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#Heracles appeared
lyculuscaelus · 1 month
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Hylas being left behind by the Argonauts and getting kidnapped by the Naiads in the Argonautica is giving the vibes of Elpenor being left behind by Odysseus’s crew and getting himself killed in the Odyssey
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xxcrystalinerose · 17 days
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KEEPSAKE ART!! KEEPSAKE ART!!
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I've been waiting for this in particular and there are some very interesting looking keepsakes so let's talk about them!
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Hecate's is just the sigil we can find on and around characters allied with the Unseen (Nemesis) or witches (Medea, Circe). So I'm going to assume the sigil itself is called the Silver Wheel.
I had to research what Odysseus' is supposed to be (because I haven't ever read the Odyssey) but it turns out this is a type of game of chance called knucklebones? Interestingly it's something taught by Palamedes to his countrymen during the Trojan War, and Palamedes was the guy whose trickery forced Odysseus into the War and Od never forgave him (in most accounts, Od also killed him later). Oof.
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I've wanted to make keepsake-based art for these, but since I don't know what they're supposed to be I was forced to speculate. But I don't need to any longer!
Nem's keepsake is... a literal evil eye charm. I don't know what I expected really! But it has a thread on it, so maybe Nem wears it on her armor? Hung on the back of her cuirass perhaps, to ward off malice directed against her back as she leaves after dealing retribution?
The skull on Moros' keepsake looks adorably polite (just like the man). I like that the 'pin' part is similar to one of those tiny sewing pins. It has the color of the Fates on it; did they give this to him? From its appearance, it's likely the Pin was supposed to be worn to fasten his sash.
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Hermes' keepsake is a vial of mercury. Also known as quicksilver. 100/100 pun game and mythological reference here, Supergiant.
Artemis' keepsake is likely a reference to the sacred hind of Artemis, which is said to have golden antlers (likely represented by the golden accessories on the antlers).
Heracles' keepsake is from the name itself without a doubt a fang from the Nemean Lion, whose pelt he is also wearing on his person (my favorite iteration of this trope by the way).
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Medea's is almost definitely the Golden Fleece, but looked like that either due to her curses, vengeance, or she just decided to singe it out of spite, as the in-game name is blackened fleece. The Medea we meet in game is likely her after enacting vengeance against Jason (can we see what's left of him? Or his shade? Please?).
I did not expect Circe's to be an ADORABLE pink crystal piggie. I wonder if SGG will discuss Circe's tendency to curse people into animals, judging by the pink sheep pigs on her island... and the entire Odysseus situation, because hoo boy.
Icarus' keepsake is a slightly modified Daedalus hammer. It doesn't look that much different, maybe to signify his doubt of his own skills and his belief that he will never escape his father's legacy and shadow? He's not yet found the courage to come into his own.
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babyrdie · 2 months
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HADES SPOILERS
Edit: Hestia's appearance was revealed in Early Access! I confirmed (I saw in a gameplay and she appeared when I was playing)
Edit 2: Hermes, Hera , Scylla, Chronos, Eris, Heracles, Echo, Polyphemus, Charybdis, Hades, Circe, Icarus, Medea and Chaos!
Also Narcissus (he doesn't have an appearance revealed, though) Hecuba (??)
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bones4thecats · 6 months
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Dear Author-chan, can I request for ROR Hades, Poseidon, Thor and Heracles
It's how the husband fall in love and married to S/o who isekai in ROR. How it happen, is up to you author-chan
Type of Writing: Request Characters: Hades, Poseidon, Heracles, and Thor Name: {Character} During Ragnarok with their Isekai-ed! Reader Requester: Anonymous
A/N: I honestly loved writing this, just making the most fun dynamic and putting in an Isekai-ed! Reader with some of the most serious characters in the show was amazing! I hope you enjoy, lil bubble🫧!
