Hi! Saw your asks were open and wanted to request
I loved the modern skeptic reader with the big 3, can I ask for that same prompt but with apollo, hermes, dionysus and aeolus please? Love your works btw!!
You’re joking
A/N : Too lazy to post. Sorry, chat. Thank you roseinbloom for requesting this! Original idea is from here.
WARNING : GN!Reader. Scenarios. Includes Hermes, Apollo, Dionysus, and Aeolus (individually).
Word Count : 3.6k
HERMES
The coffee shop hummed with the usual morning rush, a symphony of clinking mugs, the hiss of the espresso machine, and hushed conversations. Y/N was buried in their laptop, nursing a lukewarm latte, trying to meet a looming deadline. Their brow was furrowed in concentration, completely oblivious to the world around them, until a sudden, almost imperceptible whoosh of air preceded a figure sliding into the chair opposite them.
He had a mischievous glint in his eyes, a smile that could charm the socks off a statue, and an energy that seemed to vibrate through the air, making the very molecules around him buzz. He was dressed in a surprisingly stylish track suit, complete with sleek, almost futuristic-looking sneakers.
"Mind if I join you?" he asked, his voice a smooth, rapid-fire melody, not really waiting for an answer as he set down a ridiculously oversized messenger bag that looked far too light for its size. "Every other table is a fortress of solitude, and frankly, I'm feeling rather social. Plus, I saw you wrestling with that spreadsheet, and I'm a sucker for a good challenge."
Y/N blinked, startled out of their coding trance. They looked up, a little taken aback by his sheer audacity and the sudden invasion of their personal space. "Uh, sure, I guess," Y/N managed, trying to process the blur of his arrival.
"Excellent!" he declared, already pulling out a sleek, impossibly thin tablet and a stylus. "The name's Mercury. And you are?" He extended a hand, and his grip was surprisingly firm, almost electric.
"Just... Y/N," Y/N replied, a small smile tugging at their lips despite themselves. He was undeniably charming, if a bit much. His eyes seemed to dart everywhere at once, taking in every detail of the coffee shop, the street outside, and even the tiny, almost invisible tear in Y/N's sleeve.
Mercury, as he called himself, was a whirlwind of anecdotes and observations. He talked about his "delivery job" that took him all over the world in impossibly short times – "One minute I'm in Tokyo, the next I'm delivering a very important document to a remote village in the Andes! Time zones are a nightmare, but you get used to it." He then segued into his "side hustle" as a tech guru who could fix any device with a flick of his wrist – "Oh, your Wi-Fi's acting up? Probably just needs a little... nudge. I've got a trick for that. Trust me, I'm practically the patron saint of lost signals." And then his "hobby" of mediating disputes between... well, he just said "difficult individuals," with a knowing smirk. "You wouldn't believe the squabbles I have to sort out. It's like herding cats, but with more shouting and occasional lightning bolts."
Y/N found themselves laughing more than they had all week. His stories were outlandish, yet he told them with such conviction and a twinkle in his eye that Y/N couldn't help but be entertained. He had an answer for everything, and his logic, while convoluted, somehow made sense in his rapid-fire delivery.
"You know," he said, leaning back with a grin, a stray lock of golden-brown hair falling across his forehead, "sometimes I feel like I'm just a glorified messenger. But someone's got to keep things moving, right? The world would grind to a halt without me. Imagine the chaos! Packages stuck, messages undelivered, deals falling through... it's a nightmare scenario."
Y/N chuckled, taking a sip of their now-cold latte. "Sounds like a lot of pressure for one guy. You must be really important. Like, the CEO of Global Logistics and Tech Support."
He winked, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "More important than you know, Y/N. I'm practically indispensable. I'm the reason your packages arrive on time, your internet connects without a hitch, and sometimes, even why you find that last, perfect parking spot right when you need it. It's all about flow, you see. I ensure the flow."
Y/N rolled their eyes playfully, a genuine smile now firmly in place. "Right, and I'm the Queen of England. You're just a very efficient delivery driver with an overactive imagination and a caffeine addiction."
Mercury threw his head back and laughed, a genuine, booming sound that turned a few heads at nearby tables. He clapped his hands together, a sound like two small thunderclaps. "Oh, Y/N, if only you knew. I am the messenger. The divine messenger, to be precise. Hermes, at your service. And yes, sometimes I do have winged sandals, though they're more for special occasions these days. Too much attention, you know."
Y/N stared at him, their smile slowly fading, replaced by a look of utter disbelief. A beat of silence hung in the air, broken only by the gentle hum of the coffee shop. Then, Y/N burst out laughing, a loud, uncontrolled peal that made more heads turn. "Hermes? Seriously? What, did you just step out of a mythology textbook? And winged sandals? Next you'll tell me you hang out with Zeus and ride a chariot made of clouds!"
