Swirling Colors
- LECTURAS 2,668
- Votos 126
- Partes 13
Continúa1h 29m
Última publicación lun, nov 4, 2019
A series of one shots following the concept of "What if Hermes was captured by the triumvirate?"
1: Blank Walls - Locked away, alone and without ambrosia and nectar, with mortals-turned-godlike poking through his essence as if he were a toy, is Hermes. He's lost contact with George and Martha, and can feel himself weakening. His domains far and out of his influence. He knows none of his "family" will come for him. He's truly alone, and at the mercy of his captors.
2: Splashes Of Color - Hermes is imprisoned by the emperors. Deprived of nectar and ambrosia he wastes away. Slowly losing his mind and inching closer and closer to fading. Then he is rescued.
3: Pastels at night - After the events of Splashes of Color, Hermes is taken to camp Jupiter, Where he summons sunglasses (a terrible idea) and finally gets a hug. Where he deals with the trauma of being held by the emperors for months. Basically, a lot of Hermes getting hugs.
Follows the events that take place after the previous two installations of this series. The comfort part of hurt/comfort.
4: Painting over scars - Hermes has finally managed to pull Himself together. Things are looking up. But as soon as he stops glowing, he's being recalled to Olympus.
Essentially Artemis and Hermes talking and bonding with eachother.
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The Untitled
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Most demigods are born of Olympians who meddle in mortal lives. Percy Jackson was not. Before the Titans, before Olympus rose from the bones of the earth, there were three: Ouranos, the untouchable Sky; Erebus, the shadow between worlds; and Pontus, the fathomless Deep. They shaped the edges of reality itself, far removed from mortal affairs. They did not love. They did not create for beauty's sake. They simply were. Until Hephaestus got an idea. In the modern age, the god of the forge had grown tired of his own reflection-scarred, bent, and forever underestimated. So he built himself a body unlike any he'd worn before: elegant, flawless, and female. It was a form for invention, for exploration... and, though he'd never admit it, for curiosity about the oldest forces in existence. One meeting led to another. A spark met the void. The tides answered the wind. And from an impossible union of sky, shadow, sea, and crafted flame, a child was born. Born in the silence between waves. Born in the darkness before dawn. Born with the sky in his eyes, the ocean in his breath, and shadows that curled under his skin like living things. His name was Perseus Jackson. And the world was not ready for him.
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