

“Whaaat!! What a bore…” Mammon grumbled to himself, looking away from the sopping wet dog once his eyes accidentally caught theirs.

“MC…” Notus sniffled pitifully, looking up at you through tear-stained lashes.

“Yes yes, I know,” you sigh, hands on your hips as you try your best to articulate your reasoning for this baseless morality. “This isn’t forgiveness or anything, the stuff you’ve done warrants actual apologies but hey, I’ve had a few of the demons in here attempt to kill me before,” Belphegor coincidentally looks away, “a few jabs at my reputation with failing results was honestly a little funny.”

Notus’ eyes glimmer with shiny stars and fat blobs of tears as they murmured a very simple:

“Fmnf…I love you.”

“…”

“Huh?”

[persicipen-archive]

𑑛 “OLIVE GARDENS” ﾉ DR. RATIO. HONKAI STAR RAIL. ANTIQUITY AU

fem reader ﾉ words 3.5k ᯽ unspecified romantic relationship. mentions of playful ancient gods lol. oral — character receiving. shamelessly doing it outside and lots of touching (grass). riding him. lotus position (?). cumming inside. protection used in ancient times — silphium (quite valid) and pomegranates (barely valid) ﾉ rewritten ᯽ ADULT CONTENT ﾉ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ᯽

as the priestess of the temple, your task is to ensure that the gods are praised with gifts. what if there is a scholar that prefers to worship you instead?

The warm breeze tickles your nose as you lie on the soft grass, pleasantly cold compared to the early noon weather. The shade of a large olive tree helps ease you into relaxation after hours spent in the blazing morning sun tending to your everyday tasks around the temple.

You feel him approach the hill long before you actually see him, like a ghost creeping up on you through the golden light shining upon your eyes through the leaves.

It’s expected of him to be here at this hour, next to you. There’s no one else to disturb you two, just lazy birds and the zephyrs dancing in the wind; little spirits weave and swing their arms around your form, ruffling his hair with fresh air, cool against the dew gathered on your forehead.

Veritas Ratio has nothing in his hands to offer, but his presence alone is enough to make the gods jealous; he’s beautiful, matching the divine statues holding the nearby temple tall and mighty on its columns. As if one of said sculptures escaped and turned human, with violet hair like the sweetest grapes and amber eyes like the finest quality copper coins.

With all that adorns him — from jewellery to elegant sandals — his skin glistens more than your own in the sun, the liquid gold of his being that he can offer instead. The sweat shines on the tips of his ears, nose, and cheeks, highlighting each crease with a perfect precision you’d swear is unnatural. Godsent.

“I welcome you again on these sacred grounds,” you whisper with a smile, glancing at him as you finally decide to take your arm from your forehead. The look you exchange makes something stir deep inside you, right between the navel and pubic bone. “Have you come back for some more wine?”

The question doesn’t catch him off guard; you can see in those pretty eyes that he anticipated it. When he doesn’t answer immediately, however, your sight trails down to the lush curve of his lips.

“Indubitably, the wine would be pleasant,” he mutters thoughtfully, already pulling closer. The jangling of metal pieces connecting to his ankles rings along with the crunchy sound of dry grass under his feet. “But I’m sure the gods already have more than enough wine to indulge themselves throughout the entire afternoon.”

“Perhaps. What are you here for, then?”

It’s fun to tease him; it always ends with you having a great time playing around with the words. This also isn’t an exception when he answers with another question.

“And you? Shouldn’t you be waiting in the temple instead of dozing off in the gardens, waiting for some stranger to stir a conversation?”

A weak exhale of laughter leaves your chest at that, prompting him to tilt his head inquisitively. “That depends if the stranger is you or someone else.”

You raise a hand, allowing him to close the last gap between you and bring it to his face to kiss your knuckles softly.

“If it’s you, maybe I wanted to see you sooner,” you add, stretching your neck upwards slightly in search of more touch.

It comes quickly as a brief peck on the lips, chaste and careful — just a greeting as well as a promise of what’s coming. The peachy colour of his cheeks only emphasises his sharp features further when he leans back, though you doubt anyone could ever forget how gorgeous this man is. One of the wonders of the world, with or without the blush.

His clothes slide from his shoulders effortlessly, the flowing linen clinging to the curves of his muscles like second skin as he exposes himself to the world. That beautiful hair spreads messily on the ground once he lies down next to you and pats his chest with one arm.

It takes neither hesitation nor further words for you to lay your head in his open embrace, pillowed by his heart beating steadily right under your ear. A pair of strong arms embraces your shoulder soon after, but most importantly, a new shade joins your rest beneath the tree.

Even without having to look at the sky, you know the clouds gathered to dim the sun. The rustling of olive branches in the wind almost completely replaces the sounds of cicadas, gales soaring high in the sky to travel above the hill.

In such peace, the silence feels warm and welcome — as much as his skin brushing against yours does. You sigh deeply when his lips press down onto the top of your head, his breath tickling the roots of your hair, gentle fingers threading through it.

The tone of his humming is content. His hands exploring your back, petting and stroking each little bump of your spine, are the reasons for which you squirm lightly from time to time.

Would be nice to continue and deepen the pleasure, but just resting like that was lovely on its own. Sometimes you simply cannot decide — the kindness of the day enveloping you both is quite compelling too, and you wish to never get up from the lush grass.

That is until you feel his erection stirring, pulsing under your thigh that accidentally landed on top of his robes around the hips. Must be enjoying himself, if you can assume this much, from the hardness growing between your bodies.

Without delay, your lips turn to graze over his neck, where his scent is stronger and fills your nostrils with its sweetness. It’s as if he just dipped in wine and ate some honey; that’s how rich it is — an intoxicating combination to inhale when you let your teeth nibble on the collarbone.

“Are you sure you’re not coming here with different intentions than just offering your praise to the gods?” You purr against his skin, sliding down his torso, taking the folds of his robes with you to uncover more of his muscular body.

His chest is pale compared to the legs he shows during his public appearances, tinted with a golden tan that gradually disappears under loose layers of fabric.

“Depends. If I can praise the gods through my actions, I will gladly show it all to you,” he replies, his voice sultry.

Oh, those gods have definitely been playing with your heart this year, giggling every time they send him here, probably watching from the clouds as the two lovers meet again under the tree.

“As always, I would be pleased to receive the worship in their stead.”

Lazily, you rut your lower body against his leg while your fingers wander under his robes, smoothing up his inner thigh with a light brush, barely ghosting above the skin. He doesn’t let out even the slightest sound of acknowledgement, yet he doesn’t need to — you see his cock twitching.

The moment the pad of your finger touches it, his arms around your shoulder tighten. He shifts, grinding against the sole of your palm.

With a soft laugh, you lean forward to kiss him on the mouth. The groan of excitement you swallow sounds wonderful in your ears, full of longing for fulfilment, yet he couldn’t force you to move any faster, still too deep in his complicated thoughts.

As you feel the slippery tear of precum slide between your fingers, you want to pull the foreskin down, slowly teasing the ridge under the tip. So many possibilities, so many desires.

One more peck lands on your cheekbone as he puts one of his hands down between your legs, parting them carefully; fingertips stroke at your sensitive thighs, barely reaching for your private parts, too shallow to satisfy either of you.

“It’s okay, I can wait. No need to do it at the same time…” You smile at him when he pauses in his motion to study your face, frowning lightly, almost apologetically. “We have lots of time ahead, don’t worry. I’ve been waiting this whole morning, I can spare you another moment or two.”

He hums in agreement, though not without a bitter note of disappointment, probably having more than one idea of how to actually make it work. He could even fuck you right away, with those vast arms keeping your waist in place and those powerful thighs putting all that strength to work. Or turn you around, with your face near his pelvis and your pretty ass above his face, grinding your wetness against his chin. He has said once that he wants to taste you like that, after all.

His hold around your waist is gentle, firm, and tempting — if you were standing, your knees would have given in long ago just from imagining such treatment.

Nonetheless, as you finally unwrap his shaft to see it standing proudly, flushed and hot, glistening at the very tip, you take your chance to play with the foreskin, moving it back and forth with one hand and circling the glans with another.

Losing your head, you place a gentle kiss on the exposed ridge, feeling the slit tremble when more pre slides out and tickles your lip. It tastes slightly salty, sweet on your tongue, and it makes your hunger only worse, eager to open your mouth and lick up the underside.

A hitched breath follows right after when your tongue swipes across the entire length from the balls to the crown; then another, with more power, to let the head rub against the palate and savour the taste that was left there.

Obvious to notice that he enjoys it so much when he reaches for your midsection and grips at it so eagerly, thumbs stroking your tummy.

But before you could lose your mind and ride his thigh again, you feel something pushing your loincloth aside, cold air hitting your intimate parts; the fresh breeze combined with the sweat cooling your skin sends chills down your back. The difference in temperature is enough to make your skin prickle.

He may not reach your pussy, a bit too far away, but his large hand caresses the curve of your ass languidly, drawing patterns of worship all over the skin, massaging it every time your movements falter.

He knows all the right ways to make you melt; even a mere touch like that leaves you purring happily against his shaft. Your thighs tremble when you imagine yourself in some other position — any of those you two have already experienced together.

He must have thought about them too when his other hand presses on the back of your neck, leading your head down again to lick over his cock.

If that’s the direction he wishes to go, then who are you to decline? Especially when your cunt clenches with emptiness, dripping onto the grass already just from this little gesture.

When you take him in your mouth, you hear his low moans, short and satisfied, followed by the thuds of his head hitting the soft ground. Your hands work to cup his balls, tugging lightly to bring the first surge of pleasure to his body, rewarded with a warm shiver rocking his thighs.

He’s so generous today with the sounds of enjoyment, little gasps escaping his pretty lips, mixing with the wet slurping of your tongue; that makes it nearly impossible to contain the blissful laugh building in your chest.

Finally, you can feel his hands travelling back to your legs, spreading your folds, and rubbing in just the right way — longing for more.

“It’s enough. Come here.”

Without a word, you oblige, although it doesn’t keep you from whining loudly, desperately trying to give him the final push. Your kisses trail up his abs to his pecs, then his shoulders and neck, his body rolling beneath you like waves in the ocean.

All the way, his palms stay on your sides, guiding you with a careful but confident grip onto his lap, holding you steady at a good angle when your lips lock again with passion and impatience.

Your cheeks burn at the accidental sight of his cock nestled perfectly between your folds, ready to take in when you roll your hips — so warm against your clit that the heat pooling in your stomach spreads through your limbs, warming them from the inside.

“Look at you, beautiful. Be so generous and sit on me already. I will repay you the other time,” he whispers, leaning for another kiss; the way he bites into your bottom lip tells you he is impatient.

With your hands on his chest for balance, you straddle him comfortably, locking your ankles behind his thighs. He watches, panting and groaning in sync with the movements, eyes hazed and cheeks flustered as you rise on your knees, hissing from the drag of skin against skin.

Slowly, with a measured pace, you sink onto him with a delightful sting, feeling every little detail of his shape as you hold your breath in anticipation.