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💀 When Hades first met you, you were being held by the rest of the Gods as a possible invader, since you appeared out of nowhere and they didn't know what your intentions were, especially when you said you knew where you were, despite being, well, alive-seeming
💀 Hades sat beside his brother, Poseidon, and looked down at you before smirking, thinking of how pathetic-minded his fellow Gods were, you were no threat to them, after all
💀 When the trial ended with you being let go, under the condition of being watched over by a God, Hades offered you to stay in one of his nearby guestrooms in his palace
💀 You knew what was going to happen to him in the future, and when you warned him about that when Ragnarok commenced, he urged Poseidon to not fight, to no avail
💀 Hades looked at you, and you knew that he wanted to fight to protect his brother's honor, but, he knew how much it would hurt you, despite being married for eons
💀 Watching you hold yourself back from warning him not to do anything, he shocked you by sitting down and not declaring himself the next fighter, instead, he commented how sad it was that his younger brother died without any real sendoff
💀 To which you and him stayed seated, and that night, you thanked him and hugged him super close
💀 While he was wondering how you could've possibly known what would happen in every round of Ragnarok, he just smirked, pushing the thought away for another time
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🔱 You and Poseidon did not start off on the best foot, since you just appeared out of nowhere and fell onto Adamas, prompting him to try attacking you, with you just running to hide behind Hades, who protected you from the oncoming attack
🔱 Poseidon would sit beside you as you both read, normally, it'd just be silent, but, on the rarest occasion, he would spark a small conversation, or just indulge your own, which started his long train-ride of pining for you
🔱 When Brunhilde declared Ragnarok, you had to hold your husband back from straight-up attacking her then, since she offended him by claiming they were all weak, they were Gods! The most perfect beings in the universe!
🔱 Your husband did not offer himself to be a fighter, rather, Zeus chose him to be one, because his attacks were so ruthless and cold-hearted, much like himself
🔱 You held his hand during the second round, that being Zeus vs. Adam, the father of the Cosmos against the Father of Humanity, it really was a fight for the ages
🔱 Much like with Hades, you warned Poseidon about what was going to happen if he were to fight. While normally, he would turn down your concerns and dismiss you by saying you were crazy to believe a human could kill him, a God, he listened to you
🔱 He saw how heartbroken you looked, and you did say Ragnarok would happen, and that Thor would win and wield Mjolnir without his gloves and that Adam would die standing, so, he couldn't help but look at you when Sasaki Kojiro, his opponent, stood before him with a determined look
🔱 But, forfeiting was not an option anymore, but, thankfully, Sasaki knocked him out and gave you a thumbs up. Thank goodness you spoke to him...
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💪 While training with Ares one day, he heard the sound of guards yelling while a scream pierced his and Ares' ears, causing them to pause and look as you ran towards them and away from the guards
💪 Ares ordered them to leave and return to their posts as Heracles spoke to you on how you got here, since you were a human and very much alive, and Valhalla was full of Gods, and the technical dead
💪 You and Heracles became very close friends after that experience, and eventually, after a long while, Heracles married you and began a life of things that most romance movies contain
💪 Zeus had chosen Heracles as a fighter in the fourth round of Ragnarok, but, as you knew what was to occur in the round, you opposed the decision when Heracles told you about it
💪 Heracles had immediately asked why you were opposing to his father's decision, to which you used his love for Humanity card, but he only used it against you with the solid question of how you knew he wanted Humanity alive and not dead like his fellow Gods
💪 Your husband knew you better than anyone, and he could detect when someone lies or was upset easily, so seeing your eyes swell over with hidden pain, he asked once again what was going on
" Heracles- please don't think of me as crazy for saying this. But, if you fight, you'll die. And I, I cannot strain the fact that I cannot afford to lose you... please, just please don't fight... "
💪 He looked down at you and smiled lightly, before asking the question you wanted to hear for years
" How about we head to Brunhilde and Göll? I'm sure Humanity needs their biggest supporters beside them. "
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🌩️ Thor was not amused when Loki flew into his home carrying you by the foot as you tried your best not to scream, he had threatened you that if you screamed, he'd break your leg, and let's be honest here, we want to not be able to walk for another reason
🌩️ He watched as you tried to free Loki's grip on your ankle and he just looked at you with a happy yet sadistic smile, making Thor's eyebrows furrow
