How the Gods would react to a broken darling

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Summary: the gods have tortured and scarred their poor y/n for years. What happens when she is no longer the cheerful girl she used to be?
Tw: HEAVY angst, Broken darling, girl pronouns

🖤Hermes:

The smooth, soothing sound of the violin filled the room. Hermes closed his eyes, leaning his chin against the instrument as he played every perfect note effortlessly. He hummed softly to the tune he produced, swaying gently on his feet. Hermes was playing her favorite song, Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake. It brought a wistful longing and a terrible sadness that threatened to tear his bruised heart apart. He was afraid to open his eyes and kept replaying the song over and over, but he knew he couldn't keep going forever.
As the song came to an end for the fifth time, Hermes slowly opened his eyes and brought the violin down from his collarbone. He breathed out a shaky sigh and forced a small smile on his lips, turning to face his dearest. She remained in her seat, staring back at him in silence. She was beautiful still— despite the paleness from the lack of sunlight, and the shadows under her dulled eyes, and the scars on her delicate throat. She was his, forevermore, but she was not happy.

And he feared she would never be.

"Did you like it?" Hermes asked softly, putting the string instrument aside to kneel in front of her and place his hand on her knee. "What do you want me to play next?" He continued, the words leaving him in a desperate rush when she didn't reply to his previous question. Hermes' mouth went dry and he took her hands in his, trembling when he noticed how limp they were. "I'll play anything— anything you want, baby—" He pressed his lips against her knuckles to smother a sudden sob, the knot in his throat preventing him from saying anything else.
Deep down in his heart he knew that she would never be the same again, with or without him, because he had broken her apart without the possibility of ever finding all the pieces that made her. It brought bitter tears to his eyes and he wrapped his arms around her to bury his face into her stomach and wept like a small child.
There was no one to blame but himself.

💙Poseidon:

"My queen~..." Poseidon cooed softly into her ear, running his fingertips along the length of her arm and pressing his lips against her neck. He giggled and nuzzled his nose against the steady thrum of her pulse, tracing the scars and gruesome bites marks tarnishing her once unblemished skin. There was no response from his darling, meaning that she was probably ignoring him again. How cute....

"Aren't you going to scream for your Beloved Poseidon ...?"

Poseidon whispered her name, shuffling closer to press his front flush against her back, and dragged his tongue up from the base of her throat to the curve of her jaw. He moaned softly at the taste, his eyelids fluttering as the flush on his cheeks grew warmer. He expected her to turn around, to see that delicious anger in her eyes and feel the pain of her open palm hitting his cheek. His smile faltered when the seconds passed and nothing happened.Poseidon said her name again, all humor gone as annoyance smothered the playful need.
The only sounds in their room was their breathing and the ticking of the clock on the wall. Poseidon grabbed her by the arms, his cold fingers digging into her delicate flesh, and turned her around. His furious blue eyes scanned her features, taking in her palid appearance and the bruise like shadows under her strangely dull eyes. That arousing spark was gone, snuffed like the small flame of a candle. His mouth went dry and his fingers loosened their hold on her arms until they fell back to his sides. Poseidon started to say her name again, but promptly closed his mouth at the sound of his voice breaking. He fisted the hem of his shirt, his hands clammy and shaking. For a moment, he was back at the bowels of the dungeon, the cold eyes of his father staring down at him indifferently even as he begged for forgiveness.
Poseidon forced a smile on his lips, closing his eyes so he didn't have to look at her face, "I'll come back in a bit, okay, My queen?" He didn't wait for the reply he knew wasn't going to come and rushed to the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He clasped a hand over his mouth at the taste of bile in the back of his throat, his eyes burning and blurring as tears spilled down his cheeks.
And, for a second, Poseidon could've sworn he heard his father's wicked laughter over the sound of his muffled sobs.

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