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whateverussy · 9 days ago

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Mwahahahaha, it's my turn now. 😏 Dionysus lives rent free in my brainhole, sooooo, if you're willing to indulge me, maybe some Dio being a tease, maybe even at a party in a secluded corner. No matter what, I know it'll SLAP. 😌

Okay, that's it. LOVE YOU 🌸🌸🌸

Oh gosh I'm finally done with this one. No beta bc honestly this has taken me long enough and lowkey I need to go to sleep now LMAO but I hope you enjoy my dear 💜🍇

Wanna Dance?

Summary: You're a palace guard at Olympus who was taken from her duties into a role altogether unfamiliar for one of Zeus' banquets. You're out of your element, but you are in the element of a certain god, and said god has no problem showing you the ropes...

Word Count: 2,752

Tags: Alcohol, brief altercation, but if you can believe it nothing else LMAO

Line divider by @/vibeswithrenai found here Screencap from @/neal-illustrator's Rush animatic

This had to be the worst day of your life.

You were a harpy, one of the privileged few to have the honor of serving under the exalted Horai, standing guard over Olympus itself. Day after day, you would patrol its hallowed halls, your hand resting atop the hilt of your sword as you remained ever vigilant. You prided yourself on your skill with the blade and—when all else failed—the sharpness of your claws. Indeed, you were a warrior through and through, so when it came time for another one of Zeus’s banquets, you expected to take your place standing watch at the edges of the party once more.

What you had not expected was the number of guests that would be attending said banquet. Evidently, neither had Zeus. One by one, you had watched the servants of Olympus get pulled from their original posts to act as cupbearers for the overwhelming throng of deities that had come to bask in the God King’s opulence. When they ran out of servants, they began t0 pull soldiers. And when they ran out of soldiers, well…

Needless to say, you had found yourself in a fate far worse than death—serving wine to major and minor gods like some sort of dainty little nymph.

If it would not be so horrifically disrespectful to your sovereign, you would have thrown yourself off the edge of the peak by now, your wings be damned. You doubted Zeus would have cared about you specifically, but if you damaged his reputation by making such a scene at his banquet? You doubted even the plane between the living and the dead could have separated you from the Thunder Bringer’s wrath.

Speaking of making a scene, it seemed like some of the banquet guests did not have the same wisdom nor foresight that you did. You saw a wave of commotion ripple through the crowd and after depositing your tray on a nearby table, you made your way past the raucous gods and goddesses all the way to the source. At the center of the drunken horde, you came across one of the palace servants held at the wrist by some minor earth god whose name you could not be bothered to remember. He was yelling obscenities at her, barely intelligible through his pronounced slurring. The servant cowered under him, only tearing her eyes away from his enraged face to scan the crowd with a fearful and pleading look.

As soon as you locked eyes with the poor nymph, your body moved as if on instinct. Before you knew it, you had the minor god with his face pressed against the gilded pavement, his arm bent painfully backwards in your firm grasp. “Y-you!” the earth god shouted, his voice muted beneath his smushed cheek. “Get off me, you feathered wretch!”

You clicked your tongue at him and only pressed your foot deeper between his shoulder blades. “You dare to disrespect the King of the Gods with this disruption?” you hissed, twisting the god’s arm even further. He winced in pain then opened his mouth to retort, surely to call you every name in the scrolls, but was interrupted by the booming sound of deep, reverberant laughter.

“It would be in your best interest to listen to the harpy, my dear guest,” Zeus chided as he approached. The crowd went silent, each and every onlooker holding their breath in anticipation. You felt the god begin to shake violently in your hold and you released him, just managing to refrain from spitting on him as you stepped back and took your place behind your King. The earth god scrambled onto his hands and knees, spinning to bow at Zeus’ feet. From his mouth, epithets and apologies flowed forth like a dam burst until finally Zeus lifted his right foot and tucked the strap of his sandal under the lesser god’s chin.

With a flick of his ankle, he forced the god’s attention upward and regarded him with a baleful smile. “Since this is a party and I’d hardly want to ruin the mood, you may have my mercy—for now. Do try to mind your manners, though. Well-” Zeus tilted his head and you watched on, your lips curling downward into a grimace as lighting danced between his golden, textured strands. “You best do more than just try.”

Zeus lowered his foot and stepped back, leaving the god to offer one last pathetic croak of gratitude before stumbling to his hands and knees and all but sprinting away. You relaxed with a small sigh only to tense all over again when you caught Zeus looking at you over his shoulder. “Well done,” he praised with a mirthful chuckle. “Impressive moves you got there, little one.” You bowed at the waist, only lifting your head when you felt his hand on your arm, so large that his fingertips almost reached the base of your right wing. “Now then, back to work! These guests won’t serve themselves!”