🌩️ Eventually, he sent a bolt of lightning that went between Loki's hand and your ankle, making the God of Mischief drop you onto the ground as Thor grabbed you and carried you away
🌩️ It took a while, but Thor started to seek you out at your new home that was located just outside Asgard that he got for you as a place, since you said you didn't have a home, quite often
🌩️ Your friendship grew into romantic interest after a while, and he began to court you until he proposed a few months later in the same spot you both met
🌩️ While Ragnarok approach fast, Thor was training far more often, which caused your heart to ache a bit, knowing what was going to happen to the one he'd eventually find common ground with in the midst of battle
🌩️ Thor came inside the day before the first round of Ragnarok and sat down to eat diner with you, despite being a God which didn't need much food to survive, he found value and solace in eating a meal with you, it made your lives feel more domestic then ever
🌩️ He noticed how down you looked while one of the workers asked how you both thought Ragnarok would go, and he asked for a minute alone with you, which he got
" My S/O, why are you so down when Ragnarok is mentioned? " " It's just that- well... "
🌩️ After explaining everything to him, Thor was second-guessing what you were saying, but he took the words to heart, maybe the human was stronger than he thinks
🌩️ Nowadays, he and Lü Bu are practically best friends, while you are known as the reason the two strongest people in Valhalla are good friends
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telvess · 9 months
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RoR: How they seek attention (Poseidon, Loki, Heracles) 🔞
You, gals and guys, gave me such positive feedback under the previous post with this theme, so I decided to write part II
Poseidon
Poseidon with his I’m perfect, I don’t need anyone mindset is a bit tricky, so you have to be especially attentive, because if you miss the opportunity, you will have to wait until the next time.
If you spot a horny Poseidon, you still need to say or do something to trigger him. He requires it, because his pride holds him back.
You were minding your own business in the library, looking for an interesting book that you hadn’t read yet, when suddenly you felt a chill run down your spine. You froze for a split second, before going back to looking at the book covers as if nothing had happened. You smiled to yourself as you heard the sound of the floor creaking, and then a shadow fell on the bookcase in front of you. — Were you looking for me? — you asked, flipping through a random book. You weren’t interested in reading anymore. You just knew why Poseidon approached you, he basically pierced you right through with his blue eyes. There was a silent expectation hidden in this gesture. — I may have been… — he said, indifferently. Poseidon stood too close to you to ignore. But when you looked at him over your shoulder, he didn’t say a single word. — Do you find this book interesting? — you asked, showing him the cover. — No — you heard. You couldn’t help but giggle. You put the book down and picked up another one, but this time you cocked your head slightly so that your bare neck was in Poseidon’s sight. No reaction. — You know… when I show you my neck like that, it means I want you to kiss it — you advised, still feigning interest in the book. — Oh? — finally something changed in his voice, your provocation worked — Such shamelessness, unworthy of a goddess. You snorted. — Say whatever you want, but you have to admit: it’s a very good neck, even for a goddess. He would never deny that. After all, he was the one who chose you to be his wife. You’re the one who stands by his side, as an equal. You were perfect. To deny this is to deny himself. You felt his cool fingers on your neck, slowly heading towards a clasp that was holding your dress together. Once that was undone, Poseidon removed the straps from your shoulders and watched as they slipped and stopped on your bent hands. Your cheeks got warm at that bold act. Poseidon’s hands touched your waist - causing you to held your breath - as they moved around it, invading the space beneath the fabric of the dress and reached your navel. Your body trembled with excitement, your husband chuckled right next to your ear. Your eyes met. — It seems that every part of your body is perfect — he said, calmly, but you saw in his eyes that he was eager for much more. — Even my mouth? — you loved to provoke him. The corners of his lips twitched and his fingers tightened at your skin. — I can keep that occupied — he assured. Poseidon leaned towards you, his lips felt so soft - such a contrast to his personality - and it always surprised you. The book fell from your hands, and as your hands fell alongside your body, the dress ended up on the floor. You slowly tasted his lips, feeling the tension build in your naked body as Poseidon’s hands caressed every part of it.
Loki
Loki would announce very loud how bored he is, it doesn’t matter if you’re busy or it’s middle of the night. His priority is himself. And „boredom” is the secret code for „let’s do stuff”.
