#aelous

Hermes looks like a Brazilian twink

NEED OTHER PEOPLE TO SEE THIS AS SOON AS POSSIBLE AAAAAAAA IM SO EXCITED

— Content/Trigger Warnings: Time travel, culture shock, verbal harassment, mild non-consensual contact, mention of stun devices.

You fall asleep in an exhibition room at an Athens museum while sketching statues of Hermes and Apollo. When you wake up, the museum lights are out, revealing the vast sky, the smell of the sea, and the hustle and bustle of an ancient Greek marketplace. All your modern possessions are there, but they have no signal and are no longer useful. The crowd stares suspiciously, and some mock you for not "fitting" your body to local standards. Hermes appears and steals your belongings. Apollo appears imposingly and demands that you be brought before him. Caught between fear, curiosity, and two gods arguing over your fate, your life changes in an instant.

The wind whistling through the plane window blew on Your face, as you gazed out the window, waiting for landing in Greece. Land of the gods, land of myths. A country I'd only ever seen in books and movies. You had come here for one reason only: to see the statues of the gods that had inspired my drawings since I was a child.... Standing in the spacious courtyard of the National Archaeological Museum of Athens, the Aegean breeze felt pleasantly stinging my skin. You had been in modern Greece for a few days, searching for inspiration for a new piece. As a young East Asian girl accustomed to a world of beauty serums, and all sorts of standards—you felt like your body was a constant project to improve. But standing before those white marble statues...it was as if all your heartache vanished.

Before you stand your two favorite statues: Apollo, the sun god with his perfect face, and Hermes, the god of messages, his mischievous smile etched in stone. You sit on a long wooden bench, open your sketchbook, and sharpen your pencil. Your trembling hand begins to trace the contours of Apollo's face. His cool smile, his marble-like curls—it's as if you've fallen in love with something unreal. Then you sketch a section and turn to Hermes. There's something real about his statue. His lips speak, his eyes glance at you.

"I must have gone crazy" he muttered quietly in his native tongue.

But my heart was beating faster. You continued drawing until my fingers went numb.

You don't know how long your eyelids felt heavy. Holding your pencil tightly, you leaned back. Then everything went black.

You was woken by a loud noise. The sound of a wine vendor shouting to sell me, the neighing of a horse, the clanging of metal. You quickly looked up. This wasn't a museum. This was... a bustling open-air market. The Greek sun beat down on my head, and I gasped.

"No way... no way." You looked to the right, then to the left. White marble buildings, cobblestone streets, cloth clothes hanging from people's bodies.

Your hand was still clutching the sketchbook. Your shoulder bag was still slung over my shoulder.

You walked frantically down the cobblestone streets, careful not to draw any strange stares. You reached into your shoulder bag to make sure your had everything:

- Cell phone battery 78% and iPad.

- Camera.

- Passport.

- Money.

- Charger and power bank.

- Black wired earphones.

- Handkerchief.

- Watch.

- Sewing and art supplies.

- Notebook.

- Pencils and pens.

- Mini stun gun.

- Mini perfume.

- mint candies.

- And, of course snack, Doritos BBQ.

Waah! , you must have a lot of stuff, you thought half hysterically. You tried to pinch yourself and sure enough you pinched your arm, it hurt.

"Damn... this isn't a dream," your muttered. Your turned your phone on. The screen was bright. But where were the signal bars? Zero. You couldn't connect to the network. You wanted to cry.

You broke out into a cold sweat. You opened your phone again. But there was still no signal. Damn. The lock screen displayed an Apollo wallpaper, followed by an Hermès lock screen. You cheeks immediately grew blushes. I'd be embarrassed if someone saw me. You quickly turned off the screen.

"This isn't , a nightmare!" You muttered.

But at that very moment, the alarm rang out. "Oh no." You quickly closed the screen and pretended not to notice.

A crowd gathered. Someone pointed at you. I felt fear creep up on me. You were different.

"A stranger."

