Hello dear, Could you write about Souji with a demigod reader? I am a daughter of Dionysus but it's okay if you prefer to write about any other god. I really love your writingđ
Remember to drink water and thank you very much.
(I don't speak English and I'm using a translator so I hope you can understand what I mean)
đPairing: Demigoddess!reader x Okita Soji
đWarnings: mention of alcohol, death
No one can escape the fate of their parents. Their essences fall on their children and trace a path; and even if they detach themselves from them, even if the fate they encounter is completely different, the family blood dictates its own law. Especially when they want to abandon it.
More than once you have wondered about your inheritance. Being the daughter of Dionysus, a demigoddess and therefore the fruit of a love as dense and turbid as must, as only the passion of a god for a mortal can be, has brought you no fortune, but not even bad luck: perhaps a mix of the two, ups and downs that make you no different from any other being subjected to the laws of Fate. The most annoying thing was the comments and giggles, especially during childhood; this is an inheritance that the hand of Dionysus, the god of rebirth and euphoria, the god who is not afraid to wear womenâs clothes nor to be at the side of those who suffer, has given you.
Then, it all slipped away like wine in a krater, down the throat of millennia; and from a child you became an adolescent, ever closer to your father and at the same time more distant. Silently, you thanked him many times for the gift of wine, especially after drinking it so much so that you saw three times as many stars in the sky; and you remained in the shadows, watching his anger when the Supreme Zeus decreed that the gods would no longer tread human soil and leave men to their existence without intervening, for better or worse. Not that this stopped Dionysus from still dealing with mortals: the Divinity followed by panthers, the husband of Ariadne, is a tendril that grows as and where it wants, is a grape that takes on a different color from the others, is a sip opposed to everything... and that, more than anything, made you hesitate.Â
Why has this god always loved men so much that he even defied the decree of the Lord among the Lords? Why become, through the centuries, the god liberator of souls, the one who accompanies the dead on their final journey1? What did he ever see in them, so much so that they filled the world with statues, effigies, hymns, and hopeâŠ
⊠And they, what did they see in him?
«⊠I think Iâm really lost.» You wake up from your torpor not because of the words, but of the color that suddenly appears before you and breaks the dull orange light of the afternoon: a blue so intense that enters your eyes and makes them open wide, and you find yourself staggering onto the bench where you have been dozing off, and then sitting down inelegantly. «What?»
You stare at each other for a moment, you and the young male in the blue robe in front of you, confused and speechless; then you frown slightly, breaking the perfect silence. «You⊠you werenât talking to me?»
«No. I hadnât even noticed you, to be honest.»
You stare at each other again, still as marble birds, and finally it is you who resumes the conversation. «Well, never mind, itâs not the first time Iâve disappeared from othersâ sight. What was that you were saying? Are you lost?»
He looks around with a somber expression, then nods. From under the bangs that cover his eyes, you notice a look full of intelligence, and also melancholy. «Yes, it seems. I donât know where I am, or why I ended up here. Itâs a different place from the one where⊠where I was before.»
«Are you sure you havenât drunk too much? The wine around here is too good, you drink one cup and you canât stop», you reply calmly, adding a smile. «Youâre not the first to lose your memory after a few drops, not to mention your dignity. But maybe, if youâre lucky, youâve saved that.»
«Wine? Never heard of it before.»
The answer is so calm that at first you think you misheard. Then, pure horror sinks into your bones. «WhaaatâŠ?? You never heard of it? But, but⊠it is impossible! It is pure heresy!»Â
He laughs softly, not really touched by your screams. «Is it really that terrible?»
You grab his shoulders and shake him. «Terrible? Even worse! Now you come with me andâ» Your hands stop, as every part of your body; the next second, you make them drop and step back. The cold; it is the cold. The key⊠the answer.
It is the first time you have heard it, because it doesnât belong to you and you have never had anything to do with it before; but somehow, you recognize it right away. «⊠Youâre a human», you murmur. And that is right; how could you mistake it for a deity? «⊠A human who just left everything he knew behind.»
The other doesnât answer, just looking at you from under his bangs. He is calm for being a new dead soul, but his sadness is so palpable that it tightens your heart; so, the next words come out without you thinking them. «Donât be afraid⊠you wonât have to suffer anymore», you murmur, «youâve left the pain behind you. It wonât come back.»
«But I canât find the others», the human replies, swaying in his blue robe, «⊠I donât see anyone.»
If before you said words you never thought you had said, now your body also acts unexpectedly: it leaps forward and hugs that soul, wrapping an arm around its shoulders.
The boy sinks into your embrace, his head nestled in the crook of your neck, and says nothing; he doesnât move, either to hug you back or to pull away. And for a long time, you canât let him go.
«From here you can see all the stars you want. I turn the sky at your will, and if you're looking for a constellation, you can find it here without even asking. Itâs beautiful, isnât it?»
You have turned off every fire and lamp, leaving only the galaxies above you to illuminate reality. Night has fallen quickly, a blanket of intense and velvety black, just the way you like it: a darkness that smooths out the shape of things and the limits of thoughts, letting them emerge from the cracks and flow as they see fit. Tonight, every one of them is tense towards your unexpected companion. In this darkness there is no sleep; he is alert, intent on looking at the sky. You can see his ponytail and scarf swaying and following the rhythm of his body, and you find yourself smiling. Then, he speaks. «⊠You donât like us humans very much, do you?»