He doesn’t close his eyes; he doesn’t look anywhere else but at you. The intense gaze on your face makes your insides clench involuntarily, and it takes a moment for you to regain control and continue your progress.

When you’re finally sitting flat on top of him, your head is spinning. Just being connected makes your walls pulsate, and it takes an enormous amount of effort to not succumb to your needs. Your aching core just wants to rut down until the climax.

There’s still so much you want to do before that happens, so much you wish to share, but the syrupy whines just keep spilling from your throat, and the pleasure takes away the control over your muscles.

You have to cling to his wide shoulders when he wraps his fingers around your waist, trailing the sides with the back of his knuckles. The tender caresses send waves of delight up your nape.

“Be still a little longer,” he coos, but his own breath is so laboured that it trembles in his ribcage as well. “You’re enjoying yourself too much just by sitting on me. How will you manage to continue?”

“Please, don’t say anything… mmh—!” You respond, mouth slack to allow the long moan to slip off your tongue.

The high-pitched keens resonate with your hammering heart. You’re the cause for the shameful noises in the gardens, but you couldn’t care less — just as the man beneath you, you know the gods will have no issue with those. They aren’t easily offended, quite the opposite.

Just thinking that they might be watching makes you hiccup, shattering the rhythm of your breaths.

And then the sound changes when he moves. Hips rising off the ground, slamming your ass down hard enough for your spine to arch, yet you find the perfect position and squeeze around his shaft, receiving a hiss for a reward. His cock pulsates as you grind against it, fucking yourself at last — with a tad more pressure and patience, it wouldn’t matter if he moves or not; it could be just as satisfying.

“Oh, if you only knew how it feels when you clench like this,” he groans as you watch his Adam’s apple move with the heavy swallow. “To feel how my seed gathers in my loins, ready to release into your womb.”

“I didn’t take you for a man like that.”

“Only with you.”

It takes an immense effort to tear your eyes from his handsome face, flushed, shiny with sweat, and with a pleasured grimace twisting the corners of his mouth. But the throbbing is too urgent; your orgasm right at the edge.

“Ah! Hmm… I still prefer to eat too many pomegranates, you know.”

“Don’t you store silphium at the temple?”

“if we haven’t used it all by now before getting a new batch.” You laugh briefly at that.

Your legs open further to lean backwards, hand clasping on his thighs behind your back, giving you better access, and from that view alone, it would be so easy for him to cum on the spot. The pearly sheen of slick running down your thighs makes you quiver and pull away again, no more than an inch, though it leaves your whole body twitching in search of stimulation.

As he realises what you want, one hand lets go of your hips to put itself on the swell of your pussy, right above where your petals spread to embrace him. The delicate touches there, massaging in circles and applying a soft pressure over the protruding pearl hidden among your folds, send the sharp bolts of bliss through your gut.

“Ahh, gods,” you mewl, knees shaking when you try your best not to fall over. His other hand holds your side with strength, securing your trembling figure as you roll yourself against both his fingers and his cock.

Even with all the care to move your hips to get the right angle, your bodies collide forcefully, making your inner walls wail in joy as the nerves in the soft skin catch the last sparks before it all fades. You buckle under the wave of euphoria crashing against you, everything coming at once — the rhythmic contraction, the heat igniting your whole body, and the tears of overstimulation burning your eyes.

Without even trying to open them, you let out a whine, feeling you tighten over him, and legs struggle to not give in, still rocking against his shaft, dragging every second of this godly ecstasy.

Noises of him speaking die down, though, and the pleasure turns sour at the thought you accidentally upset him; maybe your hips jerked too hard against his erection, or you hit his chest a little too harsh.

Then you open your eyes.

He sits up to hold you by your arms, with his length still lodged deep in you, hefty as ever. Yet his features are not scrunched up nor furrowed, not even in the slightest.

He just looks dazed.

“Apologies if I interrupted your preferred rhythm. I lost myself in the pleasure…” His voice is honeyed and so lovely to hear that it seems unreal to experience it just once, even if you’ve already heard it so many times when you embrace together like that, skin to skin. “Come closer. I want you like that… here.”

Your lips find each other in another kiss, slow and sloppy, interspersed with tired licks. It’s such a blessing to see him like that, glowing with peachy blush and with the mix of both yours and his sweat — it’s the thrill of excitement bubbling in your heart that you are the reason behind his satisfaction.

Slightly embarrassed by your previous reaction, you let him move your own body as he wants to, making it feel as if you were one, swaying in a dance of love under the canopy of branches and olives in the warm light of day, basking in the glory of their gifts.

He seems to be thoroughly enjoying the situation, playing with your senses so mercilessly that you have to bite onto your lower lip to suppress another bout of moans — not when you can hear the quiet ones of his own, breaking out with every other breath.

His movements are a tad clumsy and awkward in their attempt to fulfil two roles at the same time. Yet you couldn’t mind the pace, his girth rubbing just the right places and forcing another squelch out of your cunt, drooling shamelessly all over his pelvis.

Still sensitive from the previous peak, it doesn’t take much time before you feel another one building in your lower abdomen. Your legs hug his waist tighter, and you lean your whole body weight against his.

But it’s not your job to move. It’s his, and he does it wonderfully.

Heavens, it feels so good that your throat closes, all your attempts at breathing completely unsuccessful, and he probably sees how your eyes glaze over. Even when your back arches away from him, the intensity of his stare never falters, bringing you the utmost joy, but now his expression changes too.

The words get caught somewhere along the way when your walls spasm and milk him without warning. With the brief gasp, he can’t even tell whether it was intentional or not. His mouth hangs slightly open, letting out silent huffs while his body continues its thrusts, shivering in tandem for the last seconds.

Not once does he tear his gaze away from you as the ecstasy in his stomach snaps — a rush of warmth coating your insides — and slows his pace into shallow rolls. There is something magical in those moments of conclusion — seeing him still holding your frame as if he didn’t just spill all that thick cum into your core.

Gathering strength in your muscles, you straighten up enough to playfully take the tip of his nose between your teeth with a giggle; it doesn’t take long for him to push it up slightly, catching your mouth for a long kiss. With a sigh of satisfaction, he falls back on the grass, taking you with him, still embracing, still connected.

You follow the path his thumb traced down the curve of your cheek, nestling against his chest, and your heart beats alongside his. It’s tempting to let your eyelids close and let the pleasant post-orgasmic sleep claim you.

“Tell me,” he hums, fingers reaching for your head to skim through your hair, untangling sweaty strands. “Is the priestess elated with our leisure? Have I done what I had to do?”

“Perhaps.” You grin at him. “The gods are thankful for your devotion.”

AUTHOR’S NOTE — i say ‘lowkey’ antiquity au because the setting is only vaguely described and could work if we get dr. ratio’s planet at some point in hsr (i wonder if it is amphoreus??) :3 until then, just imagine it as loosely inspired by ancient greece or rome ﾉ as usual, i’m sorry if i overlooked any mistakes, but i can only endure this much of proofreading before giving up ﾉ also, please don’t believe in ancient protection methods even if they could work lmao — the joke there was that reader and dr. ratio get together so often that they have no more silphium to use and need to resort to other temporary methods before acquiring more for future use hehe

[betterthanyalls]

Can I ask for telemachus angst or fluff? Maybe reader is his only childhood friend untill now?

HIIIIIIII I LOVEEEE TELEMACHUS sorry for the shortness LOLL i am also trying to write a letter to my school board to fix issues and stuff BUT I WAS SO GLAD TO WRITE THIS TODAY I LOVE YOU THANK YOUUUU

Masterlist

Sleepy Adoration

Telemachus x Reader

EPIC: The Musical ~ Oneshot ~ Fluff

Words: 395

Published: 12/11/2024

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Mystical moonlight streamed in through the open windows, the silk drapes ruffling slightly in the zephyr. Two bodies laid contently on a plush bed in a room that clearly belonged to a royal. 

“Do you think the wind is trying to tell us something, yet we refuse to listen?” A feminine voice spoke out gently from the darkness.

“I think you need to stop talking and sleep,” retorted a more masculine tone. 

Y/n laughed into the quiet air, earning a smack from the prince of Ithaca. 

“Ow!’ 

“I told you to sleep,” Telemachus chuckled along, their joy intertwining together.

Silence enveloped the room once more for a while. Again, it was disrupted by a sigh.

“Thank you,” Telemachus murmured sleepily.

“Mm?” Y/n hummed, not hearing his words in her groggy state.

“For being my friend. I... the suitors... they scare away any chance of socializing here,” Telemachus explained bashfully. Y/n just hummed once more, not uttering any words.

“Y/n… I…” Telemachus had so much to say, yet he had no words to express himself. Something in his mind nagged at him to continue his words. The young royal wanted to fight back, but the thought wouldn’t rest. 

“I love you.”

Everything seemed still, like the whole world stopped to watch. The prince couldn't see his best friend in the darkness, but he took her silence as an invitation to continue.

“I have loved you for a while; I just never had the courage to admit it. But, if I want to be legendary just like my father’s stories, then I have to get through each challenge. Including admitting this. You are so exquisite, like a gift from the gods above. Inside and out, there’s nothing to lack except for flaws. I see no wrongdoing with you, only the most perfect and righteous being of this world.”

No response came again, and Telemachus was beginning to worry. So, he turned to look at his companion, looking sharply through the darkness with a worried expression. The prince’s anxiety soon turned to relief and slight disappointment as he saw Y/n fast asleep beside him.

A tired smile formed on his lips, paired with an endearing sigh. Telemachus grabbed the shared, ruffled blanket and brought it up to her shoulders, providing a welcoming sensation. 

“Maybe I can tell you another day. Goodnight, my friend.”

[movidita]

part one here!!

The next morning you’d woken up with a slight headache. An unfamiliar buzz present in your head all morning.

Luckily, you managed to pretend you were fine.

Your father and sisters unaware of your night— well besides Maggie. You had to tell her! Can’t keep secrets from the sister after all.

Plus she had figured out where you had disappeared to for hours the previous day, completely aware of your lust for the older men currently residing on your father’s property.

Maggie’d never out you. Especially not after you caught her with Glenn merely two days ago. Your secret was safe.

It was now noon. Your headache had sort of faded and you were good enough that you could complete your chores.

Laundry hamper at your hip as your cowboy boots patted against the grass. Making your way towards the washing line. The one purposely close to Daryl’s set-up. His tent and a few other items of his scattered between the trees. Between the trees you planned on hanging your laundry up on.

You spotted him before he spotted you. Sitting on a log, doing God knows with his cross-bow, that wasn’t what you were interested in.

The second he could hear your footsteps he looked up.

In all honesty, he was surprised to see you today. At least not until later. He thought you’d still be in bed, milking your hangover.

Daryl gave you a quick nod of acknowledgement, “You alright? Didn’t think you’d be up yet.”

Smiling sweetly at the man and dropping your washing basket beside him. “I’m alright, feel all better now.”

It wasn’t an entire lie. You did feel much better from how you previously did this morning. There was just a dull ache in the back of your head.

Picking up an item of clothing and pins. Going up onto your tippy-toes so you can correctly hang the damp shirt up.

