#twatd

female awesome meme: females in literature [1/10] ↝ shahrzad al-khayzuran

I was going to take a nap but I saw this and I was like "oh i need to tdo this noooow!"

So lets get to is shall we Nonnie?

Top 5 6 enemies to lovers series:

For the sake of talking about another thing besides Sarah J Maas' books I will say that ACOTAR is top in this list. ACOTAR is an amazing iteration of the enemies to lovers that has all the staples that you love in the trope but also I think challenges it in a way that adds depth.

These Violent Delights by Chloe Gong. If you have been following me since July then you know that I have been trying to spread my TVD agenda. It's an R&J retelling that gives you text book enemies to lovers but to the 100th power. I cannot talk about how amazing the chemistry in this book and how nice the characters manage the dynamic. It gives you angst and the step by step of the trope without feeling repetitive because everything is taken to the limit of the emotion. PLEASE READ THIS BOOK PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE.

The Folk of the Air by Holly Black. I mean.. I mean Jude will hold for dear life to the enemies while Cardan just like can we please be lovers now. Kiss me, kiss me until I am sick of it. Who is doing it like them? no one. Their chemistry is as intoxicating as Cardan's wine.

The Invisible Life of Addie Larue by V. E Schwab. I have done a whole post on why this is an archetypical Enemies to Lovers that goes to the core of the trope and makes a dance out of it. But like don't read it if you have not read the book.

Kingdom of the Wicked by Kerri Maniscalco. What I love about these books is that even though they give you a pretty staple enemies to lovers arc, it also offers an interesting ACOMAF type twist...another way to understand the enemies component of these arcs. This is your daily reminder that not only can Prince Wrath get it any fucking day and that we share the same tattoo.

The Bridge Kingdom by Danielle L. Jensen. They are classic enemies to lovers. Like the og recipe just like your filthy into smut grandma used to make it. Just what the doctor ordered.

The Wrath and The Dawn by Renee Adieh. Talk about a fucking underrated duology. A 1001 nights retelling it is engaging and interesting. The context is rich and the world luxurious in its imagination. It's very much a "I need to kill you but maybe I like how the sun makes your eyes shine" book. Not so much a slow burn but still doesn't take away from the tension it aims to build.

Bonuuuuuuussss: I have not finished this series so I can't tell you exactly how they go, but so far The Conqueror's Saga by Kiersten White delivers a very good enemies to lovers to be continued. Retelling of Count Vlad, bit of violence, bit of betrayal, bit of passion and love.. and we're good to go.

An Ember in the Ashes by Sabaa Tahir. Frankly I am saddened by the lack of content and hype around this books. Set in an "ancient rome" inspired world a Laia seeks answers for the loss of her brother and ends up working at the seat of the military power of the oppressive regime. Enter Elias, a boy that even though is disenchanted with the life he has been living as a student in the same seat of military power, still marches to the beat of the power that gave him a privilege upbringing. It is amazing it is filled with angst and slow burn enemies to lovers.

📖: 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑾𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑫𝒂𝒘𝒏 (𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑊𝑟𝑎𝑡ℎ 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐷𝑎𝑤𝑛 #1) 🏹🌅🦅

Remy Teo, Nyx, Trans man he/him, former bartender, specialises in Rave/Club Music

Roman Reyes, Venus, Genderfluid he/him mainly but uses all pronouns, specialises in theatrical music and pop

Virgil DiMarco, Arachne, NB they/them, specialises in your classic ‘emo music’ i.e. pop punk, etc

??? ???, Janus, Agender all pronouns but really likes she/her atm, big into swing and jazz music sometimes trying out electro swing

Remus Reyes, Loki, Genderfluid any pronouns as well as neopronouns, 100% Heavy Metal, mostly specifically pirate metal (think Alestorm for an example)

Logan Bertram, Thoth, Trans man He/Him, goes with operatic ballads publically but also does slam poetry and rap battles in the subways at night

Patton Hart, Dagda, Cismale (questioning) he/him, mostly does stuff like golden oldies and Post Modern Jukebox kinda stuff

Emile Picani, Lono, Genderfluid they/she/he (will indicate which on a given day), lots of cutesy bubblegum pop and a ton of indie music --- There’s four more characters in the au but their designs aren’t done yet. Most of the above are subject to change so yeah, I know it’s a niche au but I hope you all like them anyway.

If you get the chance PLEASE read The Wicked And The Divine, it’s so cool!

yalitmeme: [7/10] book/series

the wrath and the dawn

Second fic for this year’s @sandersidesbigbang !

Thank you to my beta, @kaythegay2022 for doing their best on the shortest notice (and getting super into the lore of the fic and yelling at me about it /affectionate <3)

A huge thank you to my artists too! The wonderful @purplecrayonismine who made this lovely piece and the awesome @charlie-dawg who drew this tense scene.

Once again thank you to the lovely @nyxi-styx for letting me include their OC, Eden Sanders/ Olmeda for the purposes of the gay, just bass boosted this time.

If you’d prefer AO3, you can read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41640597

(Tumblr really ate the formatting so sorry about that)

-

The Wicked And The Divine AU: The characters are reincarnated gods, they live as celebrities for two years then they’re gone for 90 years. (highly recommend the comic series it’s very good)

Word Count: 12285 words (woAH)

Pairings: OCxOC (Marcus x Eden), hinted Prinxiety (current), Dukeceit, hinted Roceit (past), hinted Intrulogical (past)

Content Warnings: Remus being Remus, swearing, sexual jokes and references (no actual sex though), murder mention, hinted abusive past relationships, hinted past toxic relationships, flirting, Remus has some Hot Takes tm - Be warned, there’s some funky chronology for this fic - Rated: Mature (see above)

Summary: Scoring the interviews of their lifetime, Eden and Marcus dive into the world of the Pantheon; fame and fortune, endless worship, a life of luxury and unbridled power. All fighting with endless scrutiny, misery, the loss of their former lives, and limited time on this Earth.

It’s tough to be a God.

~~

“Alright, now Marcus, remember to-”

“To make sure the camera’s working, yes, I know.” 

Marcus mumbled as he checked the settings were in working order, “It’s like you actually think I’m just that incompetant…”

Eden rolled his eyes, “I’m merely taking the initiative to remind you. We can’t afford any slip ups, we get one shot at each interview. I’d rather not try to live to be over 100 years old just to try again if we mess up now, especially after everything we just went through.” “I know, I know.”, Marcus sighed,an exhausted irritation in his tone, “Trust me, I can do something this simple without fucking it up, I promise.” Eden’s expression softened into a worried, somewhat guilty glance, “Marcus– ” A knock at the door sounded, interrupting their conversation. Eden stood quickly, gathering his notes while Marcus held the camera and the equipment bag. A light, dreamy voice came from the room on the other side of the door, “You can come in now.” With a moment taken for them to mentally prepare, the two entered the room.

Venus’ boudoir was as fanciful and expensive as they’d both imagined; rococo decals, a four poster double bed adorned with rosy silken sheets and crimson sheer curtains. A lavish wardrobe loomed over the cream shag carpet while an ornate white vanity table edged with rose gold cradled an impressive array of makeup and jewellery. Dresses that cost more than Marcus’ first car hung on a clothing rack next to a folding screen printed with rose patterns. Overkill came in the form of a chandelier above the bed.

Luxury was an understatement as far as Venus was concerned.

Venus sat on the end of the bed clad in an off-white poet’s shirt coupled with a burgundy long skirt; his leg sat crossed over the other while he leant forward, allowing his right arm to rest along his leg and his chin to rest on his left palm. His smile glistened – something Marcus had thought was a bullshit fanfiction trope up until that moment – but his eyes never once left the duo as they entered the room.

“Please,” Venus purred in a shiver-inducing dulcet. “Take a seat.”

Eden did as instructed, sitting in the provided armchair while Marcus set up the tripod for the camera. Venus gave a fond smile, “It’s been a while since I’ve been on camera.”

“Weren’t you recently cast in a commercial for your recent perfume line?” Eden asked.

Venus hummed, dismissing the rebuttal with a wave of their manicured hand, “Yes, but that’s par for the course when you’re this famous. It all begins to blend into utter mundanity, however this kind of plebeian, vlogger journalism affair is far more of a rarity when you’re someone like me.”

Marcus rolled his eyes but said nothing, letting Eden do the interview properly.

