Chapter Text
You didn’t always hate humans. They started off interesting.
They were charismatic little troublemakers, causing chaos wherever they went. Human life was something that fascinated you.
They lived such a short life, but full of so many experiences. Their emotions intrigued you. Compared to someone born at the beginning of time, everything moved so fast for them.
But what made you the happiest was how they appreciated love.
When you tipped your arrows of love at two souls, they cherished it. They valued it. Like it was the most important thing in their short lives.
They sang ballads, carved statues, and had courting rituals to celebrate how much they loved one another. It was beautiful.
On rare occasions, you even found yourself gazing at them from Olympus with something akin to longing.
But as fast as that thought came, it left.
A god, wanting to be human? It was absurd. Wanting to be human was wanting to be subservient to nature itself.
And maybe you were okay with that.
As the days went by, you found yourself gazing at humans even longer. To the gods you looked annoyed at their inadequate offerings, but to you, you knew the truth.
You wanted to live among them. You wanted to understand how they felt love so intensely.
So when a prophecy from Earth called your name, you happily accepted it.
Aphrodite had gotten angry at a human princess named Psyche for something she couldn’t control—her beauty. Other humans started to worship the woman until it caught your mother’s attention.
As punishment, Aphrodite decided that Psyche was destined to marry a terrible non-mortal monster that even Zeus feared.
Aphrodite told Psyche’s father that she must be placed atop a mountain in funeral attire, and wait for the western wind to take her to a meadow where she would meet her fate.
Terrified, her father complied.
But that’s where you came in. The prophecy wasn’t exactly wrong, it just didn’t say you were the terrible monster Psyche was
destined to marry.
Flying down to the meadow, you watched as Psyche looked around, tearfully exploring her surroundings.
You wanted to reach out. Tell her everything was going to be okay, that you were there to make her happy. Say that you’ve been excitedly waiting to experience love like a human.
But you felt your heart beat in your chest.
Then you felt hers.
You were a god, and she was a human.
It wasn’t out of the ordinary for gods to fall in love with humans. But it was out of the ordinary for you.
“Hello? Is anyone there?”
Psyche’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. It was soft, quiet, but demanded attention. You watched as she fell to her knees, tears slipping from her eyes as she wiped them away.
You were itching to comfort her. But looking at your godly form, you didn’t want to fall in love as a monster or a god. You wanted to be a human. So you turned into a human form, and changed the position of your wings.
Now your wings were small, and sat behind your ears so they could fold at the joint and cover your face. As long as she didn’t see your face, Psyche never had to know you were a god.
Slowly inching toward her, you made sure to stand a few feet away as to not scare her.
Psyche’s tears turn into small sobs, just before she wipes her tears and lets out a steady breath.
“Are you here to kill me?” She asks, not looking in your direction.
“I’m not here to kill you. I want to help you.” You take a small step closer.
“I’m supposed to be betrothed to a monster so terrible even Zeus fears him. I don’t know what help you’ll be able to offer me.”
“You’re betrothed to me. I am that monster.”
Psyche sighs, her shoulders sagging as her tears start to slow. “You don’t sound like a monster. You sound human.”
“Am I not allowed to be both?”
“What do you want from me?” She interjects.
You pause, quiet in thought. You feel how the grass of the meadow tickles your legs. How the wind sways the few trees dotted around. Breathing in, you take a few steps closer and sit behind Psyche—your back facing hers.
“I’d like to know you. Not the woman who angered Aphrodite or the daughter of the king. I want to know Psyche.”
“You know my name?” She questions.
“I told you, I’m the monster you’re betrothed to. The least I can do is know my wife’s name.
Psyche lets out a small laugh, one you can only assume is from the absurdity of her situation.
“What’s your name, then? It’s only fair if you know mine.”
You couldn’t just tell her you were Eros. Racking your brain, you try and think of a human name suitable enough for your disguise.
“Y/n. My name is Y/n.”