"A runaway slave?"

"Look, she's so thin. She's barren."

You saliva tasted bitter. You wanted to run away. But suddenly, from afar, a golden light struck me like lightning. The crowd fell silent.

A tall man appeared. His body was shining, his golden hair flowing down to his shoulders, and he held a silver bow. His eyes were fixed on mine. Your breath caught.

"A-apollo..." you whispered in disbelief.

He stepped forward majestically. The crowd immediately knelt. I could hear faint murmurs of adoration.

You were so astonished. His face... was exactly what you had painted. Even more beautiful.

"Who are you?" his voice was clear as music. "A stranger with a strange object."

Before you could reply, another figure appeared. A young man with cunning gray eyes, small wings on his sandals, and a mischievous smile. It was Hermes.

He snatched your messenger bag so quickly you didn't have time to react. "Hmm, what's this?" he asked, rummaging through it. A bag of Doritos fell from his hand.

"Hey! That's mine!" you shouted, trying to snatch it back.

It was too late. Hermes had already opened the bag and put one in his mouth. His eyes widened as the salty, spicy taste hit his tongue.

"OH MY GOD ZEUS, WHAT'S THIS?!" he yelled, then laughed with satisfaction. "Crunchy, salty, and delicious! I've never tasted anything like it."

Apollo snorted. "Hermes, you're always like a market rat, rummaging through other people's bags without permission."

Hermes' eyes lit up as he stared at you. "And you Who are you? Where did you get this food of the gods?"

You stiffened. "I'm just a tourist. I'm from Futu... eh, I'm lost." The words slipped out without thinking.

The whispers in the crowd began to get louder. "The future." The foreign word sounded terrifying to their ears. Oh god, I blurted it out.

Apollo peered down at you even more. His face was so close he could see each of your long eyelashes. "The sun doesn't lie. I can sense you're not from here. There's something different about you."

Meanwhile, Hermes was already engrossed in eating half of your Doritos. "So he's a god of Olympus? I'll have to find out."

"I disagree," Apollo replied coldly. "He's coming with me. I want to know who sent humans from the future to this time."

You felt your body tremble. Two gods—Hermes and Apollo—were arguing with you.

Hermes glanced at you. "Hey, you. Choose me. I'll protect you from the humans who look at you strangely. Plus, I'm more fun than my brother."

Apollo raised his eyebrows. "She's not your plaything, Hermes." Then he turned to me with a gentle smile. "Come with me. I'll protect you from everyone. You'll be safe in the shade of the sun."

Hermes snorted, popping another Doritos chip into his mouth. "Careful, Apollo. You know what happened to Daphne."

The name pierced the atmosphere. you remember her story: the woman who turned into a tree because she ran away from Apollo's love.

Apollo stared at you intently. "I won't let history repeat itself. You're not Daphne. You... are mine."

Your chest tightened. you tried to resist, but your body stiffened. How could you, an girl who only wanted to paint statues, now be the center of attention of two great gods?

Hermes laughed, lightly but painfully. "Then we'll see who he chooses." He leaned in close, leaning down beside your ear. His voice was low, dangerous. "You know, you could fly you to the ends of the earth, steal the stars, give you freedom. Apollo would only bind you with too bright a light."

you staggered, panicked. "Stop! I just want to go home!"

But then suddenly your phone rang—the daily alarm I'd forgotten to turn off. The loud sound made Hermes jump back, startled. Apollo stared at the phone screen in confusion.

"What is this thing?"

“It's… just a .”

Apollo took it from your hand, the screen's light reflecting off his face. “Strange… this little thing can tell time, right?”

you shook your head quickly. “No, it's. not—”

Hermes had already reached for your iPad, pressing the power button. The screen turns up, showing a photo of you in Athens. He whistled. "You're right. He really is from the future."

All the blood in your body runs cold. They knew.

Apollo stared at you for a long moment, then smiled faintly—a smile more dangerous than anger. "Then you won't be back to that time. You're part of Olympus now."