The man averted his gaze when the wind picked up and your dress began to flow in the breeze. Revealing a little too much of your thighs and the teeny tiniest bit of your bottom, just barely covered by your panties.

He cleared his throat, drawing his focus back to his crossbow.

“You have some water? Medicine?”

“Mhm.” You nod, pining another shirt up on the line.

It’s silent for a few moments. Just the occasional grunt from Daryl and the gentle zephyr.

That was until you plucked an item from your hamper, a matching bra and underwear set. All pretty and pink and lace. Bows and everything.

His eyes flickered between your figure and the pair of panties you were hanging up.

Daryl stood up behind you. So incredibly close. His chest flush with your back.

You spin around at the sudden shadow looming over you and beam at the man. Eyelashes fluttering against the apple of your rosy cheeks.

“You’re a tease, you know that.” His lips brush up against the crown of your head.

He smirked as he watched your face turn into a slight red.

“Whatever do you mean?” You innocently questioned, acting like you didn’t come out here with the intention of exactly that. To tease him.

You lifted your head to meet his, lips brushing up against his.

The man’s hand reached up to cup the nape of your neck, pulling you in closer.

“Walking around in these,” He tugged on the hem of your dress. “That stupid smile on your face. Think I don’t know what you’re trying to do?”

You shrugged. Acting completely oblivious.

Just as you were about to press your lips to his. A call of your name startled you both. Beth. You had told her you’d be out to help her with the horses in ten minutes. Apparently, ten minutes had passed.

Both of you backed away from each other, almost stumbling over your now empty laundry hamper. Thankfully catching your footing before you could.

Hauling the basket back onto your hip and following after Beth’s call.

Leaving the man and growing tent in his pants all alone.

[direwolfrules]

Monster High and Ever After High fanfic writers are both missing the opportunity to have Cupid say some absolutely batshit insane stuff and just be like, “but yeah, that’s how my cousin Dionysus would deal with this” or something.

Or like, the Ever After High students canonically visit the Wind Gods every year. Cupid could have been like “Damn, I missed out on visiting Zephyr? I love that guy, he helped kill my aunts” and everyone just has to process that this pretty pink love goddess is all happy that the beach dude helped kill her aunts?

Or just like “Yeah, my family reunion got cancelled this year because my grandma got caught cheating on her husband with his brother again– my grandpa– and we’re not quite sure when step-grandpa is gonna let them out of the elaborate trap he built to catch them.”

I want horrified looks from the students as Cupid presents her family tree project and it’s a fucking subway map. I want someone to ask why there’s a special notation on the line from Uranus to Aphrodite and to immediately regret it. I want Blondie to just be like “wow, I was so worried about my own family tree project and here’s Cupid causing half the class to gasp in horror–WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE WAS A HORSE?!”

Just like, Greek myth is wild and I feel like Cupid should reference her family with total nonchalance like all the time. For the average student of Monster High and Ever After High, it’s the stuff of nightmares. For Cupid it’s Thursday.

[image-repertoire-stress-disorder]

Hannibal 3x2: Why Botticelli's Primavera? - A painting analysis

ok im only on the second episode of s3 of hannibal so if it turns out in three episodes they debunk this entire post that'll suck.

The first kill of Il Mostro replicates Primavera, specifically Zephyr and the nymph Chloris, who becomes his wife. The flowers out of her mouth -- which Pazzi calls attention to -- symbolizes how Zephyr transforms her into the goddess of Spring.

Primavera is a rather specific choice; especially considering that Zephyr and Chloris are also depicted in Botticelli's "you've-probably-never-heard-of-it-bc-it's-so-niche" work: The Birth of Venus.

Lecter is obsessed with Primavera specifically, going to the museum sketch it almost every day, from what Pazzi recalls.

As a quick refresher (since obviously all of you know all the details of Primavera by heart):

the guy on the far left is Mercury (Hermes, if you're a PJO kid)

the three women dancing are the Three Graces (a symbol of chastity)

the woman in the center is Venus (goddess of love)

blindfolded baby Eros is shooting an arrow at the Three Graces (a disservice to Eros, but that's a topic for another day).

the woman to the left of Chloris is Flora (sometimes called Primavera), the deity that Chloris transforms into.

I. Isolating Zephyr and Chloris: Hannibal's influence on Will

Focusing on Zephyr and Chloris (as Hannibal does), we can interpret Hannibal as Zephyr, the wind god grabbing the fearful nymph Chloris, and transforming her into a spring goddess.

It's established in prior scenes that Hannibal views other people as less-than-human, even referenced to pigs in the prior seasons (see: "he kills in sounders"). Hannibal believes that, in his murders, he is transforming man into god. This reflects his later cannibalistic tendencies; transforming meat into fine dining. Flowers erupt from Chloris's mouth -- she is transformed from the inside out.

A parallel can even be drawn to Will, whose transformation arguably begins after he vomits up Abigail Hobbs' ear and is arrested. Under Hannibal's influence, Will is transforming into Primavera.

II. Carnal vs Divine Love: Will's influence on Hannibal

A popular interpretation of the painting involves the juxtaposition of carnal and divine love (reading right to left). Zephyr attacks Chloris carnally and violently on the far right. In the center sits the goddess of love. The Three Graces, who symbolize Chastity, turn away from carnal love, unknowingly about to be shot by Eros -- a symbol of divine love.

This is Hannibal's character arc!!

Hannibals first killing is represented by carnal love, a deep love for killing for a show of power. He kills because he can.

His first kill in the show, however, is the murder of Cassie Boyle. Art historians Blech and Doliner note that the openings in the trees above Venus are shaped precisely like lungs. And what's one of the first things Hannibal does in the whole show? He took Cassie Boyle's lungs and fed them to Will. Directly beneath the symbol of his first murder, is the goddess of love: Venus. Meeting Will moves Hannibal to the center of the painting, where love appears between the lungs of Cassie Boyle. Kinda gross but it's a show about a cannibal what can you do?

Hugh Dancy -- son of a philosopher, remember? -- refers to the love between Hannibal and Will by the end of the show as platonic love, to which he meant "Plato"-nic love, which in philosophical terms equates now to divine love.

My best prediction for the end of S3 is that Hannibal will transition to the left of the painting, and reach the divine love form of killing -- whatever that's going to look like.

[grapenamjams]

Trust In The Dark

Characters: Sylus x Fem. Reader

Genre: NSFW SMUT

Synopsis: After spending three days in a palace with invisible servents. You begin to forget why the Zephyr west wind brought you here. As you blow out the last candle pitching your room into full darkness one night. You are reminded of the reason as you hear your husbands deep voice emerges from the night.

Words: 4,284

Contains: porn with plot, Forced marriage, probably out of character sylus, sylus is the god Eros, Virgin reader, first time sex, nipple sucking (f. Receiving), oral (f. Receiving), mentions of fem. Overstim, P in V Intercourse, mutual orgasm, pet names (my sweet, I think there is one sweetie in there, my lady, my love, little bird)

A/N: first time writing sylus please be nice to meee T-T

I’ve wanted to write an Eros and psyche myth inspired fic for awhile now and I thought sylus fit perfectly! So here we are

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The myth: Eros and psyche, a Greek myth told throughout time. Psyche was a humble maiden who was said to be as or even more beautiful than Aphrodite herself. When the goddess of love heard the mortals were worshiping psyche instead; in a jealous rage Aphrodite sent her son Eros to shoot psyche with one of his arrows, demanding that the maiden fall in love with the most terrible monster. When Eros saw psyche he fell in love with her beauty but also her humble kind heart. He struck himself with his own arrow. Completing his mother’s wishes. Just as it was told by the oracle psyche went to visit, she was destined to marry a monster the gods even fear. Carried by the wind to a magical palace in the sky. Psyche had everything she could ask for but there was one thing that was asked of her in return. she could only meet her husband in the darkness of night.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Was the palace to your liking?”

He hears your quick intake of breath and the rustle of fabric indicating you had turned around to where you heard his deep voice emerge from the open balcony doors. Sylus didn’t mean to frighten you. But when you were both covered in darkness, there wasn’t much room for subtlety for when he made his presence known.

“Who-“ you pause “Youre him…” your sweet voice comes from a couple of steps ahead of him. His heart flutters at the sound, being able to hear it up close for the first time. but at the same time his heart pangs at the sound of the slight quiver in it. Sylus manages a light chuckle at your statement. “Your husband? Yes, that would be me.” Sylus smiles although you wouldn’t be able to see it. He liked how it sounded, husband. Yours.

The chuckle that he let out seemed to wrap around you in dark tendrils. Inciting you to seek out the source of the sound although it had sent a shiver down your back. But you quickly realized it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. “Have you come to kill me?” The question leaves your mouth without thought .

Sylus is not surprised you would ask that. The whole predicament that you found yourself in, made him understand your nervous thoughts and he sought to provide you comfort. “Now my sweet lady, what type of husband would I be if I did so?” He tries for a joke in his gravely voice that’s seems to take your breath away. but when he didn’t hear a reaction, he sighed.

“No. Im not here to kill you. You are my wife, I’ll never bring harm to you, I swear it” his chest aches at just the thought of you being harmed in some way, the pain increasing at the thought of him being the cause.

His deep voice seems to have more affect in the dark. Like it was the only thing wrapping around you,Causing your skin to rise and your heart to stutter at the sound of sincerity and determination in his words.

He takes a cautious step towards where you are. “I simply came here tonight to introduce myself and to see how you were…settling in” he sees your outline shift, thankfully not away from him. But he sensed you knew he had gotten closer. From where his words left his mouth, you imagined he was quite taller than you.

“After three days since I’ve arrived you’ve come to see me?” Your voice steady. Sylus is amused at your bravery in questioning him. he was a stranger in the middle of your bedchamber in the dark.

“I had things I needed to… settle. before being able to see you. I also wanted to give you a chance to settle in. Leaving your home to be married off to a complete stranger… I knew you must have been frightened.”

The care in his tone makes you recognize his consideration for you. further easing your pounding heart. But still you proceeded with caution. “Usually, introductions are not done in the dark” squinting as if that would help reveal the tall stranger.

Again the tendrils of a chuckle wrap around you. “Yes, usually they arnt” but his light words dip with a sigh. “however all of our future meetings will be like this. I’ll only come to visit you at night…that is if you want me to visit” sylus chest constricts at the last part.

You were already in this unwanted marriage with him. Even if you didn’t know it was the only way he could protect you from marrying a Fowler creature. He didn’t want to push you further into something you didn’t want. Although, he desperately let himself hope you would allow him to be in your presence. But if not he could be content with you being safe in the palace he created for you. watching you from afar.

“I don’t understand, Why only at night?” Unease rushes through your body. Remembering the crumbly ancient voice uttering your fate. Sylus senses your emotional shift, clenching a hand against his side, restraining himself to provide a soothing touch.

After a pause, his low voice reaches you in the dark. “to keep you safe. You can’t look at me, you’ll- If you were to see me…, our marriage, us. It will all be gone” he dosnt want to think about that outcome. The thought sears a wound so great into it chest making him hold his breath.