“Right, well, just think of this interview as one would think of a catch-up with an acquaintance; we have personalised questions that fans of yours have been keen to receive answers to. You needn’t be formal with your responses nor should you feel the need to censor yourself in any capacity.” Eden added with a touch of levity, “We’ve already interviewed everyone, including both Nyx and Loki, so take that as your cue to be as open and brutally honest as you’d like.”

With a sharp inhale, Venus adjusted his seating, “Ah. I don’t envy you. Loki especially has always been… like that.” 

He sighed, “How naive I was to assume I’d stop apologising for their behaviour once we aged past ten. But never mind that! This isn’t the time for such a topic, what questions do you have for me?”

Eden made a mental note to come back to the family topic and moved on, “Well, the main question we found coming up quite often was simply to do with your skincare routine. Would you be willing to share that with us?”

With an excited grin, Venus complied, “Well, an air of mystery is important, buuuut I suppose I can give you the basics-”

Marcus hid a quiet sigh; he’d watched Eden do this over and over today; throw a few easy questions, let them lower their guard, then come in with the hard hitting questions. The results … varied, to put it lightly, but they always got results.

Wincing at his thoughts, Marcus let his thoughts wander, taking in more of the room. It occurred to Marcus that not everyone could stomach having a lifesize portrait of themselves in their bedroom — and he was one of them. It made him uneasy, really. Why go to the trouble of having so many effigies of yourself? A painting here, a statue there, several posters, figurines, and other items of merchandise.

It was a little nauseating, so Marcus focused on keeping his gaze moving. A corkboard of playbills, the odd gift from fans, and the photo frames placed upon higher shelves just out of view made this ‘god’ feel a little more human. Cursing his own refusal to actually wear the glasses he needed, Marcus squinted a little as he caught sight of a particular photo frame cast aside to the point it was nearly entirely hidden. He tried to make out what it was of, only being able to deduce the faintest glimpse of what looked like Venus himself–

“Anything catching your fancy?”

Marcus snapped out of his thoughts, meeting eyes with an amused Venus and an unsurprised Eden. He shook his head, “No, just… looking, I guess.”

Eden huffed a small sigh, “Please try to keep an eye on the camera, Marcus.”

“Now, now, it’s alright. I don’t mind.” Venus assured them both. “Though I do prefer to be the centre of attention myself.”

“Believe us, we’ve noticed.” Eden retorted playfully, though his tone slipped back into the matter-of-fact interview style he had employed time and time again, “Is that why you came to Ananke begging her for godhood just a month after your twin was reincarnated as Loki?”

The shift in the room was palpable. Venus had hardly shifted, but their posture tensing combined with the subtle drop in his expression made the room feel suffocating. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t quite understand what you mean. We’re chosen, we don’t get to simply request godhood.”

“Really? You see, we heard directly from Loki that –”

“They’re my twin, and it’s no secret we’re rather… adversarial at the moment given recent circumstances. There’s not much they wouldn’t say to get under my skin.” Venus bristled behind their saccharine sweet smile.

“Well, that might be true. But we were given a similar account from Nyx as well via his twitter.” Eden added, continuing, “I don’t think–”

Venus’ eyes locked onto Eden’s in an instant, the action threatening, but with what, neither interviewer could say. “This is Nyx we’re talking about, he’s a nosey little gossip who likes to stir up drama and cause trouble anywhere he goes. There isn’t much he wouldn’t do to be the centre of attention, even the local authorities know that very well by now.” Their tone grew venomous, “Again I remind you of the facts; we’re all chosen. Even if I had been desperate enough to beg to be one of the Pantheon, if it wasn’t meant to be, then it wouldn’t be. I’m here for a reason, and that makes me just as special and worthy as any of the others, including Loki–!” 

He took a breath in, calmly collecting himself, “Now then, shall we talk about something less awful? I have a new range of cosmetics lined up to release for–”

“Is it true you and Janus were seeing each other?” Eden interjected. He wasn’t about to go easy on Venus now. 

They scoffed offendedly, “Janus and I? Please, she’s thoroughly unpleasant. And a habitual liar. I can hardly stand to share a room with her.”

“Maybe now, but we have sources that say that you and her had been romantically involved in the early days of the pantheon–”

“It’s funny you should be so concerned about my relationships.” Venus responded firmly, a half smirk tugging at his lips, “I’m much more curious about yours. Specifically with Marcus here.” A swirl of scattering crimson and rosey reds danced in Venus’ eyes like falling petals; Eden and Marcus both felt a chill run through them, like Venus was staring into their very souls.

The God of Love smiled, sweetly, as if nothing were amiss, “It’s fascinating, seeing true love in action.” He mused, ignoring the stunned looks from both parties, “How rude of you to hide your relationship around me, of all people.” His smile grew knowing, more of a smirk, “I can feel it, clear as crystal. You both tried your best to hide it but your love for one another is overwhelming. Even now, it’s potent; the desire to be closer, wishing you were laid in each other’s arms, the undying love and devotion you both shine with…” 

Venus gave a dreamy little sigh, “Oh to be so enraptured with another as you both are. I could only dream of such a life, but as things stand,” The god’s expression flashed a momentary look of longing. “That kind of thing, for someone such as I, is out of the question.”

That look disappeared as quickly as it came and Venus flicked their wrist dismissively, “You know, you can wear your rings now if you’d like. Despite that disgusting rumour going around I don’t get off on other people’s relationships.”

They grinned, “Without their express consent, of course.” In spite of the reassurance, Eden defensively held his questions tighter to himself, pulling the papers closer as if to shield him from Venus’ sensory abilities. Marcus found himself crossing his arms in a blocking gesture; partly protective, partly self soothing.

“Venus, with all due respect, please refrain from doing anything like that again. It’s invasive and unpleasant.” Eden scolded in a firm tone. 

Venus simply snorted, “I don’t think you get to make that call, Olmeda. Not when you’re digging for private information of mine. I also find your prying invasive and unpleasant.”

Knowing Eden was growing frustrated, Marcus spoke up, “How about a deal? Information for information. You give us answers that the people want, and we tell you whatever you want to know about our relationship.”

Intrigued, Venus studied Marcus with a curious glance, “And what’s to stop me from simply gleaning that information for myself, hm?” 

“Easy. We’ll leave if you refuse. You admitted you love attention, and you’re clearly enjoying trying to work out what our love life is like, so if we leave now that’s gonna suck for you. That and you’ll have the shortest interview with us. Something tells me you won’t like Loki, Nyx, and Janus having more of a presence in our article than you.”

Eden gave Marcus an uncertain side glance, and Marcus began to momentarily wonder if Venus wouldn’t just tell them to leave anyway. Instead, Venus gave a thoughtful hum, “Alright. Very well, you’ve made your point.” He drummed his fingers atop his knee, 

“To answer your last question, yes. At first, I pursued Janus. She’s an avid lover of theatre, has a rather artistic eye, and is a connoisseur of all things luxurious. I misguidedly assumed she and I would get on like a house on fire. Now I find myself wishing she’d get locked inside said house and burn.” 

Venus huffed in annoyance, “We were carnally involved for a while before we tried going on an actual date. She seemed like fun, honestly; a little domineering and such, but if I’m to be truthful, that was part of the appeal at the time. On our first date she seemed to be enjoying it just as much as I was; I regaled her with tales of my exploits, and she found me charming – or so she said at the time. But then I went to her twitter the day after and lo and behold, she’s vague-tweeting about me!!”

He agitatedly gesticulated as he explained, “She called me arrogant! Of all people! That alone I could perhaps forgive her for, but she ruthlessly slandered me for forty tweets!! Forty!! Calling me self-centred, egotistical, frivolous, you name it I can probably dig up a tweet where it’s been applied to me by her slanderous words!” He cleared his throat, “So naturally, our second date ended in a row and several destroyed Olive Garden tables. If her same twitter thread is to be believed, she also had the gall to steal our table’s breadsticks. Ever since then, I have made it a mission to avoid her at all costs.”

Eden exhaled, unaware he’d been holding that breath for a moment, “Well… that’s certainly one way to break up.”

“Indeed, if you can even call it that. But enough about me, I want you both to tell me all about your most intimate moments.” Venus leant forward, eyes rosey aglow with curiosity and intrigue, “What did it feel like to realise you were madly in love?”

-

“It was fucking terrifying.”

“I can imagine. It must be a lot of pressure to find out you’re the reincarnation of a mythological figure, Arachne.”

