I’ve died on purpose every single time, just to see you

The last drawing this year?

My new obsession

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Picnic on the charon’s boat.

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -

And sore must be the storm -

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm -

everyone’s favourite god of sleep

No Dreaming for Those Who Have Died

1. Achilles

Hypnos had waited long before this moment to turn around. It was ironic that something of his own doing had been plaguing the House for such a time, and yet he had not felt the need to bring it up until now.

It was rare for Shades to sleep, especially ones who were on duty. But since Zagreus had started going out into the realms so often, it was not necessary for Achilles to be at attention in his post forever. The Master of the House had hardly noticed when Achilles would take slips into other rooms, or would retire for a little while when he got bored of the West Wing itself. Hypnos had wondered if he would pick up one of Orpheus’ discarded lyres one of these days, but found it to be only wishful thinking. Achilles would likely not press what little freedom he had.

It was when Achilles had actually gone to sleepthat Hypnos first began to worry. The Chthonic God wondered if he should mention something to the Shade’s Prince and ward, but had decided against it for a little while. Cruel as it was, Hypnos craved a little entertainment. So instead, he watched carefully, curious as to where this would lead.

He had not had to wait long, in the end. After all, he was the head administration for dreams and sleep and all of that business; so, when Achilles had retired to somewhere within the House and chosen to close his eyes, Hypnos found himself suddenly drawn to the subconscious. 

That had happened dozens of times. More and more frequently with each passing… day, or night, or however long. Point was, it was concerning.

Finally, Hypnos’ meager sense of responsibility had gotten the better of him. There was a lull in death traffic, not that it would have mattered, so he let his bare feet rest on the cool floor of the House’s stone, and padded into the West Wing. 

Achilles looked up, blue eyes sparking in mild surprise when Hypnos stood before him. 

“Your Grace,” the soldier nodded. Hypnos smiled just slightly, always flattered by the respect the Shade had for him despite their rare interactions in the waking world. 

“Achilles, I… wanted to ask you a question.” Hypnos twisted his hands in the hem of his cloak before folding them in his lap altogether. His feet left the floor, and he crossed his legs comfortably beneath himself, hovering. It was more comfortable this way, kept safe under his wide red clothing. 

Achilles’ posture relaxed slightly at Hypnos’ casual gesture, but the set expression of his face and scrutinizing gaze of his eyes betrayed how he still remained on edge. “Ask away.”

Suddenly, Hypnos faltered. Achilles’ set features, the - well, for lack of a better word, dead - tone he used unsettling what confidence had led the Sleep God here. Part of him wished he would hear the distant sloshing of Zagreus emerging from the river, soon. Another part of him wished Lord Hades himself would bellow at them for their carelessness and send them sheepishly back to their posts. But it remained silent, wide and bright golden eyes staring into bright blue, although dimmed by death itself. 

“Your Grace?” Achilles prodded, voice softer. 

“Why do you keep asking to dream of him? It always… When I give you the reins like that, it always ends badly.” Hypnos cringed at his poor choice of words, give you the reins. “Sorry…”

Achilles straightened, expression going stoic and guarded. He stared at Hypnos, silent, and for a minute Hypnos wondered if he would not answer at all. But all at once, Achilles deflated, a long-suffering sigh leaving his perfect, breathless lips.

“Do not apologize. I do not know. And I’m afraid you’re hardly letting me in control of anything when I do dream.” He grit his teeth and shuffled his sandaled feet, looking down briefly. 

“I’m following what your subconscious wants. I only take full control when someone deserves to be punished, or needs a talking to, oh! Or like a wake-up call, isn’t that funny? Anyways, I…” Hypnos trailed off, sobering up when he saw Achilles’ stare return to the floor.

“Achilles,” Hypnos said, much softer now. “I don’t know any other way to say this. Just stop sleeping.” He laughed incredulously, cringing and hoping the sound did not come off disrespectful. “You don’t need to! If you don’t want to dream about your best friend slash husband slash soulmate getting… well, you know… just stop. I can make it stop, but only if you help me out and don’t fall asleep just waiting for me to walk into your dream.”

“I have to see him, though. I don’t know if you would understand, Your Grace,” Achilles bit out. Something blazed behind those blue eyes, but died out as easily as a spark in the rain. There was no energy for anger and hatred among the good spirits here. 

Hypnos felt an ache. “Not by experience, but… Yeah. I get it. And I’m sorry. I wish I could…” His nervous laugh came out infinitely more dejected, now. “I wish I could actually help. I wish I could give you good dreams about him. But the bad ones are just… so strong.”

“I know. And with all due respect, Your Grace, I wish for more than a dream. But…” Achilles sighed and stamped the butt of his spear on the carpet beneath his feet. “He is lost to me. And that is my doing. So, if I must see him in no more than the most painful of nightmares, then so be it. It is about what I deserve.”

“That’s not how it…” Hypnos sighed quietly. “Not how it works, exactly… Well, anyways, good talk, Achilles. I’ll - um - I’ll see you around.” Hypnos chewed his lip awkwardly, uncomfortable, feeling no progress from this exchange.

“Thank you for stopping by.” Achilles said in farewell, and Hypnos turned to return to his station.

Hypnos wished that was not the first time he’d had an encounter so unsuccessful. Most were like that, rather.

He thought of who else he had visited of late.

———-

[Note: I thought of this while playing last night but did not have time to smash out a draft! I think I want to make this an ongoing drabbles series, of just - Hypnos visiting the people in the Underworld/Olympus he gives dreams to when he shouldn’t have to, them being dead or gods and all. Who should he confront next? What should happen! Send me asks, let me know!]

reinasero:

[Hey guys!!! It’s been awhile since I’ve been active!! But school is coming to a close and my health is back in check so let’s chat again!! Send me asks! What’s been going on babes?]

Happy new year everyone, now get some sleep

Happy new year everyone, now get some sleep

A sweet little sleepy Thanatos for an art trade with @art-of-gnomes

I have fallen in love with the design & absolute brat energy that @darkcatss on Twitter Hypnos gives me

as tripute i offer this drawing where i couldn’t stop adding more and more shit sdjjhsf

i have seen hardly ANY content for this ship & honestly? that makes me sad bc its such an interesting dynamic!
well you know what they say, if it can’t be done right do it yourself

You can find the full version on my Twitter bc Tumblr scares me :) https://mobile.twitter.com/FeralArtChild/status/1349720958718799879

sleepy man

Wholesome mama Nyx art with young Zagreus and helpful Hypnos