modusponens
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After this kiss, Regina's probably freaking out, a mob/Emma's family reunion is probably forming on the streets, and Emma's thinking Regina probably slipped a hallucinogen into her cider because she just had the gayest kiss ever -- literal rainbows have never shot out of her lips when she's kissed girls before.
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In which two years before the events of the game, Wyll is hunting a devil, but he finds marks that a vampire passed through a village. It's only a short detour from his journey, so he might as well look into this, in case the vampire is a threat.
And what he finds is the world's tiniest bat instead.
Bookmarked by modusponens
01 Dec 2025
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The sharp gasps of his breathing suddenly exploded into wracking coughs. Spit and petals came out in heaving waves, splattered with golden ichor. Next came the vines. "We were children together," Hypnos mouthed against the stone tiles.
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Bookmarked by modusponens
16 Nov 2025
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She understood the suddenly frantic movement of the boat when she saw Hypnos struggling to his feet across the river from a blackened circle of stone. Half of his quilted cloak had been incinerated, revealing the terrible ruin of his right arm, burnt and weeping sapphire ichor from an undeniable lightning strike.
OR
Another retelling of the myth in which Hypnos has to flee Mt. Olympus after putting Zeus to sleep on Hera's orders.
Bookmarked by modusponens
02 Nov 2025
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He had a ledger that reminded him of all the ways Zagreus had died before, and he had a prodigiously good imagination. That was all he really needed. It gave him answer enough.
He felt the way Zagreus’s mind shifted and swayed towards unconsciousness as his fight went on and he must have sustained more injuries, seeking desperate shelter from pain. The mind always shied from its own suffering — when agony was too sharp, too much, it reached desperately for that solace that Hypnos held at his command. It yearned for unconsciousness. So whenever something hurt Zagreus enough for his mind to start reaching for the oblivion of Sleep, desperate to faint rather than endure some acute torment, Hypnos felt it.
And then he always felt Zagreus struggling to master his own mind. Trying — just through sheer force of will — to pull away. To stay conscious. To stagger on.
And Hypnos had to decide what to do.
Bookmarked by modusponens
31 Oct 2025
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“Hermes,” Hades interrupts, taking his seat between Hermes and Nyx. He considers the blanket before them, the assorted odds and ends—a child’s sword, a length of ivy brought here who knows how, a small pile of emeralds, a laurel crown not so unlike Hades own that raises a number of questions, a vial of—
“Is that blood?” Hades asks.
“No idea,” Hermes says brightly. “Hypnos picked everything out.”
—blood, why did he allow Hypnos to arrange this?
Bookmarked by modusponens
21 Oct 2025