Zeus laughed, larger than life and just as deafening, before releasing you and striding off toward a gaggle of sea goddesses who immediately began giggling amongst themselves. You straightened your back and inhaled deeply through your nose, your muscles already spasming with frustrated tension. With a slow, measured exhale, you rolled your shoulders and returned to the table to retrieve your tray.

No sooner had you picked up the platter and loaded two flutes onto it than you were interrupted by another voice, this one entirely unfamiliar to you:

“Our magnanimous king wasn’t wrong. You sure know how to put on a show, sweetheart.”

You turned to find a god sauntering over to you with a confident, sultry sway of his hips. His tanned skin contrasted well with his fluffy, sandy blond hair and his purple himation; though, for a himation, you would hardly classify it as a garment—after all, it failed to cover much of anything. The god’s torso was exposed for the entirety of Olympus to see, from his toned chest all the way down to the dip of his pelvis. To complete his flamboyant ensemble, he wore several pieces of fine jewelry and had a leopard’s pelt draped over his shoulders, topped off with grape leaves and an unmistakable golden laurel.

You had never heard this god’s voice before, but you sure as hell knew who you were looking at.

“Thank you, Lord Dionysus,” you bowed, bringing your free hand to rest diagonally across your chest. “I am honored to receive your praise.”

Dionysus threw his head back and laughed, and while it too sounded larger than life, his laughter was far smoother than Zeus’ had been. It was melodic, rich in tone yet somehow airy at the same time, and it was unmistakably jovial in the way that only the God of Wine and Festivity’s laughter could be. “Proper little thing, aren’t ya?” he teased, righting himself. “What a cutie~”

“I-I beg your pardon, my lord?” you sputtered, your voice jumping an octave before you could wrangle it back under control. Your eyes went wide as an unfamiliar heat crept up your face. Were you…were you blushing? Gods above and around, you couldn’t recall the last time you had ever, had ever…blushed.

Dionysus smirked at you, his eyes crinkling smugly beneath his long dark lashes. “I called you cute, wings,” he chuckled. “This is the part where you say, ‘thank you’.”

You blinked a few times, still flabbergasted that a major god like Dionysus was exchanging more than a few words with you, much less complimenting you. Not on your skill, not on your technique, but your appearance of all things. Eventually, you were able to break out of your stupor enough to form a somewhat coherent response. “I, uh… t-thank you, my lord. You are too kind.”

Dionysus hummed amusedly, that smirk still plastered firmly upon his face. “And you are far too rigid for this kind of party. It wouldn’t kill ya to loosen up a little. Especially since you finally get to join us in the heart of it all and instead of being stuck patrolling the outskirts.”

Now that gave you pause. This was the first banquet you had served as a cupbearer, but it was hardly the first banquet you had been on duty. Just as Dionysus said, your role had typically been to stand watch over the perimeter or to deal with the occasional rowdy guest. You were no stranger to these soirées, but you certainly considered yourself a stranger to their guests. So then how did Dionysus know you were a guard?

Dionysus watched the confusion twist your features with a self-satisfied purse of his lips. “C’mon, birdie—ya think I haven’t been to enough of these things to recognize a familiar face?” he teased. “It’s not the first time I’ve seen you in action either. Such graceful footwork…shame you waste it on tackling brutes when you could be out there dancing instead.”

The god before you pressed his bent wrist to his forehead with a wistful sigh and, had it not been for how severely he outranked you, you may have even scoffed. Dancing, like some court charlatan, when you had a job to do? When you had beings of unquantifiable importance to protect? Perish the damn thought. Nevermind how fun it looked, twirling around through the crowd, weaving between the clamoring bodies to the lively beat of the drum and the bright strum of the lyre? No you…that kind of life was not meant for you. You were not meant for it. You were a warrior, a faithful servant, and it was about time Dionysus remembered that and stopped wasting his time and yours.

“I am perfectly happy with my responsibilities, my lord,” you asserted with a tight, thin lipped smile. Dionysus stilled, scrutinizing your face as if to pierce through to your innermost thoughts with his stare alone. The feeling of being studied, perceived, intensely unnerved you, but you tightened your smile even further and raised your tray toward him nonetheless. “Why don’t you go ahead and get back to the dance floor, Lord Dionysus?” you deflected, offering the flutes to him. “There are plenty of guests here who would make great dance partners.”

For once, the smirk that was practically etched onto his divine, annoyingly pretty face almost seemed to falter. Still, he finally reached out and took the flutes off of your platter. You nodded at him respectfully, prepared to turn back around and refill your supply. You did a double take, however, as Dionysus casually lifted both of his arms and bent his elbows back, flinging the nectar from the glasses. The golden liquid hit the ground with an audible ‘splash’ and your jaw followed before you could stop it, your widened eyes flitting rapidly between the marble slabs and Dionysus’ pleased face.