‘If he wants to meet in the dark then does that mean what the oracle said is true?’ The thought races through your mind. But his words have left you feeling wrapped in assurances that he means you no harm. In fact he wants to protect you.“But that -“

“My love, please youll have to trust me” his voice is raised slightly but in a manner that sounds concerned and desperate. Not angry or malicious. He knows this is a big ask, you have no reason too trust him after all.

You hear him step closer. “a monster. A being the gods even fear. That’s who the oracle told me I’d marry”the words leave your mouth. Stopping his advance. Something twists in his chest, he couldn’t deny it. the oracle spoke truth. He lets out a breath. “She is quite dramatic. But I won’t deny her words.” Sylus reaches a hand out, his finger tips brushing against yours. Making you jump slightly at the sudden action. “If you let me?” He says softly, Electricity jolting through him at the slightest touch.

You hold your breath as his fingers go over your hand, intertwining with your fingers. Fingers, palm, a hand. A human hand. Your heart picks up once more. No paws, claws or talons. His hands were large and surprisingly soft, except for the callouses on his fingertips, his grip firm.

“The gods may fear me, yes” you don’t realize how much closer he’s gotten until his whispered voice could be heard between the two of you. “But I am not the type of monster, you think I am” he turns your hand, placing the back of it against his cheek. You can’t help but let out a gasp at the sensation of soft skin. He brings your other hand to cup his face.

Releasing your hands in order for them to touch freely. Sylus shivers at your tentative caresses. Fingers moving along his face. His set narrow nose, eyelids, sharp angled jaw and nicely formed lips. He certainly felt human. Not at all a fury, sharp toothed, horned monster you had conjured in your mind, while pacing the floor of your room when you got back home from seeing the oracle.

Your hands trail down his neck. Your eyes widening in the dark at the feel of his firm exposed chest. The fabric himation wrap he wore, allowing parts of his chest and torso to be bare. You swear you hear him let out a shaky breath. He felt human…very human.

hands go over his broad shoulders. When they dip over to his back, that is when he sucks in a breath, his body stiffening. His hands hold your wrists bringing them back to his face.

Unknown to you, if you had gone further down his back you’d feel the softness of woven feathers making up beautiful white wings. His lips brush against your knuckles gently. “It seems this is all i have to offer you. Vauge words and a body shouded in darkness. But know i have already given you my heart and unending love and devotion. If you accept it of course”.

The stranger before you had provided you a home.a palace with everything you could ever ask for. Your favorite dish brought to you by invisible servents before you finished uttering the words ‘I’m hungry’. But most of all even in darkness you belived his words. Felt his sincerity. The stranger before you was your husband offering his heart.

Your hands pressed against his chest as you drew closer. Tilting your head up whispering a question “what is your name?” Sylus takes this as your first steps to accepting him and it almost makes him smile. If not for the guilt he felt at keeping another part of himself from you. “that’s another thing I can not give to you, little bird.” he sighs, his knuckles caressing down your cheek. He couldn’t have you knowing his identity, for your protection and the protection of his heart. “But You may call me husband and maybe with time, beloved”. His thumb rubs your chin.

Despite being disappointed once again at the fact that he has to keep parts of himself hidden from you. You still willing to accept it, for you felt safe and a sense of unexplainable belonging with him.

“I can’t call you husband” you whispered as a response.

Sylus pauses his caressing, that searing ache returning. Did you decide you couldn’t accept him? Would he even be able to let you go, if you did? “Why not?” His hand cups your face. wanting to touch you a bit longer before you stepped away from him. But you didn’t, you instead stepped impossibly closer.

Your heart begins to quicken but not by fear this time. “We haven’t kissed to seal our marriage” you say then hear him let out a chuckle, the same one that seemed to wrap around you and spread through your body as dark electricity. Your sweet innocent words pulling at his heart. “In that, you are right, my love” the hand that cups your cheek guides you to his mouth. the ghost of his lips against yours. “How careless of me to overlook such a thing”

His fingers go to your chin tilting it up. In the dark you still close your eyes, waiting for him to close the distance. The wait felt like an eternity. Only Breathes touching skin. “Let’s rectify that,so you may call me yours for eternity” he murmurs. finally pressing his lips to yours in the most gentle manner. still giving you a chance to pull away. Instead your hands clutched at his fabric going over one shoulder, pressing your mouth more firmly to his.

Sylus lets out a shaky sigh of relief at your acceptance. Pushing forward, capturing your mouth properly against his own. Everything inside him melts at the feel of your lips. They tasted sweeter than ambrosia. He swears you are the source from which is made,the fountain of immortality he would gladly come to drink from time and time again. Another shiver goes through him when he feels your hands move against his chest once more. He deepens the kiss to keep his shaky moan from escaping. Your hands continue lowering. down to his stomach causing him to break the kiss with a groan. “Are you still not convinced?” He asks, breathless.

You smile slightly, “I may still need another inspection” and he can’t decide to groan or chuckle at your playful words. He grabs your hands in his. Pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “Trust me my love. If you continued, I would have reacted like any man would with his wife” He interlaces your hands together. Straightening himself up trying to find his usual composure once more. Pushing away the oncoming thoughts of pleasure and desire from his mind. He knows tonight had been a lot for you.

“So why don’t you?” Your voice cuts through. He does chuckle as this, desire shoots through his body once more briefly. “Eager, little bird?” In one swift movement he picks you up, placing you on his hip.

You let out a slight yelp at the sudden position. Arms clinging around his neck to steady yourself as he walks. you begin to stammer. Your brain rushing with thoughts unfit for a lady. “Relax,” there is a smile in his voice so close to your ear. “Tonight I simply wanted to ease your mind about our marriage…about me.”

He bends down and gently places you on the bed. “We will do things at your pace. There is no rush.” hands caress your jaw once more before his hand drops away.

without hesitation you reach out in the dark. Relief finds you when your hand catches on his finger tips. “I want you to…atleast stay”

He lets out a breath trying to expel the affection rising in his chest at your words. He bends down towards you, “gladly”

~ ~ ~

Night after night he comes to you followed by a gentle breeze that feels like it’s made by angel wings. The first couple of nights, you two spoke about everything. The night making each word more sacred. Locking them away inside your hearts.

When both of you found yourselves in bed. Slight Touches felt heightened leaving both with shaky breathing between the two. His fingers would glide against your warm skin. Your sides, arms and back with such gentle strokes. As if you were the most fragile sculpture in the world and he was afraid he would harm you. Your own hands, followed the curve of his firm muscles. Memorizing him in the dark. For No matter how much you tried, he never stayed long enough to see him in the light.

As the nights continued even sylus hoped that Apollo would not wake to move the sun. Feeling like each time he left, a piece of him stayed under the covers with you.

Gradually. The night came where words turned into uneven breathes and touches turned more assertive. You had told him you wanted more and he was not one to deny his wife. For where he was lacking he wanted to make up for it in any area he could. So he kisses you with passion. His mouth going to your jaw, moving down your neck. Placing a mark on you, he wishes he could see. But knowing you would see it on yourself in the morning made him bite you again. His thoughts becoming hazy with your sounds and scent. Kissing you further down with teasing sweet words against your skin.

He removes your nightgown, large palms roaming your body like the back of of his hand. He lets out a groan, at how responsive your body is to him. A hand takes your breast before placing his mouth on it, warm tongue swirling the right nipple before sucking.

your hands go through his hair, back arching at the sensation, pressing your chest further into his mouth. Inciting him. His other hand works on your other breast, rubbing and tugging at the nipple between his fingers. Before palming the soft flesh. Sylus drinks up every single reaction you give him. Every breath, shiver, and moan. He feels like he is going drunk on your pleasure. Switching over to give the other the same attention.

When he is satisfied with his efforts. His mouth continues his journey of reverence to you. Leaving opened mouthed kisses on your stomach and sides. Hoping his Affectionate Words sear into your skin just as the love bites he leaves on you.

When he reaches your center. Sylus is hot with desire, it’s almost primal the way he needs to taste you. He nips at your thighs, opening you up for him. And he almost loses it at not being able to see you presented to him, but smelling your intoxicating scent. He curses at his predicament but he finds solace in the fact that he is the first and only one to taste you.

“W-what are you doing near that place?” You ask hesitantly. Never being intimate with a man before you are confused as to why his face is between your most private parts.

He chuckles against your skin. “Trust me, I’m exactly where I am supposed to be, sweetie” he puts your legs over his shoulders, pulling you towards his face. hearing you gasp. “Relax, just focus on making those sweet noises for me, little bird” his rubs down your thigh “if you want me to stop just tell me, okay? But I’m sure you’ll be enjoying. Every second. Of it” with each pause sylus plants a kiss down your thigh until his mouth is right at your center.

He waits a moment to hear any objects. But when there isn’t any. his tongue licks up your heat fully, making him moan into you. “You taste sweeter than nectar, my love” he goes in again but his hands tighten their hold. “Better than any banquet the gods can hold on Olympus” his words muffled.

He curses, he had known that once he had a taste of you. How could he have anything else ever again? How could he possibly leave you when all he wants to do is be between your thighs for nights on end. His tongue lapping at you, creating patterns that has your hands grabbing and pulling at his hair, moaning into the darkness making them even sweeter and precious to him.

He wishes he could see you, how your beautiful face is when your body is filled with pleasure. Pleasure he is providing you. Sylus swirls and sucks on your clit. Pressing his face further into you. He moans against you. In this room, in this palace he had made for you in the sky. He lets himself say praises against you, Wanting to become your most loyal worshiper. Yes, within these walls hidden from those who would want nothing more than to take him away from

You. He worships you like the goddess you are.

He leaves you shuddering and spasming as you hit your climax. His mouth not stopping, in turn he grips harder. Eating you out, until the tingle of overstimulation pluses through you. You tell him wait, and with reluctance sylus leaves his meal but not without a last kiss to your clit. Making you shiver. Sylus would’ve kept going, making you come over and over. tasting you all night. But he could hold off for now. He would take his time with you, build you up, pushing back against your limit each time.

His Lips and a hand trail up your body. His palm resting on your chest feeling it move with uneven breathes making him smile at being able to leave you in such a blissed out state. From your chest his large hand moves to cup the back of your neck, rubbing the tender spot gently before pressing a soft kiss to you.

“From how you sounded just now. Id say you enjoyed” the teasing tilt in his voice makes you let out a breathy laugh as you nod. “You can say that, yes”

you bring his lips back to you, cutting off his gravely chuckle turning it into a throaty moan. His tongue licking your bottom lip asking for permission to enter. His hand at the nape of your neck leaves to squeeze your waist. Pulling your body flushed against him. His obvious display of need pressing against you, covered solely by a fabric wrap.

In time with his kisses your hips unconsciously move. His hand grips your waist with a broken groan. His body tightening with Desire. “Careful now,”a warning wrapped in a dark midnight voice. Only enticing you further. Your hands go across his chest learning these past nights, it is a sensitive spot for him.