He always appears out of the blue and because he is the biggest trickster in the universe, it’s really hard to take his demands seriously.
How delightful was your bed; cozy and warm… You couldn’t keep your eyes open. There was darkness and sweet silence around you. Then… why were you awake again? You frowned and forced yourself to raise your head. Something tickled your forehead. — What the-! — you screamed, looking up. — Hello! — said Loki, loosely levitating above you. He presented you his naughty smile that you barely saw in the dark. His face was so close to yours that his hair were touching your forehead. — W-what are you doing here! It’s the middle of the night! — you shouted at him. Loki sighed and rolled his eyes, as if you were the unbearable one here. — I’m bored… — he mumbled. — Uh, you always are! — you sat up straight — Besides… did you try, I don’t know, sleep? — Booooriiiiing! — he yelled and laid down next to you. His face was better visible in the faint light coming through the curtains now. — I was thinking… — he laid eyes on your body hidden under the blanket — maybe you could entertain me? Something had awakened in your body. You always have to be careful with Loki, because every gesture or word could be a trap or at best have a hidden meaning, so now you looked at his pretty eyes with a dose of suspicion, but… well, what eyes could tell you? — How exactly? — you placed your hands on the blanket. — I’ll tell you. First take that… — he pointed at your pyjamas — … off. At first you didn’t even process his words, then you took it as a joke, but Loki’s expression didn’t lighten up, he didn’t burst into laughter, he remained serious, so you finally understood the situation you found yourself in. And… You snorted. — Very romantic — you said, covering your lips in a sudden bout of shyness. Loki raised his eyebrows, but his lips didn’t even twitch, which - for some damn reason - you found hot. — Oh, come on! We both know you want me. Enough of the stupid games already — he pouted.
You hoped it was too dark for him to notice your red cheeks. Truth to be told, he was right, but how did he find out? You never let your guard down around him. And what’s more important - now you two were alone, in bed, and you basically had him in the palm on your hand.
— Pff, you aren’t my type — you found yourself saying. Such an opportunity could never happen again and yet you decided to play hard to get… In the name of your stupid pride? Great move. Your body went limp once you realized what you had just done. — It’s not a problem — you heard, but didn’t react to Loki’s voice. You were focused too much on your self-flagellation — What’s your type, girl? — you jumped in fright when you heard Thor’s voice. How did he come into your ro-… oh. When you finally noticed Thor’s massive body next to yourself, you understood what Loki was doing. Such a wide smile on Thor’s usually indifferent face seemed strange to you, almost unnatural. You burst into laughter and hid under a blanket. — How about this one? — asked Loki with his new, much deeper and scarier voice — Girl? — chills ran down your spine as you recognized who your companion was imitating. You peeked out from under the covers and saw terrifying figure of Odin next to you, who was just casually curling his hair with his finger. — Eww! Go back to yourself! — you commanded. Fake Odin gave you one last hateful glare and disappeared in purple puff of smoke. — That’s better — you rolled onto your side and so did Loki. You smiled to him and without any warning or permission, you grabbed his head and pulled him towards you. And you finally had them, these damn lips of his that always could find a way to annoys you, pissed you off or make you laugh. They tasted good, or perhaps that was the taste of success you had just accomplished. Whichever it was, you wanted so much more: your lips kissed his with a passion, greedily, as if you had gone amok. But Loki wouldn’t be himself if he let the good times last long. He moved away. Compared to you who was eager and ready like never before, Loki seemed concerned at best. That cooled the fire in your chest a little. — Na-ah — Loki wagged his finger at you — Do as I say. First - take that off — he commanded. At this point your protruding nipples made you feel uncomfortable, the fabric of pyjamas almost caused pain - you wanted nothing more than to obey his order - but you found just enough strength for one last comeback: — Do it yourself.
Heracles
Poor Herc, he doesn’t know how to tell you this, he’s too pure, so he’s stuck in an awkward situation. Prepare yourself to feel his eyes on you many times throughout the day to the point that someone has to pat him on the head to make him come to his senses.
At the end of the day, when you two are alone, Heracles MAY be a bit more direct - after all, man is at his limits - especially if you’re oblivious.