He wiggled his eyebrows playfully. "Wouldn't you like to know? Zeus is quite the character, let me tell you. Always stirring up trouble."
Y/N just shook their head, still chuckling, trying to catch their breath. "You're hilarious, Mercury. A real character. You should try stand-up comedy. But seriously, what's your actual job? Are you a performance artist? A method actor?"
He sighed dramatically, a playful pout on his lips, though his eyes still danced with mirth. "And here I thought I was being so subtle. The truth is often stranger than fiction, Y/N. Fine, you win. For now. But don't come crying to me when your next online order gets lost in the ether, or your phone decides to spontaneously combust."
Y/N just grinned, shaking their head. "Deal. Now, about that coffee... you buying? You did invite yourself to my table, after all."
He snapped his fingers, a small, almost imperceptible gust of wind rustling the papers on Y/N's laptop. "Consider it done. Anything for my darling. Perhaps one day, you'll see the light. Or rather, the speed."
APOLLO
The open mic night was in full swing at "The Muse's Den," a dimly lit, slightly sticky-floored venue known for its eclectic mix of performers. Y/N was regretting their decision to attend. The poetry was... earnest, the comedy was... trying, and the music was... well, let's just say it was an experience in experimental noise. Y/N was nursing a flat soda, mentally preparing their polite applause, when a man stepped onto the small stage, bathed in the dim, smoky spotlight.
He had a shock of golden hair that seemed to catch the light even in the gloom, eyes that sparkled with an almost unnatural, crystalline light, and a well-worn acoustic guitar that looked like it had seen better days, yet somehow felt ancient and revered in his hands. He wore a simple, white linen shirt that seemed to glow faintly.
He strummed a few chords, and the entire room seemed to quiet, as if the very air held its breath. His voice, when it came, was pure liquid gold, rich and resonant, filling the space with a melody that was both ancient and utterly modern, like sunlight breaking through clouds. He sang about sunsets and starlight, about the quiet power of art, about the beauty of the human spirit, and the fleeting nature of joy. His lyrics were profound, his delivery flawless, and his presence commanded attention without being overbearing. Y/N found themselves completely captivated, forgetting their lukewarm soda and the awkward silence that had plagued the previous acts. It was like listening to the sun itself sing.
After his set, which earned him a thunderous standing ovation and shouts for an encore, he gracefully bowed and then, to Y/N's surprise, found them at the bar. "Enjoy the show?" he asked, his voice just as captivating up close, a warm, golden timbre that sent a shiver down Y/N's spine.
"More than I expected, honestly," Y/N admitted, a blush creeping up their neck. "You're incredible. Seriously, where did you learn to sing like that? What's your name?"
"Just Leo," he said, offering a dazzling smile that seemed to brighten the entire bar. "And you're Y/N." He seemed to know Y/N's name without them telling him, which was a little unsettling but also... intriguing. Y/N wondered if they'd been introduced by a mutual friend, but couldn't recall.
Y/N spent the next hour talking to Leo, and he was utterly fascinating. He spoke about his "passion for healing," which involved volunteering at a local clinic, claiming he had a "knack for knowing what ails people, even before they say it." He then moved on to his "love for the arts," which included not just music, but painting, poetry, and even sculpting. He mentioned a strange "side gig" where he sometimes helped people "find their path" or "see the future," which he dismissed as just being good at reading patterns and human nature. "It's all about observation, Y/N," he'd said with a knowing look. "And a little intuition." He even mentioned a knack for "foretelling the weather," which he dismissed as just being good at reading atmospheric pressure and cloud formations.
"Sometimes," he mused, gazing into his drink, the ice clinking softly, "I feel like I'm meant for something more. Like I have a purpose beyond just... being Leo. A grander calling, perhaps. It's a heavy burden, but a beautiful one."
Y/N nodded, understanding the sentiment. "I think everyone feels that way sometimes. Like there's a bigger picture we're missing, or a destiny we haven't quite found yet."
He looked at Y/N, his eyes intense, seeming to peer right into their soul. "Oh, there's a bigger picture, Y/N. And I'm a pretty significant part of it. I bring light, healing, and inspiration to the world. I guide the sun across the sky, you know, ensuring the days turn into nights and the crops grow. It's a full-time job, really."
Y/N blinked, a slow, incredulous smile spreading across their face. "You guide the sun? Wow, Leo, that's quite the job description. So, you're like, a celestial traffic controller? Or maybe a very dedicated astrophysicist with a flair for the dramatic?"
He chuckled, a warm, melodious sound that resonated deep within Y/N's chest. "Something like that, but far more ancient and far less reliant on technology. I am Apollo, god of the sun, music, healing, and prophecy. And yes, sometimes I do ride a magnificent chariot pulled by fiery steeds."