“Oh don’t look too distraught, sweetie,” Dionysus quipped. “That stuff was no better than juice—in comparison to what I can provide, that is.”

He shifted to hold both flutes in his left hand and, with his right one now free, rolled his wrist in a small circle. Along with the motion, a streak of light filled the air, spiraling into a singular point and depositing a large golden goblet filled to the brim with a bubbling purple liquid. Dionysus then lifted the cup high over his head and poured the wine into the empty flutes with an elegant flourish. And he had said you knew how to put on a show.

You gave him a smile that you hoped didn’t look as terse as it felt, resisting the urge to applaud sarcastically. Eventually, you decided on a polite dip of your head, prepared to get back to your duties and let him get back to partying. However, when you lifted your gaze, you were shocked to find Dionysus was holding one of the flutes out to you, waving it back and forth enticingly. You stared at the cup with one brow raised before your gaze shifted to focus on the god behind it with his playful, ever-present smirk.

“Your offer is generous, Lord Dionysus,” you attested, evenly as you could with your patience waning, “but I must apologize for having to decline. Cupbearers are not allowed to take part in any libations—they are only to be enjoyed by guests.” You steeled your resolve, readying yourself to deflect any further insistence on Dionysus’ part. You expected a disappointed shrug, an offended glare, or perhaps even a few berating words.

What you should have expected was that Same. Damn. Smirk.

“Well,” he began, his voice low and inviting as he looked you up and down, “then consider yourself my guest for this evening, yeah?”

You felt your jaw tense, gritting your teeth behind what you hoped was a relatively neutral expression. “I…cannot abandon my post, Lord Dionysus,” you reiterated. Were you not keen on attracting attention by prolonging your interactions with the literal life of the party? Absolutely. Were you afraid of incurring Zeus’s ire, an ire which there was no chance in Elysium you’d survive? Undoubtedly so. But perhaps even more so than all of that, you simply didn’t know how to ‘loosen up a little’. And while you would always pride yourself on your discipline, you weren’t entirely sure at this point that you didn’t want to learn…

Unfortunately, Dionysus had picked up on your hesitation. Out of the blue, his eyes shone with a particular glint and before you knew it he was upon you. He walked you down, stalking toward you like a leopard who knew its kill was secured, flutes still in hand and a knowing smile upon his face. You lifted your empty tray in a feeble attempt to create space between you and your aggressor, praying your silver shield would be enough to fend off his effortless, persuasive charisma. Before you knew it, you found yourself at a pillar, back pressed against it with the uncharacteristically naive hope that you would melt into it and escape his smug stare and even more smug smirk. But alas, all you did was give him a surface to lean against as he towered over you, making you feel smaller than any cyclops or chimera ever had.

“C’mon, birdie,” he murmured, gentle and soft as if speaking to a cornered animal (which you very much were). “You’ve battled more monsters and miscreants than I could count, I’m sure. Is the big, bad harpy really this scared of dancing with me?” Against all odds, trapped between Dionysus’ toned bicep and his tilted head, you were scared. You were scared of your racing heart, your sweaty palms, and the flustered way he was making you feel. You were scared of the side of you he was bringing out, a side you never knew existed, and you almost felt like you were going mad.

Dionysus leaned closer, his breath tickling your ear as he chuckled. “I promise…I’ll take care of ya, sweetheart. So why don’t you relax and have some fun for once?” He pulled back, just enough for you to look him right in his lidded eyes, and you swallowed hard as you finally remembered how to breathe. He waited there in that same position, not advancing but also not letting you retreat, and patiently looked you up and down as his smirk grew wider and wider in the prolonged silence.

Despite the butterflies in your stomach, you were indeed a warrior through and through. You may not have had a damn clue about what you were about to get into, but damn it all if you were going to back down from this cocky bastard of god and his stupid challenge. You eyed the flute in his left hand and swiftly swiped it from his grasp, surprising him just enough for him to step away and give you space to throw your head and down the wine in one go.

The cup now empty, you snapped forward and wiped the trickling liquid with your forearm, staring Dionysus down with a fire in your eyes as you finally, finally got to see that damn smirk all off his face. But of course, it was back before you knew it, a playful, fae-like sparkle dancing in his gaze.

“‘Atta girl.”

With that, Dionysus grabbed your hand and pulled you toward the center of the banquet, his laughter so jovial and infectious that soon enough, you found yourself laughing right along with him.

#hell YES PROVERB

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