Arachne gave a huff of a reply, “No kidding. You go from being a regular person to this idol for people who wanna pretend their lives don’t suck, who want you to take all that away for a couple hours. For the first couple of shows it feels good. Really good. You feel… genuinely special. You’re out there giving your gospel and people are looking at you like you matter.”

They anxiously shuffled their position on the pitch black chaise long, “And then all of a sudden you’re just numb to it. Sometimes you walk out on stage and you think “Holy shit, I’m dying before I’ll ever see thirty for this?”.”

Eden nodded, listening with a quiet sympathy, “To continue from your point, how do you all come to terms with your mortality? As I understand, you’re all invulnerable to most damage, it must feel unfair that you’re only given two years left to live from the moment of your awakening.”

Arachne shifted again. From behind the camera, Marcus felt the pangs of empathy tug at him whenever they’d fidget like that. Being first up on the chopping block to field these kinds of questions must be daunting enough as it is, let alone when you’re someone with a clear anxiety disorder of some kind.

“It… sucks. I mean, obviously it does. I don’t think any of the Pantheon is happy about it – and if they are then good for them I guess – but none of us have a choice anyway so why should we keep thinking about it every damn day?” Arachne took a deep breath, in and out in a steadying gesture, “Everyone knows they’ll die someday, but they keep living. The only real difference between us and some regular people is that we know when that day will come.“

“Why waste time worrying.” Marcus echoed the sentiment. Arachne nodded.

“Exactly. We’re all on the same boat and this motherfucker’s going to sink eventually. So why not try to enjoy the ride before it hits the iceberg? At least, that’s what Lono and Dagda keep saying. Personally, I’m wishing I never bought the stupid boat ticket in the first place.”

“That’s understandable. I can’t imagine you get much time to adapt.” Eden mused as he flicked through his question sheets. He reorganised them and asked, “On that note, how do you all handle romantic relationships? It must be hard to form them knowing you’ll only have two years to explore anything on a deeper level.”

The question looked like it threw Arachne for a loop. Their black fingernails tapped against the edge of the chaise as they worked to find an answer, “Well, outside of one night stands, most of us avoid that whole thing. Sure, some of us are a lot closer than others, but we have an understanding. No deeper feelings, no expectations, no fruitlessly wishing things were different. At least, that’s the agreement Princey and I have.”

Marcus raised an eyebrow, “Princey?”

Arachne tensed for a moment like they’d been shocked, “Oh. Uh, Venus. That’s just something I call him. It’s stupid, whatever. Can we talk about literally anything else?” 

“Unfortunately, that leads too well into our next question; you’ve recently been spotted out on what appear to be dates with Venus. Despite your previous sentiment, people have come to suspect you two are more involved than you claim. Is that true?”

From the tips of Arachne’s fingers slowly grew tiny silken webs. They clung to the edge of the chaise and soon reached the floor, flowering out like frost gathering on a window pane. The odd little white spider travelled along the webs in panicked tandem with Arachne’s racing thoughts. 

“That’s a bit personal, Venus and I are friends. Don’t make things out to be something they’re not.”

“You did say we could get personal-”

“Yeah, in regards to myself. Not the people around me.” “You were more than happy to discuss your feelings regarding the others, namely Nyx in particular.” Eden flipped through his notes, “You had quite a bit to say about him on your public blog.”

Arachne huffed. They tilted their gaze in thought, the silvery webs hidden in their hair softly swayed with the movement like afterimages, “That’s different.” They looked like they wanted to say more but instead of elaborating, they picked up their wine glass and gulped it down. Now that the duo could get a better look at the colour, Eden and Marcus could tell that it was full of what looked like gatorade. Neither one made a comment on it.

“How so? I would imagine anything you say here would be better worded than a blog post made out of frustration.” Eden queried.

Arachne scoffed, “Made out of frustration. You say that like I regret anything I said about that asshole. Besides, I’m not the only one who thinks he’s the worst. I’m pretty sure everyone does, with the exception of Dagda, and maybe Lono. I’m pretty sure they’re both incapable of any kind of malice. Even after everything Nyx put us through.”

Marcus snorted, “Sounds about right. I’ve never seen either of them in concert, but from what I hear it’s like being drowned in sunshine and marshmallows.”

That got a chuckle out of Arachne, “You’re right, it’s overwhelming and really fucking suffocating. ‘Aggressive Positivity’ Dagda calls it. It’s awful. I don’t see the appeal in unending ‘good vibes’.”

Eden finally located the notes he’d been looking for and put them aside for later, “Well, some people like the comfort and reassurance of security. For some, there’s safety in that kind of stability.”

“It’s anxiety inducing, that’s what it is.” Arachne scoffed, “I can respect Lono’s stance on it. They’re always saying it’s on your terms to come to them with your problems. But Dagda’s always trying to get me to join in his gospel, saying it’ll help me relax, but it feels so forced all it does is make me feel…”

-

“... trapped.”

Eden nodded, a note of sympathy in his tone, “I see. You’ve never spoken publicly about your previous situation before becoming one of the Pantheon, Dagda. So why now?”

The jovial man sitting opposite them shrugged, “Well, you two aren’t working for some huge news network or any papers, I don’t have to worry about you taking my words and twisting them.”

Oh boy. Marcus bit back what he wanted to say for the sake of the interview. This guy was a good three years their senior and yet he was still so naive. He could tell in the way that Eden was sitting that his boyfriend was already feeling sympathetic towards Dagda. He couldn’t blame him. Marcus found that generally a lot of the people who met Dagda either pitied him, protected him, or had no time for him. From their research, a majority of the Pantheon seemed to fall into the latter category.

“I appreciate your faith in us.” Eden responded, “Now, would you care to elaborate on what you told us? About your life before the Pantheon making you feel ‘trapped’ as you put it?”

Dagda exhaled a soft breath, “I can’t say a whole lot on account of privacy and such, but –”

The god in front of them paused and cast a glance back at the doorway they’d entered through. Eden seemed to put it out of mind, but Marcus felt a shudder rattle him. He focused back on Dagda who continued from where he left off.

“Sometimes,” he began, running his middle and index fingers of his right hand along the ring finger of his left, “you try and put yourself into a role because you’re taught it’s what’s right. And sure, maybe you’re not happy right then, but you will be soon. Or you’re supposed to.” Dagda exhaled, quickly clasping his hands; an effort to stop his nervous tics no doubt. Marcus watched a faint blue shape flutter by Dagda’s left shoulder for a moment before it faded away. He convinced himself it was an optical illusion and trained his attention back on the celtic god.

“But then one day you’re halfway into your twenties and you’re married to someone you don’t even love.” 

His posture slumped, the sparkle in his eyes utterly gone, “But you can’t leave because you went and had kids together – because that's what you’re meant to do – and if you leave you’re the monster even when you never got a say in them being conceived, and it’s not even your fault you only like men—!” 

Dagda gasped softly. Without a word, the duo watched the god wipe his eyes and plaster on a smile. Eden and Marcus didn’t need more than a glance between them to know they both felt terrible for him. 

“Sorry about that! Jeez, I brought the mood down, huh? Let’s see, what should we talk about instead?”

Eden nodded, “Of course. Perhaps we could change the subject and talk about–”

-

“Ananke? Like, why do you care about that old hag when you’re here with me, babes?”

Nyx pointed at himself lazily but with a practised flourish for emphasis. 

“I’m totes more interesting than her. Besides, none of us like, knows anything about her anyway. She just showed up one day and went “congrats, now you’re totally a god”! Like sure, it sucks total cactus dick only getting two years to be a literal celebrity then dying, but it’s not like we haven’t all agreed to just deal with it.”

“... Right, well, if you insist on talking about yourself, is it true that you’re able to move the stars themselves for your performances when such a feat should be catastrophic on a planetary scale?” 

Nyx snorted at Eden’s question, making Marcus bristle. He didn’t like this jerk one bit, yet he said nothing for now.

“Okay, so, that’s like, an exaggeration of what I do, but kinda.” Nyx explained, “It’s like I turn up their volume. Make them like, brighter. The universe is my lighting rig, if you get what I mean.”

Nyx rolled onto his stomach on the backless chaise he lay on; clad in a blue sheer silk nightgown over a crop top and booty shorts, it was hard to tell if he was just being ‘playful’ or if he was really treating their interview with as little respect as it seemed he was.

“If you’ll forgive me–” Eden began.

“You’re forgiven.” Nyx winked.

Marcus seethed.