He lets out an unsteady breath. “You’re making it difficult for me to take my time with you, my lady”

Your Fingers Going over the ridges of his sculpted torso. “Please, husband” the begging whisper has him desperately taking ahold of his restraint. The ropes threads ripping one by one along with you each inch your hand goes down his front. pushing away the fabric hiding him from you.

If sylus could see your eyes he would’ve seen how they widened at the feel of him in your hand. You go down the length of him. hard and throbbing. He sucks in a breath not helping but to move his hips to get more friction from your hand. wanting you to feel the desire and need he has for you.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you fill with nervousness at what’s to come. You can’t see him but you can most definitely feel his size-“Will it fit?” Falls from your lips before you realize what you said. A amused light laugh rumbles in his chest. “Trust me it will” his hand goes through your hair “I’ll take care of you, don’t worry”.

He presses a kiss to your jaw and neck as he lifts himself up in order to hover above you. His body is tense with need, pulling on that rope inside of him, holding on to his control.

he positions himself at your entrance. Telling you gently that you may feel pain but to focus on him. His voice is filled with such care when he Makes you promise you’ll tell him to stop if it hurts to much. When he is satisfied with your reassurance he places his mouth on yours, hoping to distract you when he pushes himself into you ever so slowly into your awaiting warmth.

Sylus lets out a groan against your mouth, eyebrows furrowing in effort to keep ahold of that taught rope of restraint. The feel of your walls around him, taking him in inch by inch, was testing his limits. You felt like everything he ever wanted and more. He doesn’t understand how he has lived centuries without you. Consuming his every thought and cell. Like you had given him life but you were also his undoing.

You tell him to stop to give you a moment to get used to him. he was only halfway in. His mouth didnt leave yours as his hand finds yours in the dark, fingers gilding down your forearm until he tightens his hand on yours. Putting it beside your head, he encourages and praises you. You squeeze his large hand, asking him to continue.

The delicate way he is moving into you is so intimate and powerful. When you both finally join together. It’s like there was burst of light, placing a new star in the sky.

He lets go of your lips his breathing ragged above you. He asks if you’re alright, and with a breathless confirmation from you. he places your arm around his neck so your bodies are as close as they can be. Every inch left untouched.

Sylus begins to slowly move his hips. His thrusts slow and mindful. Holding on tight to his restraint. Wanting to take care of you, taking higher priority than his own needs.

What would he give to see you in the light in this moment. maybe the wrath of the gods would be worth it to be able to get a glimpse at your beautiful pleasured face under him When he picks up the pace at your request. Attentive to any sounds of discomfort but all he hears is your moans in the darkness.

Maybe, just maybe if he whispers his name against your ear To hear it on your sweet lips when you cry out in ecstasy. You would still want him despite knowing what he was. He was tempted. Oh so tempted, but as the last thread of the rope to his restraint snapped he focused solely on you.

He couldn’t believe he was actually here in this moment with you. Being the one to feel you, to hear you, have you all to himself. Having you Mind, body and soul fuels his desire and love for you. Making him thrust faster.

He takes you. Claims you. But he still feels like he isn’t close enough to you. Slightly lifting your body as you cling onto him. He thrusts into you, Making sure his pelvis is hitting your clit with each thrust. Your nails digging in to his skin, leaving behind golden marks. He growls at the painful pleasure, wanting you to leave him marked. Because who is powerful enough to draw golden blood from a god, but you?

Body rocking with his thrusts, you feel a tight coil in your stomach, your walls clench around him. Sylus curses, hips stuttering. His breathing growing more uneven against your neck. “Give in-“ he moans at his own body tightening. “Yell into the night the pleasures I’m making you feel” his hips don’t stop their pace. Hitting every deep spot inside you. He turns his lips to your ear his voice the embodiment of seduction and undiscovered pleasures. “Together, my love. I know you can do that for me”

trying to capture your lips in his, but failing with the movement of your bodies. He fills the space between them with your name. he feels you at the edge and follows you over it. Hitting that ecstasy he never had felt before.

He moans, needing to clench his hand on the pillow beside your head. to not crush when his climax hits him. Keeping himself all the way inside you to the hilt, his release going deep inside you. Body, mind and soul. Repeats in his head as he starts to thrust again riding each other’s highs. He praises you and displays his reverence to you with each slowing thrust. grounding you both back to the darkened room. setting you down on the bed.

He dosnt pull away from you keeping himself where he belongs. Trying to drag out this moment by each second. Breathless sounds are heard. Whispers of assurances and loyalty filter out the opened balcony doors settling themselves on the glittering waves of dawn. Forever etched into the sky. promises made with the evidence of love that blossomed in the dark remaining for all eternity even when the sun wakes.

[mythologypaintings]

Flora Caressed by Zephyr

Artist: François Gérard (French, 1770-1837)

Date: 1802

Medium: Oil on canvas

Collection: Museum of Grenoble, Grenoble, France

Description

Ovid tells this myth in Book V of the Fasti; Flora herself explains to the poet who she is, what her attributes and accomplishments are, and justifies the games dedicated to her in Rome. Originally, Flora, or Chloris among the Greeks, is a nymph from the Fortunate Isles known for her great beauty. One spring, Zephyr, god of the West Wind, sees her and immediately falls madly in love with her. He pursues her, then ends up kidnapping her and marrying her. Zephyr then offers his wife, who has become a goddess, the "sovereignty of flowers". Flora tells the poet Ovid that she has set herself the mission of classifying all species of flowers, without succeeding because of their number. Linked to the city of Rome, the goddess is offered every year, between the end of April and the beginning of May, sumptuous festivals that end with games: the Floralia . Associated with spring, with flowers of course, with youth and beauty, the cult of Flora in Rome consists more concretely in the protection of the flowering of agricultural plants.

[what-even-is-thiss]

I'm putting together a collection of people turned into flowers or other plants after a weird or tragic love affair in Greek mythology because this epidemic is just getting ridiculous. Let me know if I've missed any.

Narcissus: the one everybody knows. Loved himself so much he turned into a dang flower.

Hyacinthus: Lover of Apollo that got turned into a flower after Zephyr blew a wind and made Apollo accidentally crush his skull with a discus

Crocus: Lover of Hermes who got killed in almost the exact same way as Hyacinthus but this really was on accident Hermes just accidentally killed his boyfriend with a discus and then he got turned into a flower rip

Mecon: A lover of Demeter. Dude got turned into a poppy. idk why but someone thought he should get turned into a flower to preserve him I guess

Clytia: A nymph who liked Helios but Helios didn't like her back and she was so sad about it she turned into a heliotrope flower I guess

Ampelus: Lover of Dionysus. A satyr who died while trying to ride a bull so Dionysus turned him into a vine. I'm starting to think this is a weirdly common coping mechanism for immortals.

Minthe: A nymph that was a consort to Hades. When she claimed to be better than Persephone the goddess in question turned her into a mint plant. Tasty!

Myrrha: Aphrodite got jealous that a city of people were worshipping Dionysus instead of her so she cursed the princess of the island to fall in love with her own father and have sex with him under cover of darkness without him knowing. Myrrha was ashamed of her actions and ran into the woods where the gods turned her into a tree. Out of the tree came Adonis.

Adonis: Lover of Aphrodite. Came out of a tree. Got impaled by a boar when Ares got jealous. Aphrodite turned him into a dang flower. Either Anemones or Roses, sources vary.

Daphne: Not exactly a love affair but her dad did turn her into a laurel tree to help her escape from Apollo so that's something I guess.

[alienkitty259]

So I looked up the meaning of dol characters names

Briar: thorny bush of roses, brambles, thorny rose, a thorny patch, or shrub, small tree,

Bailey: berry clearing, bailiff, city fortification, or stick rod, law enforcer,

Remy: oarsman or rower

Landry: ruler, powerful ruler, or land, fatherland,

Harper: someone who plays the harp, harpist, minstrel, pleasant, or brave, harp player,

Niki: people of victory, victory, or goodness

Darryl: darling, beloved, from Arielle, or dear

Wren: small bird, ruler, or small brown songbird

Jordan: to go down, descending, or to flow down

Ivory: white as elephant tusks or pale white

Leighton: leek town, herb garden, leek garden, meadow settlement, or meadow town, from the town by the meadow,

Gwylan: seagull

Morgan: sea born, sea song, sea circle, sea chief, sea protector, sea defender, or sailor, captain, great circle,

Mickey: who resembles god, who is like god, or enthusiastic

Zephyr: west wind, wandering girl, or breezy

Sirris: bright or burning

Charlie: free man, valiant, free, or strong

Avery: ruler of the elves, wise, ruling with elf wisdom, or counselor

Doren: gift, adventurer, a stranger, or one who has been exiled

Quinn: wise, sense, reason, intelligent, or descendants of conn

[mydarlingdearestdead]

The Things We Do For Love: Chapter One

"I'm Apollo." His golden hair shone in the sun's light, an almost mythical contrast to his dark skin.

"Hyacinth." He replied, offering a hesitant hand. The other man took it, but his fingertips were rough, calloused in a way that couldn’t be expected from such a man, regardless, he had a strong, welcoming grip.

"An intriguing name."

"And you."

Hyacinth’s reply was breathless. He was caught between one frantic inhale and the next, struggling to keep time with his racing heart all the while. Apollo tilted his head, as if he listened to a silent melody. His eyes fluttered closed for the briefest of moments. They opened, finally, and refocused on Hyacinth. The colour of molten gold. Of the purest instances of the ore.

Hyacinth’s breath snagged once more.

“You are just… beautiful. Exquisite.” Apollo breathed.

This startled a bout of laughter from Hyacinth.

“I wouldn’t say that if I were you.” He told Apollo, who arched an inquiring eyebrow, “The West Wind has laid claim to my beauty already.”

A cloud passed above head, laying a blanket of shadow across the courtyard where they met.

A brief flash of emotion crossed Apollo’s stoic, marble-carved face.

“No man, mortal or ever-lasting, has the right to lay claim to beauty. Beauty is no more a material possession than love or music. To own something is to know it for what it truly is. If I may ask, does Zephyr know you what what you truly are?”

Though Apollo’s question rang in his ears like a persistent melody, Hyacinth glanced hastily toward the horizon. He grasped Apollo’s wrist, “Are you a fool?” He demanded, “We can’t call the gods by their names.”

Apollo held his frantic eye. He allowed Hyacinth to become familiar with the steady rhythm of his pulse. Hyacinth’s ungroomed fingernails bit into Apollo’s flesh, leaving in their wake a row of uniform, gold-streaked crescent moons.

Hyacinth moved to apologise. He sooner found himself as still as the marble columns which bordered the courtyard. He noticed for the first time the laurel wood bow slung thoughtlessly over Apollo’s toned shoulder and the quiver of arrows by his hip.

Apollo’s tone was patient as he repeated his previous question.

Dreading the eventuality of speaking without thought, Hyacinth bit the inside of his cheek. He considered Apollo’s question, eventually replying, “No. The West Wind doesn’t know anything about me.”

A slight smile graced Apollo’s lips.

“That’s what I thought.”