«⊠Itâs very noticeable that Iâm not good at dealing with you, isnât it?» You chuckle, then lie down on the grassy expanse you have chosen as your resting place for the night and sigh. «My father. My father is good with you humans⊠people have always loved him, and he has always been there for them, and with them. At first they sought him out mainly for the gifts he brought: wine, drunkenness, chaos. Then⊠then, when he began appearing before the souls of the dead, taking them by the hand and drying their tears, and then guiding them to these places⊠they loved him even more. As only you humans can love.» You sigh. «My father⊠he could really help you find who you seek. I can only wait for dawn and try to give you some directions on where to go. But know that I am a demigod, and nothing more. An useless demigod.»
«âŠWhy? Why useless? Even if you donât love humans like your father did, you didnât cast me out. You welcomed me, you hugged me when you found out I was dead. And youâre keeping me company.»
«⊠Yeah. And Iâm keeping you company», you repeat in a low voice, thoughtful. «⊠Obviously, thatâs what I want. But it was probably just a passing whim.»
The boy doesnât answer, and you donât say anything else.
Slower than night, the dawn opens its pink eyes.
«Well⊠if Iâm not mistaken, if you continue to go east youâll find some men; theyâre probably not the ones youâre looking for, but theyâll be able to help you more than I can. Come, Iâll show you the way.»
Your intention was to give him directions and let him go without intervening any more; instead, as you continue to tell and explain what is on the way, your steps carry you forward and forward, in rhythm with those of the boy who, calm and silent, listens to your every word and follows you without asking anything. Not that you have much to do, in the end; so it doesnât even bother you to keep him company a little longer â slightly strange, if it comes from you; but no less true.
And one hour becomes two, and two, four: as if guided by a hand bigger than you, you advance and lead the soul with you, with a confidence and tranquility you never suspected you had. You make sure that he is following you, calm, and you often ask him if he is in pain; to all this he sometimes responds with words, and sometimes with a smile. In all cases, you understand that he is studying you, looking inside you without any effort.
«⊠Are you sure you are completely human?», you exclaim at a certain point, looking at the boy sideways, «there is something in you that makes me sayâ»
You canât finish, because suddenly the soulâs eyes widen and he stops dead in his tracks, staring straight ahead, before sprinting forward. You follow him with your gaze, the words stuck in your throat in surprise, and you canât help but smile at the reason for his sudden change in behavior. «⊠Even a cat lover.»
And with that, you immediately give up on telling him to leave behind the crowd of cats that have begun to surround him alone; you simply grab him by the arm and drag him forward, without stopping him from bringing along all the felines he wants â just as you donât stop complaining about the amount of hair flying on your clothes. And meanwhile, that strange instinct that has just arisen leads you forward, forward again as if you already truly know the road, and not for a moment the thought of stopping and letting your soul continue on its own cross your mind.
Blood doesnât fail, you feel whispering inside you, like a wisdom from afar; but in that instant you push it away with the name of a mere sensation, and meanwhile you worry only that the soul follows you.
As if it had called, finally, blue meets blue.
You both see it, you feel it; and as soon as you get closer, almost starting to run, you realize it fully. The color of his clothes, so identical to that of the people in front of you, there, on an increasingly tangible horizon⊠now, you understand that the journey is over, and that you have to let him go.Â
Without believing yourself capable, without thinking about it, without asking, you have done what you never understood⊠and you are even happy about it.Â
Even the soul is so radiant that you canât hold back a sigh while you look at him; and then, before you can stop it, he hugs you as tightly as you hugged him the first time. «Thank you! Thank you, not so useless demigoddess!», he exclaims straight into your eardrums, before running to reach his friends. Halfway there he turns to wave at you, and luckily, at that moment you have already managed to dry the tear that has run down your cheek. «A not so useless demigoddessâŠÂ», you mutter to yourself, «⊠yeah, maybe thatâs it. Uh! WaitâŠÂ» For a moment your voice stops, struck by a revelation â Okita⊠thatâs his name. I donât know how I know, but thatâs it â; so, you shout louder. «Okita!»
The young man turns to you once more, and you breathe hard. «You owe me a whole wineskin! And you have to drink it with me!»
Okita smiles, then nods. «âŠWhen you bring the others here, you can have all the wine you want. But you have to convince me to drink it.»
«That will certainly happen», you reply confidently, «take it as a threat, cat lover.»
The look you exchange is full of electric energy and a complicity that only you know, that lasts even when you leave. You have so much work to do now; there is an entire humanity waiting for you.
And it is only now that you realize that it is you, in truth, who was waiting for it.
I couldnât miss the opportunity to tell a particular side of Dionysus, linked to his relationship with the Afterlife. During my studies in Etruscology, I had the opportunity to discover and study how on many funeral steles of Etruria the god is represented as a guide for the souls of the dead towards their final journey, as a god accompanying them towards a new reality (therefore a deity of passage), often assuming the prerogatives of Hades or Hermes. From here, why not make his daughter capable of doing the same things, acting as a guide and consoler of souls after their passing? Considering that Okita died alone, I was too tempted by the possibility of someone who is at his side in a sad moment, and who guides him to his friends.