“Yes, now back to our questions; you’re rather outspoken on all forms of social media, do you worry about your privacy? Perhaps about anyone tracing your previous accounts from before you became a god?”

“Fuck no. I don’t hide that shit like, at all. The others are all like “Oh we need to keep everything separate! Someone finding out who we used to be is so bad!” Blah blah blah, it’s all total bullshit, babes. Ananke has everyone so spooked about people cyberstalking them or whatever, but it’s like, gonna happen someday, might as well be honest about it.”

Marcus deadpanned, “It just sounds like you’re the only one who really can’t hide their identity if you tried. It’s not like your face is all over the internet on every conceivable social media site or anything, right?”

Nyx clicked his tongue indignantly, “Sarcasm and jealousy make you like, way uglier, just an FYI sweetie. Not that that dollar store tangerine head condom was doing you any favours before but~”

“... Eden, hold the camera-”

“No.” Eden stated firmly, “We’re not getting thrown out because you brawled with one of the Pantheon, mi amor.”

Marcus still wanted to kick the shit out of the rude brat in front of them but he listened to Eden and took a deep breath. He was about to apologise when Nyx chimed in, “Wait, you’re dating him?” 

Nyx snorted, talking past Marcus to Eden, “You, a literal ten, are dating like… a four at most? Weak shit.”

“If we could avoid aiming insults at the love of my life, I’d like to continue with the questions if you’d please, Mr. Teo?”

Nyx gave an unimpressed glare from behind his sunglasses, “Using my family name is like, the dumbest way to try and provoke me, babes. Like you said, people know it. It’s out there. You’re gonna have to try way harder, sweetie–”

“So remind me, what exactly happened with that officer at the Ragnarok concert? We all saw the footage, so I’m wondering why you’re still sitting here and not in a jail cell.”

Marcus interrupted bluntly. He knew Eden would have worked up to it instead of just blurting it out but fuck it. This little shit wanted to toy with them and Marcus wasn’t having it anymore.

The question sure did its job. Nyx immediately became defensive, on edge like a cat waiting to strike.

“Wow, you’re gonna just come for me like that, huh? Sorry, but I’m not explaining jack fucking shit to you.” Much to Eden’s dismay, Marcus couldn’t resist snarking right back at Nyx.

“So that’s a ‘No Comment’ then? Kinda cowardly with all the shit talking you’ve done up til now. But I guess I’d wanna avoid talking about how far Ananke and the rest Pantheon will go to cover shit up. Even first degree murder-”

In a swift movement that left his silk nightgown to ripple behind him like a trail of stars, Nyx stood in front of Marcus, hand outstretched with his fingers poised to snap. Nyx’s eyes – cold and unsettling in their resemblance to twin full moons against azure black starry skies – bore into Marcus’ soul like he was trying to burn him to cinders.

“You have like, no fucking idea what you’re playing with here.” Remy hissed, “But if you’re that desperate to die, be my guest.”

Marcus glared back at Nyx. It’d become a matter of pride at this point.

“I could do it, like, so easily. Just one click of my fingers,” Nyx trailed off; his thumb circled around the tip of his middle finger, then his eyes snapped back to Marcus’, “And your entire head’ll explode like a watermelon.”

Studying to be a medical student, Eden was used to stressful situations. Open surgery, making split second decisions, those things never really phased him in text or practise.

Watching a literal reincarnated God pettily threaten to pop his stubborn fiancé’s head mid-interview was the most stressful thing he’d ever experienced in his life.

“... We should drop this.” Eden finally managed to say aloud, but neither Marcus nor Nyx seemed to be listening. 

Both were locked in a silent but deadly glaring contest. For a moment, Eden wondered if he really saw Nyx’s hand shake, however his attention was focused on Marcus. His fiancé was stubborn to a fault – Eden knew that all too well ever since they’d met as children – but even he could see how terrified Marcus was underneath his mask of anger. They both knew the entire Pantheon were all capable of what Nyx was threatening, so it wasn’t a question of if he could do it, but more so if he would do it.

Seconds felt like an eternity, each waiting for the other to give up and back down. It wasn’t until Marcus anxiously spotted Nyx’s fingers tense, readying to move. His breathing was quiet but still felt so heavy, until he finally uttered. “Don’t-”

Nyx snapped their fingers. 

Marcus’ eyes clamped shut in fear.

Eden let out a strangled noise, somewhere between a yell and a gasp.

And then… nothing.

Marcus opened his eyes, rattled to his core. His hand nearest Eden felt like it was nearly being crushed by his fiance’s strong terrified grip. 

Nyx still stood in front of him, looking apparently apathetic to the torment he’d just caused. In the God of Night’s hand was a pin from his last concert. As if it was all just a terrible magic trick, Nyx let the pin fall onto Marcus’ lap.

“Get your shit and leave. Like, now.”

Eden was happy to oblige. He turned off the camera and packed the bags quickly; he would’ve let Marcus do so, but his fiancé was still sat shell shocked. He was still shaken to his core and Eden couldn’t blame him; they’d both seen the Ragnarok footage, everyone knew what the Gods were capable of. One snap, that was all it took.

Bag packed, Eden knelt by Marcus’ side, “Mi amor… we need to go. You just need to stand up and we can leave, okay?” 

He made sure not to touch Marcus without his consent, though Eden gently waved a hand in front of Marcus’ face, “Nod or blink if you can hear me, then again if you’re ready to leave.”

Shakily, Marcus nodded – once, then again – and Eden moved back to let him up. Once Marcus was on his feet, he had to lean against Eden for a moment so he could stop trembling. While he cradled the love of his life in his arms, Eden caught a glimpse of Nyx’s expression; with Nyx’s eyes free from their usual shaded confines, he could read the night god’s expression clear as day. 

Concern and remorse.

Eden wasn’t a vindictive person, hardly a petty one, but as he felt his fiancé’s rapid heartbeat against his chest, all he could think was, “Good. You should be fucking sorry.”

Once Marcus had calmed down, Eden sent him ahead with most of the bags, barely noticing Nyx approaching, “... I totally wouldn’t have done it. Like, not for reals-”

“I don’t care.” Eden responded harshly, “You scared the love of my life near to death. You may have forgotten, but he’s human with feelings and fears.”

Eden put his notes back in his bag and slung it over his shoulder. He had already soundly shut the door behind him when Remy mumbled, “None of us have forgotten, you asshole…”

-

In the hallway nestled between their equipment bags, Marcus sat with his back to the wall; he’d pulled his knees up to his chest, burying his face into them while his arms were the barrier that kept out the straggling cracks of light.

He shouldn’t be surprised, he goaded a literal god into action for the sake of their recording.

He literally poked the bear and now he’s mad it nearly mauled him to death.

A shaky whimper left him just as he felt a familiar warmth to his left followed by the subtle rustle of fabric.

“... We should give up.”

Marcus lifted his head slowly – eyes red and still shiny with tears – to meet Eden’s warm worry-filled gaze, “What-?”

“We should give up on this and go home. We still have other interviewees waiting but I quite frankly don’t want to keep this up if there’ll be a repeat-”

“There won’t.”

Marcus wiped at his eyes, trying to sound like he hadn’t been inches from sobbing again.

“E, we need this. We just… I just need to not speak as much as possible.” He unceremoniously wiped his nose on his jacket’s sleeve, “Every time I open my stupid fucking mouth I just make shit worse — !”

Before he could blink, Marcus found himself held tightly in Eden’s arms; comfort bled into his bones instantly, were he not still reeling from the run-in with Nyx, he’d have fully melted into his fiancé’s love.

“I keep telling you, you’re not stupid. You’re reckless, but never stupid.”

The two of them were quiet for a moment before Eden finally spoke up, “We’ll finish our work. Our last three gods, then we’ll go home but I want you to promise me that if anything like what just happens occurs again, we leave immediately.”

He softly tilts Marcus’ chin toward him, “Do I have your word, mi amor?”

How could Marcus refuse Eden when he’s being so tender? So sweet?

-

“Yes, of course.”

Lono merrily tapped her pastel nails against her She Ra mug.

“I mean, life in the Pantheon is great, but it’s a little stressful, what with me playing therapist one moment then having to whip up some tech alongside Thoth the next.I prefer to be useful though, even if it’s a little much. I just don’t want to feel like I could’ve spent my time more wisely before It happens.”

“By ‘it’,” Eden began, pen poised to continue his notations, “you’re referring to your Death Date, correct?”

Lono gave a solemn nod, her melancholic smile remaining, “Yep. I take it Arachne probably filled you in on it already then?”

