╰┈➤𝐆𝐎𝐃𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ━━ ❝You've always been my little muse.❞
𝗜𝗡 𝗪𝗛𝗜𝗖𝗛- you're the object of many powerful men desires; from gods to warriors...they all want 𝘺𝘰𝘶.
‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ 🇵🇴🇸🇹-ᴇᴘɪᴄ: ᴛᴍ!ᴀᴜ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙
📖A mythic slow-burn, spiralin...
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: here's a bit of extra scenes/plot to 71 ┃ 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐬, 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬;lolol ngl i almost didn't include this cuz i felt that it was a lil indulgent lolol, like i said before i get carried away with writing sometimes and end up wasting time writing stuff that doesn't really need to be written/for the the plot, but ahhh i can't help myself lolol so yes sorrry for this long ass chapter but i just went 'what the hell' i left y'all hanging for so long----so i introduce, my reindition of 'god games' lolo PARTTT 2!!
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On Olympus, Athena worked in her study where night kept its own order.
The room was cool and still, all stone and quiet corners. Shelves bowed with rolled maps and marked scrolls. A brass water clock ticked—soft drips that sounded like steps down a long hall. Off to her right, a great owl—black as oil with gold banding across the eyes—slept on a high perch. Its chest rose and fell slow, claws curved around the bar like hooked crescents.
Athena's lamp burned low. She bent over a wide piece of parchment, ink catching on quick, neat strokes as her quill scratched on. She dipped it again. The candle by her hand guttered, then went out with a thin sigh, smoke curling up in a small black ribbon.
Athena exhaled, too. Not annoyance. A reset.
She touched the wick, and it caught again—light blooming from a small, steady spark along the tip of her finger. Shadow pulled back to its corners.
A low chuckle came from the far side of the room. Not the owl. The other creature that liked to land where he pleased.
Athena did not look up at once. She sanded the line she had written, shook the quill once, then set it in the bronze rest. Only then did she lift her gaze.
Hermes floated a hand's breadth off the floor, sandals still fluttering with left-over speed. He had drifted to the perch and was poking a finger into the great owl's breast feathers like a child teasing a sleeping hearth cat.
The owl's eyes slid open in one smooth move. Gold rings narrowed. It pecked his knuckle—sharp, fast.
"Ow," Hermes said, laughing anyway. He pulled back, wiggled his fingers, then—of course—reached in to poke the fluff again.
The owl struck again, quicker. He hissed through his teeth and grinned wider, delighted.
"What can I do for you, Hermes?" Athena said, voice cool as a bowl of water.
He drifted away from the bird at once, palms up as if he were innocent. "Nothing." He rocked on his heels in the air, eyes sparkling. Then that sparkle turned smug. "Except—" He tipped his chin. "Just wanted to know if you've been getting ocean mail lately. I've gotten a little note of my own. The breeze told me this morning."