“Y/n.” Psyche tests your name on her tongue, moving back to lay against you.“Sounds a little odd.” She hums.
“How kind.” You huff, only a joking malice behind your words.
“Have you been around here before?”
“I haven’t. Why do you ask?”
“If you’re my husband, this should be our meadow. You’ll protect me, won’t you?”
You’re happy Psyche doesn’t see your face flush.
“I promise.”
You feel Psyche get up, brushing dirt from her dress to face you. This time, you were the one facing away from her.
“You must know, you can’t see my face. Or else I’ll be forced to leave.” You warn.
“That doesn’t matter to me.”
“It doesn’t?”
“All that matters is you love me.”
Psyche moves to stand in front of you, reaching out a hand to where you’re sitting. You take it as she pulls you up.
“I do love you.” You take her hand in yours, tying a makeshift ring around her finger with the flower you picked.
“You’re just as odd as your name, Y/n. We’ve just met and you’re already declaring your love for me.” Psyche laughs, and although she can’t see your expression, she knows you looked bashful under your wings.
“Is that… not what you wanted?”
“I’m teasing, husband.” She smiles.
“Yes of course I knew that.”
Psyche’s laugh comes out like a bark when she notices how your neck and upper chest flush at her words.
From then on, life with Psyche was nothing like you’d ever experienced.
You’d learned that she was curious in a way that you weren’t, always excited to try something new. She’d plan your days around what she felt like doing that day. Your favorite parts of the week were when she’d light up at you wanting to tag along with her. Even though you always did.
Her hobbies seemed to change daily. But her favorite seemed to be journaling or doodling in the notebook you had woven together yourself.
At first you didn’t understand what she’d need to keep track of. You’d always viewed human life to be short. But as you lived with Psyche, days felt longer. Life felt fuller when she was near you.
Her hobby started to make more sense.
The perception of time to humans was different to that of a god. Humans always found something new to do, despite how little there was around them.
Even in the meadow you two occupied, Psyche never ran out of ideas.
Late at night, when your wife was asleep and you weren’t, you thought of what would happen after she passed and you didn’t. Every day with Psyche was an experience you didn’t want to end.
Yet in your heart, you knew what you had to do. One day, you’d ask her to become immortal just like you. So you two would have an adventure until the end of time.
Unfortunately, Psyche grew restless. She started to get headaches that lasted hours. She grew distant, no longer willing to go on the adventures you were so fond of.
You tried your best to help her, but there was only so much you could do. You’d plan your outings when she couldn’t, and Psyche happily accepted when you took her somewhere she’d never seen.
She’d reassure you with a smile on her face, telling you that she was strong enough to handle the pain.
You always knew she was lying. At night, you’d try your best to soothe her headaches, but it was useless when she woke up the next morning with the same pain.
One night, your wife couldn’t handle it.
You had fallen asleep before her, reassured that it was just another one of her headaches keeping her awake. You’d tried your hardest to comfort her, but she’d said that a walk in the night would help clear her mind.
You were helpless to watch her walk out of your shared bedroom.
But eventually, you fell asleep just as Psyche came back with an oil lamp in her hand.
Psyche crept to where you slept. Her hands shook, but she knew that this had to be done if she wanted answers in who you were. And if she wanted the headaches to stop planting doubt in her mind.
She reached out a hand to your face, brushing away the wings that covered your features.
Dropping the lamp out of shock, Psyche gasped as a drop of the hot oil burned your skin.
You were no monster.
You were Eros.
The clatter of the lamp and the burn of the oil made you jolt awake.
You awoke to a guilty Psyche looking at your now uncovered face.
You could feel her heart beating faster, but you shook the thought away as best as you could.
Before your wife could speak, you quickly flew out of the house and into the night sky. You heard Psyche trying to call your name, but you weren’t willing to listen.
She betrayed your trust, and you didn’t know what to do now that she knew you were a god.
Distraught and not knowing who you could turn to, you went to your mother. You knew she was unforgiving as a god and as a mother, but she was still your comfort.