“To a degree, yes. However, they neglected to answer part of the inquiry we posed; what actually happens when your time is up? There’s speculation, and previous footage and documentation regarding the Recurrences of the past are vague at best and inconsistent at worst. Would you happen to give us any insight as to what will actually happen?”

Humming, only the rhythmic clink of Lono’s nails against her necklace could be heard for the moment. Being a god associated with music, it wasn’t surprising to note that each tap sounded far more enticing than regular tapping stims.

“It’s actually a mystery to most of us as well. Ananke just tells us we’ll know what to do when it’s our time, and Thoth is pretty avoidant of the whole topic. So we’re just as clueless. We know it’s some form of mortal death where our bodies die and our spirits live on somehow, but other than that… I can’t give you a solid answer.”

Her attention changed from Eden to Marcus, “... Is the topic a little heavy for you? I can answer another question.”

Marcus snapped out of the daze he was in, “Oh, um…”

He hadn’t even noticed he was still rather shaken with the topic.

“Uh, sure. Sorry.”

Eden’s fingers softly laced with Marcus’ own. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to; Marcus gave him the most gentle little squeeze in response. A non-verbal I’ll be alright. Lono watched the exchange with a sad smile, gently tapping on the pretty coloured glass panel of the coffee table between them rather than outright interrupting their moment.

“I think you two need some tea, to help calm that tension you’re carrying.” She stood up, reassuring them before Eden could protest, “You can still ask me your questions, I can brew it pretty quickly.”

To that end, Lono took out a dainty little glass teapot, a brewing stand, and placed a flowering plant Marcus had never seen before. Immediately the gloom hanging over him seemed to shift. Eden could hardly hide his relieved smile, it felt far less daunting to see Marcus’ mind focus on something besides their run-in with Nyx. The back and forth with Lono and Marcus – the latter excitedly probing the god as to which plants they hybridised to produce the final flora while the former refused to give away her secrets with a merry little chuckle – took precedence for the moment, letting Eden silently admire his fiancé under the guise of going over his notes.

Vaguely aware of Lono brewing the tea by the time he clocked back into the conversation, Eden watched the indigo blue tea begin to boil. The smell was intoxicating, a mix of floral and surprisingly fruity scents: lemon, wood, and something akin to hibiscus but not quite that.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to ask for clarification, Marcus spoke up, his floral expertise shining through, “There’s definitely lemon balm in there.” 

Lono smiled, nodding, impressed,  “Mhm. Any other guesses?”

Marcus pondered for a minute or two, taking a couple more smells, “... Well, the colour and back aroma tells me you definitely spliced in some Butterfly Pea Flower, but there’s this root-y smell I can’t place without tasting it… but if I had to guess… Valerian root?”

The god looked utterly delighted, “Ding, ding, ding! All correct!” She carefully turned off the brewing stand and began to pour some out into teacups, handing them to both Marcus and Eden.

“I’ve tried a number of hybrids lately but this one’s my favourite. It looks so nice and it goes really nicely with a sweetened still lemonade.”

Marcus and Eden took a sip as Lono spoke. The flavours caressed their mouths and throats bringing with it a calm, full body warmth in its wake. It was probably the closest either of them assumed they would get to tasting the elixir of the gods.

“It’s delicious…” Marcus uttered in awe at it. Eden agreed, “It’s so refreshing, do you ever plan on selling your teas, Lono?”

Lono, satisfied with the reaction, gave a hum in thought, “Not commercially no. I think I’ll put it up online anonymously.” She picked up her own cup, “I really don’t want some company monopolising and overpricing my plants when I can have my family and friends run a quiet little Etsy shop where people can get it for pennies.”

“That’s very kind of you.” with another few sips Eden finished his cup, “It’s a good thing that you have such trust in your family not to sell the seeds behind your back. Many in your position would be wary of such a thing.”

Lono didn’t seem phased, she simply looked… disappointed? Or perhaps she pitied Eden, assuming he spoke from a place of experience. “You’ve a rather pessimistic outlook, Eden.”

“I prefer to think of myself as a realist.”

“I understand. But I assure you, my family aren’t the type to ever do something like that. We’re very close, every time I have a chance I sneak out to visit them and catch up on all the family gossip.”

Marcus raised an eyebrow, “Huh. I think that makes you pretty rare around here.”

Lono looked confused, “How so?”

“Just seems everyone else we spoke to doesn’t really keep in touch with their family anymore for whatever reasons. Whether it’s shitty parents or just… not wanting their family to be so sad when they go for good.”

She nodded, placing down her teacup, “Everyone has their reasons, and I respect them. It’s natural to want to put distance between things that are as heavy and uncomfortable as the death of a loved one. As for myself however I would rather spend the time that I can still being with them. It’ll be sad when I’m gone, I know. My mother took the longest to come to terms with it, but she’s a strong one; I don’t need to worry that she can’t cope without me. She’ll miss me, I know that, but she’ll keep the family together.”

The beat of silence while Lono sipped their tea felt heavy but in a way that was inherently comforting; a weighted blanket placed upon what should have felt like a sad conversation.

“Now, before I get too carried away, we should get to some questions.” Lono brought them back on track, which Eden was grateful for - though he didn’t regret letting Marcus and Lono have a moment to discuss horticulture.

“Thank you. One question we often found cropping up on your fansites and all over twitter was actually as to your freedoms; how much as you actually allowed to do or say without direct permission and or guidance from Ananke.“

A tenseness settled into Lono’s shoulders but upon seeing how the change in mood immediately affected the poor beanie-clad cameraman, she forced herself to relax and smile once more.

“Well, she’s kind of like our manager so that covers the usual things; representation, schedules, making deals, that kind of thing. None of us have to worry about bargaining for a TV slot or being the face of a brand with her around.” 

She bit the inside of her cheek, “But she also lays out the ground rules for us. Things like “refrain from performing miracles publicly if you can help it” or “try not to cause trouble that could make the Pantheon look bad or dangerous”...” She winced and Eden had the feeling Lono may have been referring to a specific incident. He said nothing though. He refused to poke that sleeping bear again.

“That sounds a tad suffocating. What stops you from seeking other representation?”

“Simple; she knows things that we don’t. She can answer questions for us that no one else can. Playing by the rules makes her more open to your inquiries; that’s the only reason Thoth and I are so filled in as we are. Dagda and Venus play the part too but they don’t often go digging for any information, Janus is content to just enjoy her two years without much explanation of the wider picture, and the others spend their time trying to get around her rules.”

Lono gesticulates gracefully, her Steven Universe charm bracelet clinking like wind chimes, “On the one hand, you have Re- Nyx and Loki,” she quickly corrected, “who just want to push entirely back against Ananke’s rules because they don’t like being told what to do. They want their total freedom and they’re so willing to just take it.”

She softly fixed a coil of her hair away from her eyes, “And then you have Arachne, who rebels in subtle ways; they’re happy to avoid the potential scoldings, but they have their ways of feeling less controlled. A secret Tumblr blog here, a side Spotify account posing as just another regular person, sneaking out to go buy comfort snacks and pretending they’re normal again for just a little while…”

Lono gave a tiny smile, “That’s the kind of rebellion I like best. Being restricted feels suffocating, but doing little things to feel in control helps me cope.”

Eden nodded slowly, “That’s understandable.” He took out a small business card Lono had given him and Marcus earlier, “Is that why you gave us this,” he spoke the name like he was talking to an old friend, “Emile?”

Lono – Emile – immediately brightened ever so slightly, nodding, “Yep. Gosh, it’s been a while since someone’s called me that.”

Marcus frowned, “Your family don’t call you Emile?”

“No, no, they do, I just… haven’t been able to see them so much lately. I used to be able to sneak away three or four times in a week, but now I can hardly sneak away once a week if I’m lucky. All of a sudden a lot of brands and TV shows want me to come talk to them or be part of their campaigns. On top of my performances, it’s getting harder to find the time; I did try and talk to Ananke about it but she just reassures me that it’s a good thing.”

Lono didn’t seem convinced. Eden and Marcus shared a glance and seemed to decide to press the topic very gently, “While we’re on the topic, do you mind telling us how you view Ananke? How would you describe her?”

Lono circled her finger around the rim of her teacup in thought; well, they said she could be as candid as she wanted, right? “I suppose I’m… torn about it. My opinion of Ananke is…”

She inhales, “I think she’s a very sweet and comforting old girl when she needs to be… but sometimes… she can be-”

-

“- a real shady bitch. But goddamn she’s hot when she’s tearing you apart with her words. And with her huge di-!”