"Why is that?" The words felt like destiny forced down your throat.

Apollo shook his head. “If the Moirae—the goddesses of fate—have taken you, going home is not an option. You will remain here until you fulfill your role.”

“What do you mean—”

Hermes leaned in, whispering in my ear. “You’ll find out later. In the meantime, why don’t you let me try all the strange things in your bag? I promise I won’t break them. Just… a little poking around.”

You backed away, panicked. But Apollo stood behind me, holding me back with his too-close gaze.

You stared up at the searing sky of ancient Greece, your worn-out pencil from the museum still clutched tightly in my hand.

Hermes paused for a moment, then smiled. “I like you.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

Apollo glanced sharply. “Hermes.”

Hermes chuckled and rose. “Don’t worry, brother. I was just curious.”

The campfire dimmed. You stared up at the starry sky. You didn’t know how you was going to get home. But one thing was certain— you was now trapped in a world filled with gods and goddesses. Cold Apollo, mischievous Hermes. Two figures you had only ever drawn in museums… now alive, staring at me, and for some reason—my heart began to flutter.

You clutched your shoulder bag tighter.

“This… is the beginning of a crazy story” you whispered.

- Two gods.

- One mischievous, one majestic.

- And you, a girl who only wanted to paint statues in museums.

- Now, you was trapped in a living mythology—and perhaps, there was no way out.

❥ •┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈ ❥

Part: 2

You stand stiff, your eyes flicking back and forth between the two. It was hard to comprehend. The statue you painted yesterday now stands before you. One gaze burned with desire, the other playful yet

The kneeling priest suddenly spoke, trembling. "Great goddess, this woman...has descended from the heavens. White hair, blue eyes...is she a messenger?"

you almost forget you even dyed your hair at the salon, and now they considered a fallen angel. Apollo stepped forward, bending slightly to stand at face level with you. You could feel the heat of his aura without touching him. "No messenger. She is mine." The words spilled out without thought, like an irrefutable decision.

Hermes snorted. "Yours? Don't be so quick to label me. I don't remember Olympus dividing mortals based on who spoke first."

"I don't divide them. I claim them." Apollo stared at you with a sharp gaze. "Yours...what's your name?"

Your throat was dry. "M-my name is. Athanasia," you replied, your voice still trembling. You didn't know why you'd chosen that name. Perhaps it sounds more natural to Greek ears than your real name.

Hermes repeated teasingly. "Athanasia a name that means immortal. It suits that beautiful face so well." He circled you and explored at the contents of your bag. "And what are these for? I've never seen anything so strange."

You hurriedly replied in a formal tone. "These are personal property. Do not touch without permission."

Apollo seemed increasingly pleased with your cold tone. He liked it. Sensitive, yet cautiously. Hermes, meanwhile, stifled a laugh, clearly enjoying the way you maintained your dignity in the face of adversity.

The crowd kept their heads bowed. But you knew their eyes were waiting, listening. You were between two gods. Each god wanted you—each one.

Apollo took a half step closer, just a footstep from you. "Athanasia... I will protect you. I won't let anyone touch you, not even Hermes."

Hermes immediately placed a hand on your shoulder, as light as the wind. "Oh, oh. Don't take this so seriously, brother. You'll scare this beautiful girl. Look at her face. She's scared enough. I'll make her laugh."

You were caught between two polar opposites. One was fiery hot, the other seductively cold. Their auras clashed, creating a tension so intense it trembled in the air around you.

Their steps were still unsteady as they led you out of the square. The people who had been prostrating themselves slowly dispersed, but their eyes were fixed on your back. You could feel whispers following you like a long shadow. Who was that woman? Where did he come from? Why were two gods looking at her at the same time?

Apollo steps to your right. His muscular build radiates a hot aura like the midday sun, following him wherever he goes. Hermes steps to your left. He moves quickly, his smile never fading. But his eyes are always sharp, full of cunning tactics.

