Rewriting to improve writing.
"Gods are born out of the need of humans but they shall die at the hands of the ones they've wronged."
⋇⋆✦⋆⋇
The world of demigods has never been a safe one, plagued by monsters, the wrath of gods, and the impending d...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The world should've protected you, instead you had been forced to protect the world.
What an honour
What an injustice
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
༺♥༻
Y/N loved the Aphrodite and Ares kids. It was kind of hilarious how most people expected them to be enemies when, in reality, they were two halves of a single brain cell that functioned on pure loyalty and violence. People took one look at the Aphrodite kids and assumed they were shallow, all lip gloss and empty heads, but they were hands down the most terrifying group of feminists she had ever met. The kind of people who could hype you up and destroy your will to live within the same breath. Ruthless, blunt, strategic in ways that made you realize they didn't just inherit beauty from their mom—they inherited the ability to weaponize it.
The Ares kids? Equally as feral, just in a different way. They were so violently protective of the Aphrodite cabin that they were practically built-in bodyguards, constantly lurking behind them like overly aggressive security personnel. Meanwhile, the Aphrodite kids made sure their war-obsessed counterparts didn't look like absolute shit—moisturizing their faces, fixing their hair, doing their nails in skull-themed designs, and hyping them up like personal gladiators. It was a bizarre, symbiotic relationship, and Y/N fucking loved it.
Despite not being claimed, Y/N spent a good amount of time in the Aphrodite cabin, half because Maliah was always there and half because she thrived off the chaotic gossip sessions. They had a way of making everything sound like a Shakespearean tragedy, even if it was just some Hermes kid getting caught cheating on his third partner in a week. When Maliah was busy, Y/N would still be there, lying on the floor, listening to their rants while an Ares girl absentmindedly braided her hair. At some point, she must've dozed off because the next thing she knew, she was wrapped in a warm blanket, the voices around her fading into white noise.
If only her dreams stayed just as comfortable.
It started the same way it always did. The hallway.
Cold. Endless. Quiet.
She stood in the middle of a long, dimly lit corridor, the floors sleek and unblemished, reflecting the sickly yellow glow of the flickering overhead lights. The air was sterile, like a hospital, except wrong—too thick, too damp, the kind that clogged her throat and made her ribs feel tight. She turned her head, her eyes tracing the row of identical doors lining the walls, each one marked with a date on a metallic tag.