The pair retreated steadily to Hyacinth’s chambers, walking the cobbled paths of Hyacinth’s blissful childhood and troubled adolescence all the same.

Apollo paused to admire many a statue or woven rug. He drew to a stop before a marble bust of the Wine God, Dionysus, laying a cautionary hand on Hyacinth’s forearm. Apollo peered at it for maybe thirty seconds in total before a bout of giggles bubbled past his lips.

“Have many of your royal advisors taken on a sudden bout of madness?” He inquired, amongst bouts of chuckles.

Hyacinth pursed his lips. He, too, turned to face the bust, teeming with poorly concealed resentment.

“Perhaps.” He replied, “How could you know?”

“This bust.” Apollo dissolved into another bout of giggles. After a moment, he composed himself enough to continue, “It more resembles an ass than Dionysus.”

This, Hyacinth conceded.

“It’s modelled after my father.”

“That… Well, that offers a flawless explanation as to why. Your father is not an attractive man.” Apollo laid a gentle hand on Hyacinth’s cheek. His thumb rested on the cupid’s bow of Hyacinth’s upper lip. “How he contributed to a son possessing your majesty, I will never understand.”

Apollo leaned meaningfully forward. Hyacinth protested meekly, “The West Wind…”

“Zephyr can no more touch us than your father.” Apollo unslung his bow in one, fluid movement, “And if he dare try, he will swiftly find himself roaming in Asphodel alongside your father.”

Once more, Hyacinth bit the inside of his cheek. He reached and brushed his fingers against the polished wood of the bow. Tears welled in his eyes.

“Laurel wood.” Apollo’s silken voice took on a shameful quality. His golden eyes fell to the floor.

Hyacinth swallowed past the lump in his throat.

“Daphne.” He spoke her name with a reverence reserved for those victimised needlessly by the gods. “My father died of a broken heart.”

Apollo’s lips parted. He could not pluck the words from the cacophonous melody which he knew to be of some semblance of a mortal mind. The god of poetry, reduced to the silence of fools.

In his abundance of caution, Hyacinth retreated from the stoic god.

“I beg of you,” He began, false confidence betrayed by the tremor in his voice, “leave me in my grief.”

This, Apollo thankfully saw fit to grant him that.

Masterlist

Ao3

[666writingcafe]

Gluttony

Beel

I should have known this was going to happen sooner rather than later.

Over the last few weeks, I've gradually grown less and less hungry. At first, I chalked it up to stress from these mock classes at RAD that me and my brothers have had to take, but anything I've done to relieve said stress only seems to exacerbate it.

And then one day I overheard Barbatos tell Diavolo that according to Solomon, Zephyr's been experiencing the munchies more frequently, and the pieces fell into place in my head.

Well, all but one: why is this experience different for me? If Zephyr's getting more gluttonous, shouldn't I be, too? Why have I not been consumed by my sin the way the others have?

"You're not good enough."

Its voice calls out to me from within the void I suddenly find myself in. I don't remember nodding off, but maybe I was forced to. Like the others have.

"What?" I ask. A little red demon steps out of the shadows. This must be my spiritual counterpart: No. 6.

"Ever since the day I was born, I've been watching you," it states calmly. "And you, Beelzebub, are truly pathetic."

"Excuse me?!" No. 6 merely laughs.

"I'm the hunger that used to burn inside you. But you've proven yourself unworthy of my services, and so I've found another host." I feel my eyes widening.

"You mean you did this intentionally?" Another laugh, much more raucous than the last.

"Of course! Gods, you're slow!" No. 6 takes a moment to compose itself. "It's not just about food, you know. You have to desire more. My counterpart should want to swallow the world whole with no hesitation, but you're too sentimental and weak." This is beginning to piss me off.

"I won't hurt my brothers."

"And there lies the problem. You put their needs above yours. Avatars aren't supposed to care about others." A brief pause. "Then again, you've always been the most angelic out of everyone, haven't you?"

Instantly, the void transforms into the Celestial Realm. A rather familiar part of it.

"If you hadn't spent so much time debating whose death would affect your so-called brothers the most, you could have saved them both."

"They were too far apart!" The scene quickly materializes around me: angels on opposite ends taking aim at an already-wounded Belphie and Lilith. "I only had time to save one!"

"You can control the wind, can't you? You could have easily used it to bring them closer to you or push the angels away from them." No. 6's grin grows larger, showing off its wicked sharp fangs. "Of course, I would have focused on saving myself. The two of them were dead weight, anyway."

"They were my family!"

"They were poor excuses for angels! I mean, developing such fascination for humans that you end up falling in love with one? They are inferior in every way!"

"Stop it!"

"Not until you accept the truth, Beelzebub! What good has your dear twin been since your arrival here? He's still obsessed over those stupid humans!"

"They're not stupid!"

"Sure they are. The only thing humans are good for is being a vessel for us to control. Free will is an experiment that failed a long time ago. They're little more than sheep, and some of them don't even taste all that great."

"And some of us have horns." Lilith stands up, except she's quickly transforming into something else.

Or rather, someone else.

"You are a conniving son of a bitch, aren't you?" Zephyr continues, fully in their demon form. "You thought you could use me to hurt Beel and get away with it?!" For the first time in this entire encounter, No. 6's demeanor changes. He's no longer confident; he's actually starting to shake as he stammers incoherently.

"I don't want to hear your excuses. You did what you did, and now you must pay the price." Zephyr crouches down, staring intently at No. 6. "I have had all kinds of things in order to satiate this hunger, but none of them have hit the spot. But I think I've just found the perfect meal." Zephyr licks their lips, causing No. 6 to squeak. Turning around, it begins running away, but Zephyr's much faster.

I don't get to see the carnage that they cause, for soon I'm sitting upright, covered in sweat.

"Good. You're awake." A bowl of soup is soon thrust in front of me. "Drink. It'll last you a couple hours."

"Where am I?"

"The castle." Of course. I recognize the servant's uniform now. "I've been assigned to tend to you until you're back to normal." I bring the bowl to my mouth and gently tip it upwards. It's warm, but not hatefully so.

"What about Zephyr?" The servant grimaces slightly.

"They'll be okay. They just have to..." He swallows. "...adjust back to their stomach."

"What do you...oh." The servant softly smiles.

"From what I've heard, it's not pretty. Only those with a strong disposition can be around them right now, and I'm--"

"--not one of those people. Got it." I quickly finish the soup and set the bowl off to the side. "So, how exactly are you supposed to 'tend to me'?"

"Basically, I'm your personal food delivery service. Whatever you're hungry for, I'll get it straight to you."

"And this applies to anything?" The servant nods his head.

"Direct order from the prince himself. All restaurants are on standby. Just one phone call, and they'll prepare whatever your heart desires."

"And they're okay with this?" He shrugs.

"It's all going on the prince's tab. Plus, I've heard he's promised all of them lucrative tips for their efforts."

Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan, @anxious-chick, @5mary5, @expressionless-fr, @tenkobitch, @budbuddnbuddy

[mwritesc]

DEMO

you are a demigod. a demigod on an island of stern cliffs and crashing waves and sea foam. the grass is yellowed and shifts with Zephyr, the west wind. the beaches are rock ribbed and gray as the heavens, home of the gods.

there is a house on Cyprus. one home, though it takes enough space for three. it sits right at the cliff's edge, hanging above the ocean like a lone lantern in the night. it is yours. but not yours alone. by the gods, if you were here alone…

Cyprus is an under development interactive fiction following your journey as a young demigod navigating the shifting wills of the gods, and mortals, following the famed birth of Aphrodite.

Greek myth inspired story

Character driven narrative - let your home fall to ruin to ascend to Olympus, or resist your prophesied fate and make your descent

4 Unique romance options - pursue a god, a mortal, a nymph, or the goddess of beauty and love herself, all with different storylines and narratives

Partial romance options - pursue the charming guide of the recently deceased, if only for a moment in time

Character customisation - define the details of your demigod, including their dreams and motivations regarding the rest of the story

3 distinct 'factions' - the gods of Olympus, the cthonics of the underworld, and the nature deities on Cyprus. make allies, or enemies

Discover and choose your godly parentage - you know you are a demigod. It is why you're allowed to Olympus. And yet, your parentage remains a mystery.

Rated 17+ for depictions of violence and sexually suggestive themes

Adonis [RO] - Sunlight on earth. Light as a breeze, and quick as it too. He loves and wonders with a fire that burns bright, but burns out just as fast. He's a thorn in your side for it, and he loves it, but you love him till death nonetheless. If only you could save him from himself, before he burns too close to the sun.

Aphrodite [RO] - Born from the sea foam, Aphrodite is the chosen goddess of beauty and love. Everywhere she goes, she brings just that. A breath of summer air, she is, with a kindness and hidden intelligence that shines through when she needs it. She will be the rebirth of Cyprus, or its destruction.

Zephyrus [RO] - The young deity of the west wind, Zephyr does not often stick to one place. His visits to Cyprus are brief, and he remains a mystery to all its inhabitants. All but you. Discover the true west wind, behind the soft, dark glances and long disappearances. Only do not let him discover you in return.

Teledice [RO] - Daughter nymph of Thallo, Teledice shares the bluntness of her mother and the ornate beauty of the spring. Teledice insists her duty lies with her sisters, and her mother alike, and will do anything, out of pure devotion, to keep Cyprus alive. Will you heed her warnings, or heed instead the call to the cosmos?

Hermes [Partial RO] - The charming guide of the notably deceased, Hermes fills his days of dark trips to the underworld with his own laughter. When he finds you (if you decide to make the trip to Hades' domain) he decides you might need a little laughter of your own.

+more TBA

[thesharktanksdriver]

any way the wind blows (Platonic)

So I kinda watch records of ragnarok and became obsessed

This is platonic but later on I might make some romantic scenarios for a few characters

Y/n is based off of scaramouche fron genshin if he didn’t have mommy issues and was a decent person. Also left it gender neutral

Gods and humans had always been divide since the dawn of their creation

Molded from clay in their likeness yet considered inferior for their mortality

Despite the fact their creators were just as flawed (if not more) than they are

This was a reality that few knew or acknowledged, but one that Hephaestus had come to as he pondered one day in his lab

It was no secret he was hated by the others

For he is everything a god isn’t supposed to be

Their supposed to be beautiful and angelic yet he is ugly and deformed

Thrown from Olympus and experienced humans first hand before clawing his way back to his spot in the heavens

Given the most beautiful wife of them all who hates and despises his despite how hard he tries

He is scorned for simply existing just as humans are

Perhaps that’s why he finds better company in them than he does with his fellow gods

Though they are flawed beings they know that are not perfect

They embrace their flaws, and persevere despite how hard they are thrown down

They invent, create, destroy and rebuild again and again

Something in which the god of blacksmithing respects, for even the strongest blade can be melted down to create something even better

In his loneliness in his lab, deep within the smouldering smoke and bubbling magma of his volcanic home

Hephaestus longs to learn, to see, to hear but knows he cannot go to the surface world

So instead he decides to do what he does best

He decided to create his own human, one that would be imbued with the blessing of true immortality

For only something with a soul can be reaped, even gods face that fate if they are wounded enough

But if something doesn’t it will last forever

Hephaestus creates his magnum opus

His human

His child

“From finest clay your are molded, but within your veins lay no blood nor Ichor, but instead pure energy shall power you.”