You're sandwiched between them, gripping the strap of your shoulder bag tightly and trying to think clearly. Why am I trapped here?

"You still look pale," Apollo says in a low, thunderous voice. "Maybe too many eyes were staring at you just now. Don't worry, no one dared to touch you."

You sigh, nervously trying to speak politely. "I'm... still trying to understand. This world... is different. It's very alive. I feel like I've stepped into a painting I painted."

Hermes chuckles. "Ah, you're a painter. No wonder you hold that strange tool in your hand." He points to the pencil you still clutched tightly. "You see, painting is no small thing here. Some people believe they can capture the soul with a single stroke."

"That's enough, Hermes," Apollo sharply interrupts you.

Hermes shrugged, but his smile remained. He seemed eager for an opportunity to provoke a reaction from his brother.

The afternoon breeze blew gently, gently tossing your white hair. Your thin, clingy dress swayed with it, casting delicate shadows like scattering flower petals. You instinctively clutched the fabric to your chest. Your face flushed from the overexposure. The wind wasn't as gentle as usual, but mischievously lifted the edges of the fabric, sending your long hair flying in all directions.

Hermes chuckled , his voice mischievous. "See, even the wind is in love with you. It can't wait to touch your hair."

Apollo turned sharply and said in a low, clear voice dark, "The wind belongs to Aeolus. I don't believe in touching what shouldn't be touched." Then he fixed his gaze on you. His gaze was serious, as if even the god of wind was watching over you, making sure you didn't overstep his bounds.

You were surprised by the seriousness of his tone. Isn't the wind just... wind? But, of course, you had forgotten. Even the winds are gods here. They are living beings, and they can choose whom they favor.

Hermes smiled meaningfully and took a step closer. "Are you jealous, brother?" He winked at you, as if to emphasize that Apollo, the cold, majestic, untouchable god, had just felt threatened by a gust of wind.

Apollo didn't answer. He simply leaned closer to you, as if his massive body could protect you from everything, even something as invisible as the wind. You bowed your head, your cheeks heating up.

You searched for words. "It feels so strange. Everything... seems so different from home." Your voice sounded cautious and formal, as if you didn't want to offend anyone.

Hermes quickly answered. "Then let me be your guide. I'll take you to every corner of Greece, even places inaccessible to humans." He lightly touched your shoulder, and you flinched. "Let's start in the nearest village. I'm sure he'll love the marketplace. It's colorful, full of music and food."

Apollo quickly interjected coldly. "The marketplace will only confuse him. He's new to a foreign land. He needs quiet, not crowds." He leaned in close, golden light warming your face. "I'll take him to my temple. In the sun-reflecting white marble, he'll learn the meaning of true beauty."

Hermes chuckled. "A temple? Oh, of course. Sitting quietly in a cold room filled with incense and prayers, gazing at me like a statue. How romantic." He aimed his gaze at his brother suggestively.

You felt like you were being escorted by bodyguards, feeling your body being pulled in two directions. Your heart was still beating erratically, and even nature seemed to be on her side. It was as if the world was trying to play a trick on her while the two gods looked on enviously.

Finally, they agreed... or rather, they couldn't agree, so they each decided to take their chances. Hermes was the first to grab your hand and said playfully, "Come on, Athanasia. The village is almost here."

He led you down a cobblestone path, past rough-hewn marble walls. Villagers turned, and several small children followed you, curious about the stranger with shiny white hair. Hermes, in his light-hearted voice, described everything: the potter's wheel, the olive seller haggling loudly, the street musician playing the bamboo flute. You arrived at the temple. Tall pillars rose, atop which stood intricately carved figures of gods. Incense burned, white smoke rose, and the sounds of chanting could be heard from within.

You froze. The cold marble reflected the afternoon light. You saw a sculpture of Apollo, holding a lyre and a majestic smile. You glanced to the side, comparing the statue with the original next to it. They looked identical, but the original was far more lifelike.