Y/N burst out laughing, a genuine, hearty laugh that made their shoulders shake and drew a few curious glances. "Apollo? Seriously? You're telling me you're a Greek god? And here I thought you were just a really talented musician with a flair for the dramatic and maybe a slight delusion of grandeur." Y/N wiped a tear from their eye, still chuckling. "That's a good one, Leo. You almost had me there for a second."
He sighed, a hint of amusement in his voice, but also a touch of weary resignation. "The skepticism is strong with this one. But it's true, Y/N. I've been doing this for millennia. The sun doesn't just 'rise' on its own, you know."
Y/N shook their head, still grinning. "Okay, 'Leo,' you're good. Really good. You've got the whole mysterious, ancient vibe down. But I think you've had a few too many of those fancy craft beers. Let's get you some water, or maybe a taxi home."
He just smiled, a knowing glint in his eyes that seemed to hold the wisdom of ages. "Perhaps. But remember this night, Y/N. You met a god, and you laughed in his face. It's not every day that happens."
"And I'd do it again," Y/N retorted, still grinning. "Now, tell me, do you have any more of those amazing songs? Because 'celestial traffic controller' or not, your music is divine."
DIONYSUS
The underground club, "The Bacchanal," pulsed with the relentless beat of the music, a kaleidoscope of strobing lights and bodies moving in sync, a heady mix of sweat and cheap perfume. Y/N was trying to navigate the crowded dance floor, feeling a little out of place amidst the uninhibited revelry, when a hand suddenly grabbed their arm, pulling them into the swirling vortex of dancers.
Y/N spun around, ready to apologize or scold, and came face to face with a man who seemed to embody the very spirit of the club. He had wild, dark curls that framed a face alight with an almost unhinged, joyous energy. His eyes sparkled with an intoxicating mirth, and his laugh, when it came, was a booming, infectious sound that cut through the thumping bass.
"You look like you need to loosen up!" he shouted over the music, his voice surprisingly clear and resonant, almost as if the sound waves parted for him. "Come on, Y/N, let's dance! The night is young, and inhibitions are for squares!"
Before Y/N could protest, he pulled them deeper into the swirling mass of people, his energy utterly contagious. He moved with a primal grace, his movements fluid and uninhibited, a dance that seemed to predate modern choreography. Y/N found themselves laughing and dancing along, forgetting their self-consciousness and inhibitions, caught up in his magnetic aura.
His name was Dion, and he was a force of nature. He talked about his "family vineyard" that produced the most exquisite, mind-altering wines – "It's not just grapes, Y/N, it's... an experience. A journey for the soul!" He spoke of his "travels" to remote villages where he taught people how to "celebrate life" and "embrace the wildness within," often involving impromptu festivals and a lot of very good wine. He even mentioned an "unusual talent" for making everyone feel completely at ease, dissolving their worries and bringing out their true selves. He seemed to embody pure, unadulterated joy, a living, breathing party.
"Life's too short to be serious all the time, right?" he yelled, spinning Y/N around, his grin wide and carefree. "You gotta embrace the madness, the ecstasy! Let go! Feel the rhythm, feel the freedom!"
Y/N grinned back, breathless from the dancing and the sheer force of his personality. "You're definitely one of a kind, Dion. I've never met anyone quite like you."
He winked, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Oh, I am. I bring the party, the revelry, the unbridled passion. I am the spirit of liberation, the one who frees you from your worries, who lets you taste true joy. I ignite the spark of life!"
Y/N laughed, shaking their head. "Sounds like you should be a life coach, or maybe a cult leader. You've got a real knack for getting people to let loose."
He threw his head back, a booming laugh echoing through the club, momentarily overpowering the music. "Something like that, but much, much older. And with a lot more grapes involved, and a few more... interesting followers. I am Dionysus, god of wine, revelry, madness, and ecstasy. And yes, sometimes I have maenads, but they're mostly chill these days."
Y/N stopped dancing, staring at him, their laughter dying in their throat. The strobing lights of the club seemed to swirl around him, and for a fleeting moment, Y/N almost believed him. His eyes held an ancient wisdom, and his presence seemed to fill the entire space. Then, Y/N scoffed, a disbelieving laugh bubbling up. "Dionysus? Seriously? Are you on something, Dion? Or did you just have a little too much of your 'family vineyard's' finest? Because you're sounding a little... unhinged."
He shrugged, a playful glint in his eyes, completely unoffended. "A little of both, perhaps. The wine is divine, after all. But the truth remains, Y/N. I am the god of the vine, the one who brings joy and chaos in equal measure. I am the spirit of freedom."