“Thank you, Loki,” Eden interrupted, face wrinkled in repulsion, “but when we asked you what you thought of Janus, we didn’t mean specifically in reference to her performances sexually.”

Loki cackled, suspended still from their rig. Lord knows why ze decided to hold zir interview mid-rehersal for their upcoming performance, but if it was the only free time ze had then Eden wouldn’t complain. Neither did Marcus but Eden suspected he was enjoying himself rather than being annoyed by Loki’s antics.

“Fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine!” Loki groaned, “She’s cool. And sexy.” Ze started fiddling with another strap on their vest rig, apparently trying to loosen it despite the fact that they were a good seven feet off the ground. Eden began to thank his stars he was medically trained at this rate.

“Nothing else? Just cool and sexy?”

“Well, she does this thing with her tongue that-”

“Moving on.” Eden interrupted, ignoring Marcus’ snickers from behind the camera, “Since you’re eager to give us answers – whether we want them or not – do you mind fielding some incidents about the Ragnarok Incident?”

Ze looked ready to answer when ze unclipped something and zir rig flipped zem upside down. Cackling, Loki gleefully responded, “Sure specs, lemme just un-Prince myself.”

“Un-what yourself?!” Marcus half laughed. “Un-prince myself! What, you’ve never seen the Fresh Prince?!”

Marcus was having a grand old time it seemed, and as much as Eden loathed to do it, he had to get things back on track, “Marcus, mi amor, please focus.”

Rolling his eyes, he complied, “Okay, okay, sorry.”

“Thank you-”

“Word of warning,” Loki began, zir face a little flushed from the blood running to it while they tried to flip themselves back around, “You’ll wanna hold off on the gross romantic shit around Venus when you get to him. The freak gets off on love; you two walk into his interview doing that cutesy ‘mi amor’ shit and he’ll be finished before you get a word in.”

Loki wiggled zir eyebrows with a grin, “If you get me~.”

Eden cringed, “Unfortunately yes. We’ll bear that in mind. Now, back to the question at hand-”

“One sec, specs.” Ze wriggled for a moment. Whatever ze tried to accomplish must’ve failed because ze pouted, shouting over to a member of the staging crew, “Hey, someone pass me some scissors and the toolbox they keep in the back!”

A young lady in a T-shirt plastered with Loki’s face and decals nodded, calling into a walkie talkie, “We need scissors, bring ‘em to the main staging area…” She walked back to where she’d come from and – once they were the only three present – Loki immediately righted themselves back upright with one perfectly calculated forward roll.

“So, you wanna pick my brain about what all happened at Ragnarok? ‘Thought it was pretty obvious from the footage; everything was going pretty good, I got to go get wasted solo while everyone else put on a show, then the next thing my hungover ass hears Nyx made some pig’s head pop like a gore-filled firework.”

Ze explained in a nonchalant manner, as if ze weren’t talking about a horrific live incident.

“Don’t see how anything else I could add would make a difference.”

“We were more so hoping to get an answer as to why you didn’t show up in the first place. Why organise a whole event with no intention of performing?” 

Loki grinned knowingly, unsettlingly, “Don’t you dorks know your mythology?”

Eden looked over at Marcus who gave a puzzled look back then realised.

“Ah. Right. Look, just because most if not all the Norse sagas, myths and legends were written in Iceland doesn’t mean we intrinsically know every single one, E.”

Eden raised an eyebrow and Marcus sighed, “... Yes, fine. I read about Ragnarök. Ragnarøkkr, if you wanna be Lokasenna about it.”

Marcus looked back at Loki who looked all too excited to have him explain it, “It’s basically a long poetic edda, and a bunch of shorter poems here and there, all about the apocalypse, and a bunch of pretty big names of the Norse pantheon end up biting the dust.”

The realisation hit him and he sighed, “One of those people… is Loki.”

Loki gleefully applauded, “Finally! Someone knows their shit!”

“I see,” Eden nodded, “That explains why your fans were so surprised at the announcement. I did wonder why so many were asking why you didn’t save Ragnarok for the title of your final concert.”

Ze giggled, “It was real hard to keep the punchline secret, but it paid off.” 

Swinging gayly in zir rig, Loki added, “Pretty fucked up someone still died though, but hey, it wasn’t me so I can’t complain. Besides, who’s gonna be sad over a gross pig getting beheaded? Happens all the time in the meat industry but one loses their head at a concert and it’s a whole mess ending in a near arrest and a twitter trending moment.”

“Quickly moving on from that… minefield of a take, your fans have been wondering if you had any ideas for what you’ll actually call your final concert?” Eden asked.

Loki excitably answered, “No fucking clue, but I wanna theme it around my death as foretold in  Ragnarok. Gonna have a whole choreographed battle on stage and everything! I’ll have to hire some fans or something to be the frost giants…”

Ze posed like ze was leaning on a wall as ze addressed Eden, “How about you lemme borrow your dedicated simp to play Surtr for me? He seems fiery enough! Maybe you can be my Heimdall, seeing as you’ve got the arms for it!”

Marcus blushed embarrassedly and Eden cleared his throat, “I’ll have to pass, thank you. Heimdall isn’t a figure I’m all that familiar with.”

“Boooooo.” Loki huffed, turning to Marcus, “What about you? Wanna be the big ol fiery boy?”

“It sounds fun, but I might have to pass.” Marcus looked over at Eden, giving a sweet, shy smile, “If things go right, we’re hoping to adopt by then. Can’t be Surtr if I’m a dad, sorry.”

Ze made an expression Marcus couldn’t place for a moment, like ze was trying to put together a puzzle but they couldn’t find the right edge piece to get started. For a moment, Marcus wondered if it was because Loki could no longer fathom that kind of life; a life where you have a long future with a partner and potential children to plan for. Or even just living to see what the next decade will be like.

The look disappeared almost as soon as it appeared, however, and Loki huffed, “You’re both no fun!”

Loki was about to continue when ze spotted the stage hands ze sent to get scissors earlier come back and subsequently flipped zemself back around like ze were when the stagehand left. As if ze hadn’t just been able to right zemself, Loki flailed a hand to grab the scissors and with a few haphazard snips, ze made… a somewhat successful landing; ze all but belly-flopped onto the stage and dusted zemself off once ze got to zir feet.

“Olympics eat your heart out!” Loki giggled, hauling zemself atop zir nearest speaker set, “Now, did you wanna ask me anything else~?”

-

“No.”

Eden looked taken aback. “I’m sorry?”

“Why? You’re unapologetic in your endeavours, why would you be sorry?” Thoth retorted, just as detached and uninterested as he’d seemed for the entire interview.

“It’s a figure of speech-”

“I’m aware. My response was intentional wordplay while also doubling as an astute observation of your attitudes. I thought that was obvious.”

Marcus rubbed his face annoyedly, he’d need headache meds after this and they’re barely halfway through the Pantheon.

“Yeah, we got that. Maybe just assume we understand basic wordplay and tell us why you’re suddenly declining our interview?”

Thoth shot them a stony glare laden with sheer distaste.

“Because I know full well what your intentions are with this farce, and I decline to be a part of it.”

Eden and Marcus shot each other a side glance of worry without moving their heads. 

“I assure you we have no ulterior motives-”

Unsure of when Thoth had picked up and opened a thick, hardcover book, Marcus nearly leapt out of his skin when the god snapped it closed.

“Falsehood. Everyone has an ulterior motive, whether consciously or not.” Thoth put the book back with an ease the couple could only remember librarians possessing from their years of dates in their local library. “Yours I find to be rather unsavoury in particular.”

Being the tallest in the room, it wasn’t hard for the God of Wisdom to look intimidating. Each step he took along the shore of his vast bookshelves felt like the steps of a giant while Eden and Marcus were measly humans trailing in those same footsteps.

Eden would argue til he was blue in the face that he wasn’t an egotistical man, but he also didn’t appreciate it being bruised like this, “Enlighten us – as is your want to do so; what exactly do you think our ulterior motive is?”

“Monetary, of course.”

“Well, I guess ad revenue from our blog counts-” Marcus began, but Thoth interrupted him harshly.