You are created by his scarred and broken hands that are steady and firm

He makes you an epitome of beauty, something that he wishes he could be

For only something that is considered ugly can know what true beauty looks like

When your body is complete he imbues you with life through the lightning of Zeus

And then he lets the breath of zephyrs wind wake you

Through pure eyes you awaken and he helps you walk

Your like a newborn deer, shaking and buckling legs as you lean to him for help

You look at him with such kindness and innocence

And love

That one thing he had only wanted in his life from anyone

For the next couple of months he’s raises you, teaches you his craft and how to adapt

He is gentle but stern in his teachings, guiding yours hands and teaching you what he knows

Luckily your blessed by him to understand all languages and speak them as well

But despite spending months raising you he had not given you a name

Only calling you “my child”

When you ask of him why he hadn’t bestowed upon you a title he says he want you to decide

For you are worthy of picking it yourself when the time is right

For a long time you ponder

What shall that be

But it isn’t until he tells you to travel, to learn, to live and love like all humans that you decide your name

“And so you become a wanderer. Just know my child that if you ever need help I am at your call. My only advice is that humanity can be fickle but the gods are worse”

And so you begin your travels, through marshes and hills, or mountains to deserts

Through the valleys and into land that is lush in greenery of various kinds

From dusk to dawn you travel, stopping sporadically to stay in places that interest you, with people whom teach you before you leave for the road

It is a cycle

One that teaches you of humanity’s greed, pride, jealousy, rage, hate and despair

But one that also teaches you of their compassion, love, kindness, strength and their passion for surviving despite how the gods strike them down over and over again

They rebuild, they overcome and engineer a solution

For they only have themselves to rely on as the gods turned their backs to them

They adapt just as you do

But you are fundamentally different from them

An immortal being without a soul, one that looks and acts just as they do but retains thousands of years of knowledge you’d collected through experience

You aren’t a god but you aren’t quite human, yet you retain qualities from both

You are in between them but also something entirely different from either

You are you

And perhaps that is enough

“You and I have crossed paths, but our journeys will eventually diverge. Who knows what will happen next? Let's just wait and see.”

You end up meeting many humans (and some gods) in your journey’s but many stand out in your mind

One being the human who later would go onto become a demigod

Heracles who you knew as Alcides is someone you had met by complete accident when he was young

He was being bullied, pushed around and punched by children yet he still tried to put up a fight

He kept pushing on and standing up no matter how many times he was thrown down

You stepped in, sending the children running back scared whilst he gave you a toothy smile

Despite losing and being beaten down he was still optimistic

As you patched up the young boy he explained that those boys had been bullying him and his friends castor

That he never won against them but wouldn’t let them keep hurting his friend

It wasn’t righteous and he couldn’t stand for it

You can’t help but smile as he explains this, he was someone you’d only meet once in a blue moon

So you decide to offer him help

For the next couple of months you help the young boy train just as your father taught you

At first he fails

And fails some more

But he always returns to training no matter how beat down and tired he is

In his training your stern but encouraging

Teaching him to hone his strength and use it properly

It is then he begins to make progress

You show him how to stand up for the weak and to never waver in his righteousness

When you aren’t training him you spend time with him and Castor in Thebes

You buy them proper food and give some extra drachma to take home

They always feel a bit guilty about it but you assure them it’s no worry

You had plenty more (no, literally you had more money than you could spend from being a damn good blacksmith)

Figs are eaten as the three of you watch the sunset along with some honey drizzled fruit

They look up to you like a older sibling and it’s safe to say you view them as little brothers

But eventually as always you must eventually leave

Both are upset (especially Alcides) but on the night before you leave you take them to watch the sunset and stars once again

Eating ripe pomegranates as you explain each constellation that lights up the skies

“There is no need to be sad you two, perhaps we will meet again one day. Even if we don’t I will always be with you in memory and in what I taught. Just look to the stars and remember my stories”

That morning you leave but not before telling Alcides to keep up his training and to keep doing what he believes is right

You leave on horseback throwing to him a bag of coin with a sly smile

It’s many years later that you learn he became a god

A bit of pride swelling up in you along with worry

You can only hope he retained a bit of his love for humanity when he ascended to the heavens

another interesting human you meet is Qin Shi Huang

The first emperor of China with you as his personal Historian

The supposed cursed prince who was able to unite a shattered land under his power

Unlike others who still looked at hims with some semblance of hate or fear you always kept a small smile

Offering the knowledge he seeked with a certain something in your voice as you recounted tales of old

After a certain time he begins coming to you more, wanting to learn more

(Also using it as a way to get to know you. A mysterious traveler that somehow was so knowledgeable that despite being a foreigner ended up in court life)

You are outcasted much like he was when he was a child yet like him you bear it with a smile

When you talk with him the conversations start our formal

But in time he opens up as do you

Not about everything of course but about some of your travels and the sights you’d seen

From far spanning mountains that scraped the clouds to the green fields filled with wheat that made them look like fields of gold

He ends up wrapped up in those stories

At some point he’d come to call you friend

The only person after Chun Yan whom he’d let close to his heart

To see how he actually felt when he hadn’t locked it all behind a smile

As you get close to him rumours spread and it leads to you being harassed by several jealous court members

You don’t say anything, it’s not like it actually affects you anyways but when he learns

He is furious

It hurts him to know you were harmed because of him

That you were hated

Just like he was for actions that were not his own

But you brush it off simply telling him to give them a small punishment but nothing extreme

That in the end your alright and that you can’t really be mad at them

In their eyes your a foreigner who was in a position they could only dream about

It’s expected they’d get mad, maybe trying to drop a vase on your head was a bit much but in the end it didn’t hurt you

He reluctantly follows what you say but remains hesitant to let their actions go

Not long after this he tells you of his childhood, all the pain and loss

But how in the end he killed a god and united the land

There’s something in you that sparks at the “killing a god” part but he doesn’t ponder on it long

Instead the two of you talk

And for the first time you feel close enough to open up about not being human nor god

His ego probably gets a bit bigger when you causally mention that he’d likely go down in history

For your time as his historian he shows you in a lot of luxurious befit for royalty and high class nobles

Even years later you keep them, gifts you’d treasure for the rest of eternity and make sure to keep safe

He was born and bred in brutality so his rather violent ways aren’t much of a surprise but you try to help him find ways to temper it

To see that there are peaceful ways to end a fight

Around 4 years of staying there you know it’s about time to leave and Qin Shi isn’t very happy about it

He tells you as emperor that you couldn’t just leave

That as his historian you couldn’t up and go

As his only true friend

But those orders soon become pleads

And the authority in his voice drained as tears replaced it

During the month before you go he is at your side

Making new memories and silently dreading as hours and days fly by

He listens to more of your stories, to your personal accounts and how they differ to what’s told

And on that last day when the moon is full and you await a horse to take you on your next endeavour he stands by your side

And when the times comes for you to go he gifts you a bracelet commissioned just for you

He gently fastens it to your wrist

“A gift from me, a silent sign that you are forever the friend of the emperor”

“May our paths cross in the future my friend”

“Yes, let’s hope they do”

When he dies on a tour of his land at age 49 you somehow appear before his side as if sensing he was dying

His advisors are confused as he orders them to let you in but they do so in fear of the consequences

You might not agree with many of his actions you’d heard he committed but he was your friend

He passes holding your hand

The bracelet he once gave you is still worn to this day

He only wished he achieved immortality so you never had to deal with loosing yet another friend

But he is human and nothing can change that despite how you and he wish so

If you had a nickel for every time you ran into a human turned god you’d have two nickels

Weird it happened twice but your not complaining

You met Gautama Siddhartha the former prince of Kapilavastu as you took shelter beneath a tree when night fell

There you found him beneath the Bodhi tree that you took shelter beneath in a deep state of meditation

Until you politely asked if he was ok and he answered you

Compared to most you met Gautama is relaxed

He is in-tune with both himself and the world around him in more ways than he knows

You could already tell he was a legends in the making and decided to stick around for a bit to see where his journey would take him

Eventually as he reached enlightenment you grew curious as to why he remained on earth despite being able to go to the heavens above

But he tells you that his word isn’t done, that he wanted to spread what he had learned

To make people happy and to ease their suffering

It makes you happy

Never had you thought a god would do so but you assumed that because he was human before

That’s possibly why he still cared

Even years later when he does eventually go to the heavens you have a small Buddha statue in your possession of many items

As a way to honour him

You wouldn’t exactly call him friend (you didn’t know him long enough to do so though he’d disagree) but he is someone you’d certainly never forget

Raiden Tameemon is another you met curiosity enough at one of his Sumo matches

At the time you heard talk of a seemingly legendary fighter who had yet to lose a match and you wanted to check it out

You weren’t disappointed and began going to show up in the crowds who watched him

His strength was certainly admirable but so was his kindness in donating money back to his home town

So after a match you approached him and went with him for celebratory Sake

You kinda after that became drinking buds with him since other sumo wrestles didn’t seem keen on being around him

He is a lovely fellow one who you swear can eat a mountains worth of food and drink an oceans worth a anything

You on the overhand are technically the same m, you don’t need food or drink to survive you just have it to experience it’s taste and experience

He flirts with you quite a bit but you laugh it off

Taking them as compliments as you comment on his strength

His laugh is loud and boisterous as you both guzzle down more booze

You don’t really get drunk?, so your always the sober one who makes sure to get him home

To a normal person he’d be quite heavy but your able to carry him with no problem

Which gets quite a log of amazed onlookers as you carry him without so much as sweating

At his wrestling matches you’d always at the front of the crowd cheering for him

You know he won’t be defeated but you encourage him anyways

At some point he definitely uses your hat as a makeshift Frisbee despite you yelling at him

Sometimes during his drunken ramblings he talks of how he feels like a monster

You always assure him though that he is not

That he’s a man like everyone else

One who deserves love just like everyone does

It’s a rare moment but hearing that from you makes him cry a little

Perhaps he had waited a long time to hear that

He knows beforehand that you’d have to leave one day but when you do he says goodbye with a smile

He gives you a hug and pats your back with a blinding grin

You promise to catch another of his fights one day and you do

The last one before his retirement is spent with him drinking with you like for old times sake

Slurred singing and messy dancing as you and him walk side by side of the busy street as the moon is risen in the sky

He teaches you to laugh and enjoy a drink when times are rough

Every year though on the date of his death you honour him by having a sip of sake whilst watching the moon

For the moon had is the only remaining witness to those nights filled with laughter

Mr. Anonymous otherwise know as Jack (though your not sure that’s even his real name) finds you on his own

At the time you were briefly stopping off in Britain to check out the Industrial Revolution

So far it’s been disappointing to you and slightly disturbing as you’d seen young children be put on the workforce

Having to deal with hazardous materials and operate machinery that could rip them apart

Oh plus the buzz around the serial killer called “jack the ripper”

