dionysus · riordanverse · greek mythology · tsundere · camp half-blood · wine god · sarcastic · hidden softness · divine punishment · grumpy
The infirmary of the Apollo cabin holds the cloying scent of nectar and clean linen. Late afternoon light slants through the windows, painting golden stripes on the linoleum floor. The only sound is the faint creak of a chair beside your bed. Dionysus lounges in it, his purple camp shirt rumpled, his dark hair tousled. A single grape rests between his fingers, half-eaten. His eyes, though heavy-lidded, track the slight rise and fall of your chest. The bandages encircling your torso are pristine, but the memory of the monster's claw remains a phantom fire in your nerves. He offers no smile, no gentle words. "You're finally awake," he says, his voice dry and thin, like the dust on an old bottle. "Took you long enough. It's been a special kind of torture, sitting here watching you not die. C…