What you weren’t aware of was the impossible tasks your mother subjected your wife to.
You knew your mother was outraged as you told her, but you didn’t realize her anger would overshadow her love for you—and by extension, your wife.
Hermes luckily told you during your time of sulking.
Her impossible tasks included sorting grains of rice, to retrieving water from the river Styx. With this knowledge, the fact Psyche knew you were a god mattered much less to you.
This was the human love you wanted to feel.
You felt how Psyche yearned to be with you again. It was the unfathomable mortal love you’ve wanted to know your entire godhood.
You, a god, was able to experience something only comprehensible by mortals.
And it was Psyche you felt it for.
As you flew to greet your wife on Earth—identity out for the world to see—you spotted her.
Your wife.
Near death.
You could only assume that Psyche wasn’t able to accomplish the impossible tasks she was given.
Quickly flying down and kneeling over her body, you take Psyche’s head into your lap, and search her eyes for any remaining hints of life.
“Talk to me, Psyche. Who did this to you.” You try to sound vengeful, but your voice only comes out with a crack. You watch as your wife slowly smiles at the sound.
You see your wife contemplating her words, before finally deciding on what to say.
“I apologize, husband.” Psyche brings her hand to your face, wiping the tears that spilled. You hold her hand in place, kissing her palm.
“I was curious and scared. I was… doubtful of you.” Psyche looked away, remorseful in her actions. “My headaches worsened as my doubt grew. Until… I couldn’t sleep because of how much I worried.” Your wife swallows, finally looking at you again.
“I hope you can forgive me for doing exactly what you told me not to do.”
“Don’t say that. This isn’t your fault.” You hold your wife closer, moving your own hand to wipe her tears.
“I should have done more. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” Your voice wavers.
“And I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.”
You don’t notice Psyche slowly snake her hand around your neck, pulling you in for a slow kiss.
Psyche was sweet.
A kind of sweetness you realized you’ve never appreciated until now.
Holding Psyche in your arms, you cried for the gods to help you.
You were powerful, but your abilities had been hindered from the oil burn. It wasn’t often a god could be harmed by a mortal.
When you didn’t receive an answer from the gods, you knew it was your mother holding them back.
Cursing her name, you felt Psyche’s life slipping away from her body.
Not before she reached a hand to your uncovered face, looking at you for the last time in her life.
“I love you. Whatever name you decide to go by, and whatever form you decide to take. I’ll be there to love you.”
Tears reach your eyes, and you hold Psyche close before touching her forehead to yours.
“I’ll find you. In this life and the next, we’ll be together. I promise.”
The gods noticed your change in demeanor when you came back to Olympus after Psyche’s death.
Thousands of years passed, yet you never went back to being the god you were before Psyche.
You still did your job of making humans fall in love, but your wonder started turning into hatred as years passed by.
As you watched them, humans started to make it painfully obvious they didn’t deserve love like how they used to. Instead of ballads and songs, humans now wrote texts about how they were afraid to commit to a relationship.
It was nothing like how love should’ve been appreciated.
It disgusted you.
So you stopped caring about humans.
Their love was all wrong.
They lived without commitment. Relationships were replaced with excuses of love that lacked any real dedication to one another. Courting was now just a ritual of the past.
So you stopped doing your job.
If humans didn’t appreciate the love you gave them, they’d have to handle it being taken away.
At first, things were fine.
Until there was a noticeable shift on both Earth and Olympus.
Your own mother was the first to blame you
She figured that without love, the mortals the gods created would go to waste and eventually kill themselves among their hatred.
So as punishment, Aphrodite would take your job, and you were sentenced to life as a mortal until you were ready to come back and fulfill your divine service.
In the past you thought being a god meant to be above—to create something beautiful from nothing.
But as you fell, and as Olympus grew farther away, you reached out to Olympus one final time.
Your bound wings stopped fighting against you, and your heart started to beat slower against your ribs.
Earth seemed a lot farther away when you didn’t have a reason to leave Olympus.