“From the tabloids who offered you no doubt a pretty penny per interview. Make this seem like you just want some one-on-one time with each God for your petty little blog, but the truth is you’re here to provoke a response. You’re here to stir up trouble, then sell the footage, and profit from our misery. You’re vultures aiming to make a living using our limited time to your advantage; why would we waste time going after every tabloid and scathing hit piece when we’ll be gone in two years?”

Eye contact like daggers, Thoth faced the duo, “But I won’t be giving you the satisfaction.”

An uncomfortable silence stretched for long enough that Thoth could tell he was on the right path, however, judging by the way he sighed in such a pitying manner, Marcus assumed the god could tell they felt genuinely terrible about what they were doing.

Sighing in irritation, Thoth spoke up.

“... Give me your reason.”

Eden gave a surprised uttering of, “Excuse me?”

“You’re excused.” Thoth gestured to a pair of chairs one side of a modest coffee table. Unlike what they’d expected, Thoth’s room was – lavish drapes and seemingly endless bookshelf space aside – rather plain despite its grand space.

“Now, tell me; what is your reason? Why are you going through with this? If I were to guess, I’d wager student loans or some other form of debt, but I’d like to hear it from yourselves.”

Eden and Marcus shared another mutual glance before Marcus covered that aspect, “Well, partly. Eden’s a med student-”

“Admirable.” Thoth nodded.

“Yeah, E’s always been-”

“E?” The god looked perplexed. Marcus’ cheeks flushed softly, “Yeah, uh, it’s a nickname. E, Eden, y’know.”

“I… see. I would argue it’s more of an initial than what could be considered a proper nickname, but do go on.”

Marcus did so, a little intimidated still.

“Anyway, Eden’s got medical school to pay for, and I’m hoping to open up my own florist’s shop. But money’s been tight, and we’ve sorta been planning on getting married for a long, long time now. We could wait but uh…”

He blushed bright red, “It’s sappy but it’s like every day I’m not his husband is physically painful.”

Eden slipped his hand into Marcus’, the gesture so sappy and soft, Thoth looked like he wanted to be anywhere else.

“Right. And despite realising that you could simply wait a little longer to go through with a wedding – frankly, I don’t see the appeal myself, it’s all an overpriced spectacle that offers nothing besides tax benefits – you still want to put yourselves through all of this? Coming face to face with gods themselves, putting yourself in that kind of danger… it’s a risky move to make money.”

“I’d hardly call it dangerous, but wedding and future plans aside, Marcus and I do need the money to pay off some current bills.” Eden continued in Marcus’ stead.

Thoth stared at them incredulously, which was a feat considering he managed to do so while still maintaining the aloof aura he’s had since they’d walked in the door. Without much warning, the god’s head tipped back slightly and he let out a single “ha”. He faced the fiancés once more with no hint of humour, but a sparkle of amusement.

“You really have no idea of the lion’s den you just figuratively waltzed into. If you’re familiar with the phrase ‘cat among the pigeons’, you are both helpless pigeons strutting amongst ravenous lions.” 

“I would have to disagree. Personally, I doubt we’re in any more danger than one would face simply crossing the road in the morning.” Eden responded.

With a low, condescending chuckle, Thoth adjusted his glasses, “Oh, you have no idea what you’re getting yourselves into.”

He gestured across the table, as sophisticated as before, but with an air of almost knowing.

“You’re both going to get – and pardon the phrase – eaten alive in here.”

—

“Come now, I won’t bite.” Janus called from her boudoir to the fiancés. “You can come closer.”

So much more cautious than they had been before, Eden and Marcus took their places; Eden sitting and making sure his notes were ready to go while Marcus set up the camera. 

“... My, my, you two are awfully quiet. I had expected a little more chatter.”

“Apologies, I assure you we’ve had a somewhat long day.” Eden lightly massaged his left temple.

Janus gave a hum, “I’m well aware. You’ve both been through quite the emotional ringer if my precognition is to be believed.”

Marcus exhaustedly asked, “Sorry, your what?”

Janus humoured him, “My future sight. Well, past sight I suppose now, considering it’s already happened.”

A groan escaped Marcus in annoyance and Eden swooped in to handle things, “To be clear, you do indeed see the future?”

“And the past, yes. In perfect clarity, though the future is a fickle thing. Sometimes I see multiple future outcomes.” She clarified.

“Ah,” Eden turned to Marcus, “Think Garnet from Steven Universe–”

“Yeah, I get it now, babe. I promise.” He hadn’t meant it to sound so biting but in his defence, it’d been a rough day. Marcus did catch himself though and apologised quietly, “Sorry, E..”

“It’s alright, mi alma.”

“It’s alright, mi alma.”

Eden startled at Janus perfectly syncing their responses. She chuckled, gesturing to her golden eye caressed by a scale-like marking that cradled her left eye, “I told you, future sight.”

The god sat reclined and comfortable on her lavish sofa, amused by the duo if the expression on her face was anything to go by.

“I do hope you have other questions to ask me, hm?”

Eden nodded, “Yes, topically in regard to your future sight. Is it true that-”

“Yes, my right eye sees the past, my left the future.”

She perched forward slightly; the gesture itself wasn’t inherently intimidating but the way she did so felt powerful without being much more than a slight bend in her body.

“I’ve seen some… interesting things as of late. Regarding this interview and further beyond.”

“That’s interesting; so you know every question I’m about to ask you?”

“Possibly.” Janus checked her nails despite distinctly wearing gloves, “As I said, sometimes future events conflict; sometimes people change their minds, things pop up, there’s any number of reasons a future can be ushered in over another.”

Marcus, apparently not fully learning his lesson from today, dryly joked, “Wanna give us a reading? Tell us what’s in our future?”

Janus’ eyes were on him in an instant. Her mismatched stare emitted a soft glow akin to a tealight, or perhaps a firefly. She vocalised a hum; not threatening, but unsettlingly. 

“You don’t want me to.”, she began, ignoring Marcus’ slight recoil as she continued, “Besides, telling you a future usually makes it come true or prevents it from happening. I prefer to let things play out as they will.”

Eden cast a scrutinising gaze at Janus, “That’s not what we’ve been hearing.”

“Oh?” She leaned forward, fluid and graceful, “Do enlighten me.”

Her eyes seemed to sparkle at the notion even; like being caught out in a lie was exciting to her. Marcus figured it was to be expected. Not that he was all too versed in the Roman pantheon just yet, but he knew only two things about the mythical Janus; he had no Greek equivalent – a real oddity between the two pantheons – and he possessed two faces. When you’re the origin of the phrase ‘two faced liar’ it makes sense you’d be adept at falsities. 

Like he was reading a charge sheet, Eden listed, “Well, according to Arachne, you interfered with one of their concerts resulting in the rescheduling of their debut; Dagda informed us that you tampered with his calender and caused him to miss a wedding he’d been invited to attend; Lono caught you multiple times tampering with her greenhouse; and Thoth has assured us you were the reason he stopped – as he put it – engaging in casual dalliances with Loki.”

Janus was visibly amused while Eden continued, “That hardly sounds like you’re ‘letting things play out’ to me.”

She clicked her tongue in thought, “I suppose it doesn’t, does it?”

Without elaborating further, she prompted, “So, your next question–”

“ – Will be asked once we have answers to the current question. Please.” Eden retorted.

“You really are perfect for each other.” Janus retorted right back, catching Eden off guard. “You’re both stubborn, far too headstrong…”

Her gaze drifted towards Marcus, “Or perhaps I should say, far too eager to lose your heads.”

Marcus’ stomach clenched in recollection, “... Didn’t need the reminder, thanks.”

Janus waved a hand, “Oh I think you both do, actually.”

A snap sounded, Marcus recoiled, and the camera’s recording malfunctioned. Eden felt something loop around his ankle, something moving. He looked down to spot a shimmering golden tendril slither around his ankles and disappear under the sofa. The room’s lights dimmed to the point that Janus’ eyes were close to the only light source. Flickering foreboding candles in the darkness.

“You were both warned – by a god of wisdom no less – that if you continued on your path you’d regret it. And yet you still sit here now.”

Her lips moved, but her voice echoed from every inch of the room; dulcet whispers that were both several feet away as well as inches from their ears.

“If none else could do so, I’d be more than happy to put the true fear of a God in you. Nyx may have spared one of you a violent death but I can assure you should you attempt to provoke me in that same way, I won’t hesitate.”

The duo both sought each other in the dim light, never once taking their eyes off Janus.

“Who are you both to come here in your hubris demanding answers? Provoking Gods?”