Hermes snorted and pointed to his statue in the corner of the temple. "Hmm, look at that. Even in the my temple, I just a tiny creature next to Apollo. Isn't he annoying?" He looked at you with a forced wry smile. "At least we have a different audience now."

You chuckled, but also felt confused. Everything felt surreal, vivid, a far cry from the tranquil art museums you'd visited.

But before Hermes could drag you down any further, Apollo appeared on the other side, blasting the crowd with his fiery aura. They quickly stepped aside and knelt in respect. "That's enough," he said curtly, looking at Hermes. "He's no spectacle to your people."

Hermes shrugged. "I just want him to feel... alive. Hey, not everyone likes being trapped in your temple surrounded by mirrors, right?"

Apollo leans in and takes your other hand. Your body heats up against his touch, startling you. "Don't listen to him, Hermes always has problems" he says, as if there's no room for argument.

Hermes, not to be outdone, still holds your hand. "Tsk."

You're sandwiched between them, one hand held in Apollo's warm light, the other in Hermes's soft touch. The bystanders realize what's happening and begin whispering again: two brother gods fighting over a strange girl.

To stop things from getting any more chaotic, you take a deep breath, keeping your voice trembling but calm. "Maybe... we could walk together? I want to see this world. But... please... don't fight in front of me."

They're silent for a moment, then turn to you. Hermes smiles cunningly, Apollo glares sharply—but for the first time, they release their grip.

And so the journey continues. They lead you up a rocky path, and from the top you can see villages and olive groves against, and in the distance, a white marble temple shining in the afternoon sunlight.

You are transfixed by the view. So pure, so exotic. "So beautiful..." you murmur without thinking.

Apollo smiles, softer this time. "This is just a small part of Greece. Come with me and we'll see much more."

Hermes quickly interjected. "With me, you can lead me where even Apollo has never set foot—to secret caves, black markets, and thieves' passages."

You smiled awkward. Two different worlds, two different offers, two different gods—and all eyes were on you.

The wind started blowing again, stronger this time. Your hair was messy, your dress was flapping, and you instinctively pulled the thin fabric closer to your body. Hermes stifled a chuckle at the embarrassment on your face, while Apollo cast a dark gaze toward the sky, as if to tell Aeolus to stop teasing.

"Even the wind doesn't know its place," Apollo muttered coldly.

You felt your face heat up. "Don't blame the wind... Maybe it just wanted to make me feel welcome."

Hermes lightly patted your shoulder. "See, that's right. The winds greet you, the people gaze upon you, even the gods... well, you get it, right?" He looked challengingly at Apollo.

Apollo didn't answer, but his gaze grew deeper and deeper, as if taunting anyone, even he brother or the wind, to take you away.

You instinctively raised your gaze to the distant mountain. It towered above you, its peak shrouded in white clouds. Deep within you, you understood something. It wasn't just any mountain. It was Mount Olympus.

"Is that... the home of the gods?" you muttered softly, your voice trembling.

Apollo followed your gaze. "Yes. Mount Olympus awaits you."

Hermes added in a more mystical tone. "But remember, those who set foot on Mount Olympus. can never tread the same path again."

You didn't answer how will you meet them later, especially in front of the fearsome god Zeus. You can imagine how their faces will look when they see you as a woman of the future. The wind blew again, ruffling your hair and making your face shine even brighter. The two gods were silent. This time, not because they wanted to argue again, but because they were both mesmerized by your beautiful, flowing hair.

(Your modern world felt increasingly distant. But here, everything was real, beautiful, and terrifying all at once.)

And beside you, two great gods waited, each trying to claim you in their own way.

You just stared, tears filling your eyes again. A mixture of fear, awe, and disbelief. The mountain seemed to be laughing at you and calling to you all at the same time.

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Part : 3

You stand at the edge of a cobblestone road, your heart beating fast. Mount Olympus looms in the distance, seemingly watching your every step. The scent of olives and spices fills the air, sweet and bitter. The two gods beside you—majestic Apollo and mischievous Hermes—are like two sides of the same coin, each pulling you in a different direction.