Y/N shook their head, a wide, amused smile still playing on their lips. "You're absolutely insane, Dion. But in the best possible way. You're the most entertaining person I've met all year. Come on, let's get another drink. You can tell me more about your 'divine' family and your 'maenads'."
He clapped his hands together, his eyes gleaming. "Now you're talking! To madness and beyond! And trust me, my family gatherings are legendary." He pulled Y/N back into the dance, the music seeming to swell around them, and for a moment, Y/N felt truly free.
AEOLUS
The annual city kite festival was a vibrant spectacle, the sky a shifting canvas of colorful, soaring creations, from intricate dragons to whimsical cartoon characters. Y/N was struggling with their own flimsy, store-bought kite, which seemed determined to nosedive into the nearest puddle despite Y/N's most frantic efforts. The wind, or lack thereof, was proving to be a formidable adversary.
Y/N sighed in exasperation, their arms aching from trying to coax the stubborn fabric into flight, when a man with windswept, almost perpetually disheveled hair and eyes the color of a stormy, distant sky approached them. He had a quiet intensity about him, and an almost imperceptible hum seemed to emanate from him, like the faint sound of distant wind chimes. He wore a simple, well-worn leather jacket, despite the mild weather.
"Having some trouble there?" he asked, his voice soft but carrying a surprising resonance, like the rustle of leaves in a gentle breeze.
Y/N sighed again, letting the kite string go slack for a moment. "Understatement of the year. This thing hates me. Or maybe the wind hates me. I think it's personal."
He smiled, a gentle, almost wistful expression that softened the intensity in his eyes. "Perhaps it just needs a little guidance. A whisper in the right direction." He reached out a hand, his fingers long and slender, and as his fingertips brushed ever so lightly against the kite string, a sudden, strong, yet perfectly controlled gust of wind caught Y/N's kite, sending it soaring gracefully into the sky. It danced and dipped, then climbed higher and higher, a perfect arc against the blue.
Y/N gasped, utterly stunned, their jaw dropping. "Whoa! How did you do that? That was incredible! It was just... dead still a second ago!"
"Just a knack," he said, his gaze fixed on the now-dancing kite, a faint smile playing on his lips. "I have a way with the air, you could say. It tends to listen to me. My name is Zephyr."
Zephyr, as he introduced himself, was a man of few words, but his presence was powerful and calming, like the eye of a storm. He talked about his "work" in meteorology, predicting storms with uncanny accuracy – "It's all about feeling the currents, sensing the shifts, you know. The models are just a guide." He then spoke of his "hobby" of sailing, claiming he could always find the perfect breeze, even on the calmest days. He even mentioned a "family business" that involved managing global air currents and weather patterns, which he vaguely described as "complicated logistics" and "keeping things balanced."
"The wind," he murmured, watching a distant cloud formation slowly shift shape, "it has a will of its own. It can be fierce, gentle, playful. But it can be guided. Directed. It listens to me. It's like a symphony, and I'm the conductor."
Y/N raised an eyebrow, a skeptical smile playing on their lips. "So you're saying you control the wind? Like, you're a weather wizard? Or maybe you just have a really good app on your phone?"
He turned to Y/N, his expression unreadable for a moment, then a small, genuine smile touched his lips, a rare sight that made his eyes crinkle at the corners. "Something like that. More ancient than a wizard, and certainly more powerful than an app. I am the keeper of the winds, the one who commands the breezes and the gales. I am Aeolus. And no, I don't have a giant bag of wind, though the myths are rather persistent on that point."
Y/N stared at him, then burst into a fit of giggles, clutching their stomach. "Aeolus? You're telling me you're the Greek god of wind? That's rich! Oh my god, Zephyr, you're hilarious! What, do you have a secret wind tunnel in your backyard? Or do you just stand on a hill and shout at the clouds?"
He looked at Y/N, his expression unreadable for a moment, then his smile widened, a hint of genuine amusement in his eyes. "Not a tunnel, no. And shouting is rarely effective. It's more about... persuasion. But yes, I am he. I've been guiding the winds since before your ancestors learned to sail."
Y/N shook their head, still laughing, tears pricking the corners of their eyes. "You're a riot, Zephyr. A total charmer. You've got a great imagination. But seriously, that kite trick was amazing. You should work for a circus, or maybe become a professional kite flyer. You'd win every competition."
He chuckled softly, a sound like dry leaves rustling. "Perhaps I should. But for now, I'll stick to my current profession. Though, I must admit, it's always entertaining to see the look on a mortal's face when they realize the truth. Or, in your case, when they refuse to believe it."
"Keep dreaming, 'Aeolus'," Y/N said, still grinning, nudging him playfully. "Now, can you make my kite do a loop-de-loop? And maybe spell out my name in the sky?"
He winked, a rare, playful gesture. "For you, Y/N, anything is possible. Just watch the sky."