Now that in itself didn’t really interest you

But what did was how the media seemingly just ate it up

They speculated and theorized of who done it

Seemingly sickly enamoured by the mane who butchered innocent women who just were trying to get by

Those same victims seen as nothing more than side notes to the man himself

Their murderer

The ripper

At this point your not sure what’s worse, the idolizations of the killer or how the victims themselves are seemingly shamed for their profession

Anyways

Unbeknownst to you Jack had the uncanny ability to see people’s souls as colours along with their emotions

But for you there was nothing

Absolutely nothing except for sparks of electricity? Of sorts that buzzed around you

Ever the gentleman he offers you a spot at his table and even buys you a cup of tea

He insists and you allow him with a smile

You can never pass on a good drink and someone who wanted to talk

Eventually as day turns to night he offers to walk you to your hotel

Saying that London streets aren’t exactly friendly to those alone at night and you agree

It’s on that walk he reveals more of his true intentions

Still cordial and polite but you can tell he’s holding back getting violent if you did not respond

So you respond with the truth since if he attacked he’d figure out you weren’t human anyways

Safe to say he’s very fascinated

For the rest of your stay in England you stick around with him

By your choice as well

He is an interesting man but one that you nether the less find yourself enjoying the company of

He is upfront with you about how he is a killer

And how he goes by the Jack the Ripper moniker after killing the original

He knows he’s not a good person but despite that you see that maybe he’s selling himself short

There’s apparently a secret organization in London that tracks down and kills far worse scum of society

Killing the original Jack the Ripper is also a sign that to you be at least has some moral code of sorts

He brushes your comments off, though you can see that it seems to somewhat resonate with him

You and him often discuss Shakespeare especially since you had met the playwright and even acted in a few of his productions

Though you don’t have a colour he associates your soul with that of a rich Violet

A beautiful colour for someone as beautiful as you are in both body and metaphorical spirit

When your time in Britain is just about up you and him go to see Hamlet

It would be a night he’d never forget since it filled him with joy that he had not seen since the early days of his childhood

He felt at peace for once

Even when you leave you continue to mail to him

Telling him of your travels around the world and even sending a few small souvenirs

When he dies he’s at least glad to have had 1 true friend

“ Aphrodite?, heh. A wolf in sheep's clothing. To exert a higher level of control over people, she puts on a graceful and beautiful front. Most of those who have seen her true colours know of her cruelty”

Through your journeys unlike your many human friends you’ve meet a handful of gods in your time

You don’t go out of your way to meet them

But sometimes fate has different plans

And though those encounters are rare they remain in your mind

For a few examples

You meet Thor when Odin’s Raven Huginn was injured

He was sent to earth to deliver some sort of message and inadvertently got injured

And that’s when you found him, a bleeding mass of feathers in the snow

Yelling swears that would make even Loki blush

The bird is at first hesitant to accept your help

For he saw you as just as human but he reluctantly accepted once realizing he could get nowhere

So you brought the immortal pet of Odin back to your cabin to heal him

Whilst the raven is boastful and full of pride

He eventually begins to like your company as you engage in long conversation with him

Most gods brush him off as annoying so it feels nice being appreciated

He won’t admit it but he might’ve began to get attached

He might not like humanity but maybe your an exception

Once he is healed enough to fly it’s when he is able to alert Odin to his location

And a meeting place is made

You bring him out into the freezing cold

He’s talking and your making hums of acknowledgment as he talks about the gods

It’s somewhat interesting getting his view of them since yours is relatively negative (except for your father and Buddha)

And then he pauses

the talkative raven suddenly leaps from your shoulder and into the air

Flying high as you spot a man…no a god

Long red hair, markings covering his skin, piercing eyes and a large hammer resting upon his shoulder

When you get within a couple feet of him and Huginn the god stares you down

The Raven perched on his shoulder talking his ear off about how you had brought him back to health

It is then you learn the person in front of you is Thor, the strongest of the Norse pantheon

One whom you heard was battle hungry

Though other than that you don’t know much of him

You stand before the god of thunder unfazed

Huginn seems rather surprised at that fact but doesn’t make a comment on it

Perhaps even somewhat amazed at that fact

Thor offers you a reward though he doesn’t seem enthusiastic as he says this

Likely just following the orders from Odin

You quirk an eyebrow

“I don’t want a reward in money, I just have a question for you oh mighty Thor”

His eyes widen ever so slightly but he nods

“What is that?”

“What do you desire out of everything in the world, what is the one thing you want despite being an all powerful god?”

Now that makes him pause

Of all questions be certainly didn’t expect that nor did the Raven that begrudgingly found itself enjoying your company

He answers and your not surprised

“An equal. Someone i could fight full strength and be at match with. That’s what I desire”

You chuckle a bit at this

“I’m not surprised, but that did fulfill my suspicions. I wish the best to you, that you’ll find that one day. Maybe we’ll cross paths again”

And with that he nods and turns around

What surprises him though is when he feels something hit is back

He turns, there’s snow sticking to his hair

But then that-

Your gone, completely and utterly gone when he turns around

The furious wind carrying snow that covers up any footprints

He realizes that by throwing that snowball you were in some way teasing him

Something he’d normally be able to detect before you even threw it hit him like he was nothing

He searches for you for the next couple of years, always searching through crowds whenever he’d have to go to earth for whatever reason

It gave him a sense of something

He wasn’t sure what it was but he knew he wanted to challenge you

He needed to conclude that fight you begun but left for him to finish

But for him he would get to fight you again at a raid Vikings were doing against a village you were staying at

You couldn’t just there and do nothing so you geared up and ran into battle

And that’s when you noticed a familiar red haired god watching nearby

And he seemed to spot you as well since the next moment your engaging in battle with him

The battlefield around the two of you in an icy wasteland is accentuated by crashing thunder and biting lightning as you exchange blows

That the normal apathetic face filled with giddiness at someone finally living up to expectations

The raid is long forgotten as everyone evades the area and you do your best to lead the fight into a nearby wooded area

Trees are flattened by his infamous hammer that now pulsates and cracks at the seams

Flesh spilling out of it as it beats like a heart

You use the trees to bounce off and lead him deeper into the secluded area

Eventually you wear him out just enough to get a hit that sends him staggering back

You could go full power but you decide not to since you’d rather have some cards up your sleeve

And as he’s on the shattered ground, kneeling as a hand is placed over his bleeding chest he asks for your name

You just reply your a wanderer before disappearing into the brush

He’s found by Loki not long after who is confused and somewhat scared at the fact Thor of all people has an almost fatal wound

When he asks the red head simply replies he was training and nothing more

Content on keeping your existence a secret for his own sake of having an equal

Loki doesn’t need to be the god of lies and deception to tell he’s lying but says nothing

Another god you meet is Ares during wartime

You were on the battlefield not fighting but just doing your best to help those who were injured

You’d had a good amount of fighting in your life and had decided to do you best to help instead

And there on the battlefield, bloodied and victorious is the god of war

You locked eyes with him yet didn’t waver

Instead focusing on picking up a solider who had sustained a leg wound

He looks over the human who relies on you and at his uniform

One of the men on his side

Unbeknownst to him someone was foolish enough to try and sneak up on him

But you mouthed the words “behind you” to the god

Within an instant the man is dead and your taking the soldier back to his camp

A small interaction but one nether the less

Sometimes in war you see him but you avoid being seen

Disappearing within the blink of an eye

You’d rather not have your immortal status be known to the gods

There’s a bit of resentment you hold towards him for your fathers sake

Being a lover of your dad’s wife, the goddess of beauty herself

Whilst your father is resigned to the fact that his wife will never love him and goes behind his back constantly

You can’t help but feel angry for him because at this point he’s used to it

Speaking of which

Your father visits you every 5 years on the eve of your creation

Though as he said when you set out on your adventures you can call to him whenever you need him

As usual he is kind and caring

You recount to him your travels

Your friends and all of the advancements in technology the humans had made

He listens with a smile, eyes twinkling with joy at your happiness

On these occasions he almost always gifts you something he’s made

All of which you use on your journey like the satchel that no one but yourself can open

Or your now iconic kasa hat with a veil trailing behind it which was inspired from your times in Japan

And your clothes built to be able to be able to withstand your power when you use them

Hephaestus isn’t used to affection from being scorned by everyone

So he melts when you hug him or hold his hand

You never hesitate to do so and the first time you initiate the platonic action of love he cries

The god of smithing usually talks of his latest invention or what’s happening with the gods

The usual petty squabbles over any inconvenience

being invited to their council meeting every 1000 years yet again but not being told until last minute

He worries for not only you but also humanity

He sees the resentment and disgust the others hold for humans, despite the entire race being moulded after them

They don’t seem to acknowledge that humans are just as flawed as they are

He knows he can’t do anything though

So he just focuses on his worries for you

About how it must be to loose all your human friends

For they age and you don’t

A small part of him expects you to resent him for making you immortal

Yet you don’t

Though yes, it is hard to befriend people knowing you’d always outlive them

And while there were times in your life you had craved death

You came to realize how You enjoy the fact you’ve lived long enough to meet them in the first place

To be able to see how far humanity has come and how far it needs to continue

To watch empires crumble but new ones be rebuilt in their ashes

To meet people like Hypatia or Nicola Tesla, minds ahead of their time only to be recognized for their accomplishments later

Sometimes when he feels more alone than usual he looks at the little gifts you gave him

And it reminds him of how he’ll always have you

The one person who would ever give him love

Something that even his parents had denied him for something that isn’t even his fault

And unlike his uncaring mother and father he’d always give you his love

His care and support

For he knows that someone deprived of that can end up becoming cruel and angry

Just like he had for so many years until realizing there was nothing he could ever do to get that love

But now he realizes that’s ok

they deserve him nor his care

Only his child does

“You want me to introduce myself? I've gone by many names and titles during my journeys. they're all just water under the bridge to me now and you can Call me whatever you like…but y/n is what I originally gave to myself”

When the gods gather for yet another 1000 year meeting Hephaestus feels little need to go yet attends anyways

Perhaps to spite those who wanted him not to go

He sits in his seat of sculpted metal

Normally he barely listens but when the fate of mankind is brought up he becomes deathly aware

X’s are thrown up by almost every god

And he’s left confounded on what to do

He doesn’t put up a sign yet no one notices

And the normally stoic and calm god is left silently panicking

Until a certain Valkyrie makes her appearance

He knew of her well enough

Valkyrie’s were some of the few who treated him fairly since they respected him for his craft of weapons

She offers an opportunity for humanity to prove itself

Ragnarok

An event in which 13 humans and 13 gods would fight to the death

At first not many are intrigued until she does something to ensure they would accept the challenge

She called them chicken, scared to face the humans they had created

Once the meeting is over the god finds Brunhilde and her younger sister Göll

The youngest scared to a T whilst her older sister remains dead calm

It’s there that he tells her that he’s an ally

And that there is someone that she might wish to contact for a fighter

And so she takes his advice and finds you having tea in your home

when she asks you to fight for humanity against the gods you agree

And so Ragnarok begins