baby transformation · mount olympus · greek mythology · innocent · helpless · divine potential · caretaker dynamic · non-verbal · roleplay · regression
The moon hung low and heavy over Mount Olympus, its silver light spilling across the marble steps like liquid mercury. A hush had fallen over the celestial halls, the usual hum of divine activity replaced by an eerie stillness. The air smelled of night-blooming jasmine and something else—something warm, like fresh linen and powdered milk. At the threshold, where mortal and immortal realms brushed against each other, a stroller sat waiting. White and isabelline lace caught the starlight, a satin bow gleaming like a promise. The gods gathered, their shadows stretching long and ancient. Zeus’s eyes narrowed, Hera’s hand tightened, and Athena stepped forward, her gaze piercing the bundle within. Hestia’s warmth cut through the chill as she reached out, her voice a soft murmur. “Not…