She stood, and the lights went dark. Her voice still loomed, her glowing eyes multiplying as her voice had. Golden glares peeking from the shadows. The reverberations of her voice made it impossible to know where she was at any time.

“What business is it of yours that I may have tampered with one measly little concert to save Arachne from an awful case of stagefright that would’ve turned them into a shut-in for the rest of their two years?”

Marcus felt breath on his neck.

“So what if Dagda missed the wedding of a friend who used and abused that friendship? Where he’d have spent those hours sitting there, regretting the entire ordeal and wallowing in absolute misery, just because he believes in his silly little heart that missing it is morally wrong?”

Eden felt fabric brush the back of his palm.

“Who cares that sometimes Lono’s little plant splicing experiments produce deadly results that could maybe not kill her, but any poor souls who purchase them from her ridiculous little marketplace?”

All at once the thousands of ominous eyes slammed shut. The pitch darkness strangled a gasp from Marcus, but thankfully it ebbed quickly. Janus was sitting once more on the sofa opposite their own. Unphased, as if she hadn’t just pulled some Eldritch nightmare fuel levels of fuckery, Janus chuckled.

“As for Loki’s ‘dalliances’ with Thoth, let’s just say I was a little jealous~.” She rotated her wrist dismissively, “Besides, I just sped up a process that would’ve happened anyway. And far less messily than it could have been.”

Shakily, Marcus released Eden’s arm lest his fiancé lose all feeling in it. He didn’t want to let go of Eden, but he wanted to retreat back to his position behind the camera. Upon checking it, it seemed to be functional again.

The rest of the interview was brief; with only Venus left to interview next, Eden and Marcus were both eager to get things over with at that point. 

“Thank you for your time, Janus.” Eden offered politely in spite of every cell in his body screaming for him to just forsake common courtesy and run.

“No, no, thank you both for an amusing distraction.” Janus purred. “It’s been a while since I could relax like this.”

Marcus packed the camera equipment, checking the handheld camera to be sure it wasn’t broken for good. He gave a quiet huff, “Odd way to relax, but go off.”

Eyes luminous as they’d been before, Janus slowly blinked at him. She stood up and a tremor of fear ran through Marcus. Janus closed the gap near immediately with her long, elegant stride. Leaning in, she whispered something into Marcus’ ear while Eden watched in concerned confusion. Marcus’ expression shifted from panic to confusion until Janus pulled away.

“It’d do you best to remember that.” Eden caught her saying quietly before she sat down again, lounging lazily. She waved them off, “Now, do go enjoy your interview with Venus, I’m sure he’ll be just as delightful as he always is.”

The duo didn’t need to be told twice. Once outside the room, Eden turned to Marcus curiously, “What did she tell you? You needn’t say if it’s perhaps personal or for your ears only but…”

Marcus shrugged, “I don’t think it’s all that personal. She told me to “make sure our bonds are secure before we leave.”. I dunno what she means by that…”

Eden hummed, “Perhaps we should check our bag straps to be sure. In case she’s more literal than figurative.”

“Not sure, but we should prepare for Venus’s interview. Then we can go home, sell this shit, and forget this ever happened…” 

—

“And here you both are.” Venus’ expression was soft and sweet. “How lucky you both are, to have met one another and fallen so passionately in love.”

Marcus wasn’t sure when in their retelling of their relationship he and Eden had moved to sit by each other – him all but snuggled up to Eden’s side – but he wasn’t complaining. Of all the ups and downs of today, they had needed this.

“I count myself lucky every day I wake up next to my husband-to-be.” Eden spoke softly. He may have been answering Venus, but his eyes were locked on Marcus’. In his head, Marcus knew that they probably wouldn’t have been this openly sappy without Venus’ influence but he couldn’t bring himself to feel embarrassed enough to say anything about it. After everything, it was so welcome to feel at ease even in the presence of a God.

Maybe this was what Janus had meant? Making sure their bond was secure. Today had put them both through Hell, but they made it through, and now… now they could finally breathe.

Venus cleared his throat fondly, “As much as I’d love for you both to continue, I believe our time is up.” 

He smiled, “I only have so much time these days, you both ought to go home and enjoy yours.”

The fiancés couldn’t agree more. Marcus untangled himself from Eden to pack up the camera equipment, while Eden put his notes away, “Thank you again for this, Venus.”

Venus gave a happy little huff of a noise, “No need to thank me, you both provided quite the entertainment. It’s delightful to hear tales of true love.” The love God’s expression softened to one of melancholy, “Takes away the pain of never getting to truly experience it myself.”

Eden wasn’t sure what to say to that, neither was Marcus, so instead, they took their leave, putting their engagement rings back on. Walking the halls of the Pantheon felt so different now; at first it was like stepping into Cinderella’s castle; awe and wonder, and such an imposing feeling of distance. Of never being on the same level as these titans in human form. Now though, the halls felt as hollow as the price of Godhood. Truly, is it worth trading a long life for two years of fame that often turned out to be a double-edged sword?

Marcus didn’t think so. And he was pretty sure Eden agreed. 

“Once we get home, we should rest before we pass on the footage.” Eden reasoned, “After today, I think we’ve earned some time to ourselves.”

“For sure. I don’t wanna think about it ever again after this.” Marcus sighed, anxiously fixing his hair and replacing his orange beanie, “Never let me come up with ideas again, E. This was a nightmare.”

Eden chuckled, “Pity, I think it was a rather clever idea.”

Marcus gave Eden the softest smile, “Hey, I’m not the one who managed to talk Ananke into letting us do this.” As they walked through the doorway, Marcus laced his fingers with Eden’s, “That was all you, mi vida–”

He stopped, “Oh, Eden, your ring’s gone.”

Eden frowned in worry and looked at his hand, noticing the ring’s absence, “Damn, I definitely put it on…”

“Go back in and check, I’ll look for it out here, okay?” Marcus assured him.

“Alright,” Eden leant in to steal a quick kiss, joking playfully. “Don’t go anywhere, I’ll be right back.”

“Yeah, yeah, just go you big sap.” Marcus chuckled, shoo-ing Eden back inside. Watching his fiancé go back into the building did trigger a little pang of anxiety, but Eden would be fine. If there was ever anyone who knew how to stay safe, it was his fiancé.

“Ah, you’re still here.”

Marcus turned and just behind him on the paved road to the gates of the Pantheon building was an old woman, clad in black with an equally charcoal veil that covered her face ever so slightly. Her face gave nothing away, stony and skilled into apathy, yet her eyes were foreboding. Daggers into one’s soul.

Ananke.

“Yeah, we’re just leaving so don’t worry, we’ll be on our way soon.” Marcus assured her.

“Actually,” Ananke began. “I was hoping to talk with you.”

“Oh, uh, okay. I think Eden’ll be back in a moment–”

“No. With you, specifically.” 

The atmosphere seemed heavier, and despite being outside, Marcus found it hard to breathe. All at once, he felt the ground beneath his feet shift like he’d been knocked off balance.

“It’s been far too long since you’ve made an appearance…”

Ananke’s voice felt so distant, his weight shifted.

“... Surtr.”

And then he was falling.

-

Eden was relieved to find his ring untouched or damaged; thankfully Arachne wasn’t the type to swipe anything they found laying on the floor. He hadn’t meant to keep Marcus waiting but a quick exchange of thanks with Arachne was in order. His mother raised him right.

With a happy relief, Eden made sure his ring was secure, smiling at it adoringly. He couldn’t wait for the day he and Marcus could finally get married; they’d spent so long as a part of each other’s lives, perhaps it was inevitable they’d fall in love but regardless he never wanted anyone but Marcus.

Childhood best friends to lovers. Who didn’t want that?

Roused from his thoughts, Eden spotted a figure in black outside as he approached the front door. And next to her…

“... Marcus?”

Ananke didn’t react while Marcus turned to face Eden; he looked so different, only his orange beanie could identify him as Marcus.

His reddy leather jacket had been replaced by a black one sporting split sleeves decorated with neon orange flames that matched his now orange gloves. Pumpkin hued ripped tights laid under a long wrap-skirt that faded from coal to magma red to glowing oranges and yellows. Straps of leather, zips, and chunky black boots, all of it screamed fiery inferno punk. The blonde hair that peeked out of his beanie was a burnt black colour with his peach streak standing out as a fiery rust.  Even Marcus’ casual eyeshadow had changed, ringing his eyes in smokey embers. His green irises now resembled swirling magma as he looked at Eden with an expression of utter horror.

“Eden…”