ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ᴄᴏʟʟᴇᴄᴛs.

❝ the gods envy us. they envy us because we're mortal, because any moment may be our last. everything is more beautiful because we are doomed. ❞

an independent, private, mutuals-only and slightly selective multi-muse blog for different fandoms. from greek mythology, disney, and many more. this blog is oc friendly, loved and written by Carina (she/her thirty y). made january of 2026. credit.

❝ the gods envy us. they envy us because we're mortal, because any moment may be our last. everything is more beautiful because we are doomed. ❞

Thunderer had carried grief and prophecies through the ages, yet this felt vastly heavier, something that could not be fought and demanded to be endured instead.

' It would have been more cruel had you chosen to vanish without letting me stand witness to it...'

Tentative steps bring the Asgardian closer, until the space between them thinned to slivers, storm quiet beneath the skin yet still present, a living thing that recognized power when it approached. The faintest of flickers, a pattern and repetition, barely sensed as pinpricks when divine enclosed on the divine.

' It is a cycle I suppose, the way memory coils back on itself like a serpent devouring its own tail. And I loath that it has found you again.'

Gaze lifted to meet the other, stripped of any command or royal steadfastness, within ceruleans only earnest concern. Hand comes to rest upon Aidoneus’ shoulder, firm and grounding with the grasp that follows.

' I do not wish to lose you,' and the admittance is offered calmly despite the underlying ache in the deep bass.

' And I will not pretend that I am strong enough to bear it easily...'

The Aesir knew cycles, knew that everything could be broken by time and fate, and help could be provided, if one dared to ask for it....

thor's hand on his shoulder grounded him, kept him steady. the moment should not feel this easy for aidoneus, and yet somewhere deep in his heart he knew this had to happen. he knew it was not the first time. and would not be the last. what could he do but accept that he had no control over his own memory ? his rough hand came to rest over thor's. a fragile anchor. ❝ i wish we had more time. truly. i wish i could fight this. ❞

crimson eyes rose slowly to meet thor's. a deep breath left his chest, heavy, painful in a way he would never fully admit. but why show that pain and make thor carry more than he already did ? it was unfair enough to ask him to stay, to help him through the process of letting go of everything he was. to now let him witness the fear underneath it all ... no. aidoneus refused to put that weight on his shoulders. ❝ maybe we'll find each other again. ❞

his voice was calm, the calm of someone who had already accepted his fate, even if acceptance felt like swallowing glass. ❝ don't think this doesn't hurt me. don't think i want my memories erased just to start over like this ... ❞ he paused, jaw tightening as he forced himself to stay grounded, to stay standing. ❝ but it will happen whether we want it or not. so peomse me ... promise me you'll come find me again. and maybe next time ... we won't look for answers. ❞ his fingers tightened slightly over thor's hand, as if he was afraid the god would disappear before the words were finished.

❝ the gods envy us. they envy us because we're mortal, because any moment may be our last. everything is more beautiful because we are doomed. ❞

"Of course, I know that." her voice softened into laughter. "But if words fail, my next suggestion is violence," she continued to laugh, offering a small shrug of her shoulders.

She knew well that you can't carve the pain and rot and darkness from your flesh. Learned that one from experience. But with the living - opposed to her precious dead - sentiment and emotional growth didn't come so easily. Hel tried to mimic the suggestions offered by her kin, the gentle guidance they nudged her to accept but she'd so long ignored it the words twisted and jumbled in her mind.

The best she had was naive hope and outdated practices of bloodletting.

Her eyes briefly dipped towards the floor then rose to the side before returning to him. Her heart beat wonkily once. A painful rhythmless bump.

and yet, even as he wished to remain like this, to enjoy the moment with hel, the sound of her laugh, the quiet warmth of her presence. his body slowly began to stiffen again. as if he did not know how to stay at ease. as if some ancient instinct refused to let him forget who he was. calm was never meant to last for him. ❝ i don't wish to be at the end of that violence. ❞ a soft laugh slipped from his lips, light, almost playful, though his crimson eyes watched her carefully. studying her. trying to understand how she could pull him into this strange, fragile peace.

“You can. I have no reason to betray you. Your protection…” Her gaze wandered. “And your punishments show me what is important.” As reluctant as she was to say it, the words came out with honesty. Difficult, but they were spoken. “And the souls belong here. Protected, punished, reborn.” There was a brief pause until Sylvanas looked back at Hades. Attentively.

❝ only a fool with no love for their own life. ❞ his voice was cold, edged, sharp enough to cut. if there was one thing hades would never tolerate, it was someone stealing souls from him. defying his power. defying the balance of all things. and believing they could walk away from it. this was not something that went unanswered. this demanded punishment. if not something far worse.

the god had to remind the world that his realm was not meant to be provoked. not meant to be challenged. and anyone who dared would soon learn that lesson. whether the consequence came from hades himself, or from those who acted in his name. sylvanas included, whether ot of obligation or devotion, it mattered little. what mattered was that the task was done. ❝ i'm glad we can see eye to eye, ❞ he continued calmly, his tone measured, controlled. ❝ and that i will not have to worry about betrayal. ❞

@unseencne asked : Hades traces lines along Logan’s back gentle and quiet. (For the touch thing 🥰)

If only he could fall asleep like this forever, every night for the remainder of what life he had left. Sometimes mortality hit him hard, and now seemed to be one of them. A few not so good days punctuated just how different he was than the average person, how much his body had endured and still flared up from time to time. But here, laying in bed with Aidon's arms wrapped around him, those fingers tracing lines of nothing in particular down his back, was the most soothing thing he'd felt in a long time.

Head rests against the other man's shoulder, forehead against his neck, as eyes flutter closed. Fighting the struggle to stay awake just a little longer, that falling asleep in his company is not something he wants to do. That's not spending quality time together. But he's losing the fight.

In a valiant effort, head shifts to allow lips to trail along his collarbone tenderly, soft things placed with very little energy behind them. "You're putting me to sleep." A murmur into his chest, meant to stay there with a tender warmth as he nuzzles close again.

crimson eyes were fixed on the bedroom wall while his long fingers traced slow, endless lines on logan's back. the silence, the softness of the moment, was something aidoneus had never trully known. the way it relaxed his body, the way he fitted so naturally into logan's arms, as if he had always belonged there. as if he had always belonged there. as if the place had been waiting for him long before he allowed himself to rest.

these were rare moments, the only ones where the god truly let himself go. where the weight of centuries slipped from him shoulders, even if just for a while. a soft smile curved his lips as he shifted slightly, making room to welcome logan closer against his chest. ❝ what is wrong with that ? ❞ he whispered, his voice low, unguarded. aidoneus saw no issue in this. to him, watching logan sleep was as precious as any shared word or touch.

it was almost amusing, the effort she had gone through. intricate, careful, desperate even. but he was no demon. he was nothing like anything she had ever hunted before. crimson eyes lowered to the line drawn on the floor, the line had been made with intention. for a brief moment, he considered playing along. letting her believe it had worked. letting hope settle, just so he could watch it crumble.

crimson eyes remained on the dead flowers. where an apology should have been, there was only ... nothing. he did not care for the flowers, nor for what the other seemed to mourn so fiercely. life and decay were concepts far too familiar to him to inspire sentiment. to poke the bear just a little further, the god stepped forward, deliberately crushing one of the flowers beneath his foot.

❝ the gods envy us. they envy us because we're mortal, because any moment may be our last. everything is more beautiful because we are doomed. ❞