"So, Athanasia," Apollo begins, his voice soft yet firm. "What do you want from this world? Do you want to return to where you came from? Or do you want to explore deeper?"

You stare at him, captivated by his piercing gaze. What do you want? The words play over and over in your head like a song. "I... want to understand. Why am I here? Why am I the chosen one?" Your voice trembles, filled with doubt.

Hermes leans closer to you, a mischievous smile on his face. "You're attractive, like a magnet to the gods. Especially Apollo." He glanced at his brother, teasing playfully. "Don't worry, I won't take you away from him just yet..."

Apollo frowned. "This is no joke, Hermes. This is a matter of fate. He has a greater role to play with than just a plaything." He looked at you. This time, you saw immeasurable depth. "You have the power to change things, Athanasia. The power to affect the timeline."

You shook your head, confused. "I'm just an artist. How can you change anything? I don't understand."

Hermes took a step closer, his eyes shining with passion. "You're more than just an artist. You're a bridge between two worlds. With every stroke of your pencil, you resurrect history and breathe life into myth. And it's here, among the gods, that you'll find that power."

You were taken aback by Hermes' words. Myth? History? Perhaps this was part of something bigger? You bit your lip, trying to understand. "But... if I had such power, what would I do? What would be expected of me?"

Apollo cleared his throat. The hustle and bustle of the marketplace behind you fell silent. It was as if the world around you was waiting for your answer. "Athanasia, you must choose. Return to the world you know, or stay and learn your powers. If you stay, you will have a responsibility to bear."

You looked up at Mount Olympus. A vision of the future flickered before your eyes. "What responsibility?" you asked, barely above a whisper.

"To preserve history, to maintain the balance between our world and the one you left," Apollo answered. "You can be a guardian. Not just a painter, but an artist who writes destinies."

Meanwhile, Hermes stepped forward and added passionately: "If you choose to stay, let me be your guide! Let's explore this world. Perhaps we can find a way to bring some of this magic back to your other world!"

You were torn between two options: a safe, familiar life or a mysterious adventure. Then, a voice inside you whispered, confirming this was the chance of a lifetime.

"But what about the people I left behind?" you asked, tears welling up in your eyes. "What about my family? my friends?"

Apollo looked at you with empathy. "Being part of Olympus means you have the power to protect them from afar. With your power, you can connect the two worlds and ensure their safety."

You looked at Hermes and saw hope in his eyes. "Do you want me to stay?"

He smiled genuinely and nodded. "Athanasia, you make everything more alive. With you, every day is a new adventure. Let's build a legend together."

A deep sense of loss washed over you, and you took a deep breath. Two gods, two choices, and one decision that would change your life forever. In an instant, all doubt vanished.

"I... want to stay," you say, your voice trembling but determined. "I want to learn, explore, and color this world in ways never before seen."

Apollo's gaze lights up, and Hermes' smile widens. "Then, welcome, Athanasia, to our world," Apollo says, extending his hand. "Let's begin our journey."

And as your hand touched Apollo's, you felt a surge of energy surge through you. A promise, a commitment, and a new life.

The sun was setting behind you, painting the sky with colors you'd never seen before. This was the beginning of an epic story, full of adventure, challenges, and surprises.

Hope and excitement welled up within you, and you smiled. "This is the beginning of a crazy story," you whispered, you mumble the same words.

Father-son moment

This is an fanart based on the @sonic-god-complex comic. (srry for ping)

Older Odysseus: Hey! Stop him right now!

Odysseus: Who are you?

Older Odysseus: I am you

Odysseus: How can you be me? I am me! Who are you?!

Older Odysseus: No, not you, my name is you

Odysseus: This is so confusing!... Why are you here you?

Older Odysseus: I came from the FUTURE!

Odysseus: the FUTURE!!!

Older Odysseus: Yes, from the future, for-- *see Eurylochus trying to steal the bag*