You sat at dressing table, untangling your braid and slowly getting ready for bed. The sound of the doors opening brought a smile to your face - Heracles had returned from his duties. — Hi — you said, seeing him in the reflection of the mirror. He smiled back — How was your day? You watched as he took off his archery chest protector and began to unbuckle belt of shoulder’s guard. He sighed. — Long — he admitted. That was unusual for Heracles to show any sign of tiredness. For as long as you could remember, he has always been full of vigour: it didn’t matter at how deep end he was thrown, he still managed to finish a task anyway. — How so? I thought you couldn’t wait to take care of the training soldiers… — Well, I couldn’t concentrate — Heracles admitted. Only then did you realize that his eyes still hadn't met yours. You frowned; something clearly was wrong. — Why? What kept you occupied? You had very poor control over your emotions, so the worry in your voice was very clear. Heracles froze for a moment as if he contemplated whether telling you the truth was a good option. — Well… you — you heard. You blinked a few times, confused. — Me? — you repeated. How it could be you? You wanted to ask but then you noticed Heracles’ cheeks turning red and understanding came to you on its own. You giggled when your man turned his back to you in a fit of embarrassment. — Oh… — you hugged him from behind. He was such a big man, yet so pure in the heart. You raised your head to see how red his ears were and giggled again. — Very funny — you heard his growl. — How are you more afraid to ask me that than face Ares and all his troops together is beyond me! You forced him to turn around. — I wasn’t… afraid, I j-just… I, well… ugh! — Heracles — you interrupted his babbling and forced him to look into your eyes. You pointed to your lips — Kiss me. He was much taller than you, even if you stood on tiptoe, so he had to led towards you. And he fulfilled your wish. Your lips met in a short, shy kiss. It always amazed you how someone that strong could be so gentle. That was one of many reasons you adored him so much. You smiled at him and grabbed his hand. — Now come — you pulled him to the bed — Sit down. Heracles’ eyes followed your hands as you massaged his wide chest, your fingers were caressing his sculpted muscles when you sat on his lap. You heard his heavy breathing and felt bulge that was growing between his legs. The air in the room became warmer as you two started kissing. Slowly at first, but soon you started losing yourself in to the passion and heat of the moment. You found yourself moaning into Heracles’ mouth when he suddenly grabbed your buttock and squeezed, and you had to break the kiss to catch a breath. There was no longer any shyness in Heracles’ eyes.
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olympushit · 1 year
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ARES DOESN'T DESERVE THE HATE HE GETS. 10 REASONS WHY:
Apart from being the god of war, he was also the god of generalship, manliness and civil order, which means that he was the god responsible for the correct function of every ancient city in order of laws and politics.
As the god of manliness, he was considered to be the patron of a fine man that every man looked up to. He was a fighter, not only as a merit from being the god of war, but he always fought for his beliefs, just like at the Trojan War when he complained to Zeus about Athena's unfair action. Also, he was the best father to his children and always supported them and their mothers, just like Cycnus fighting with Heracles, or when Aeropos' mother died during childbirth and he made it possible for the baby to drink milk from his dead mother's body.
He was the only greek god that never raped a woman. All his sexual encounters were consensual and he always seemed to respect his lovers, because he kept his private life low key and none of them suffered or were subjected to tortures, unlike Zeus' or Poseidon's lovers did.
He was the god of dance. Legend has it that before he was taught how to fight, Priapos, his tutor, refused to teach him unless young Ares knew how to dance. Afterall, war is considered to be the ultimate dance a man could perform in ancient times. Also, he appeared to dance for his daughter's Armonia wedding with joy, leaving behind the animosity for her husband Cadmus. Finally, in the feasts of the Gods, it was said that Apollo played the lyre, while the Harites, Artemis, Hermes and Ares danced with great joy.
He was a forgiving god. Despite his enraged and bloodthirsty behavior, Ares knew how to forgive someone and appreciated what they were doing to gain his trust. After Cadmus slaughtered the Dragon, he was put 8 years under servitude to indulge Ares. Finally, Ares not only forgave Cadmus for his crime, but he also blessed his wedding with his own daughter Armonia. Cadmus, in order to gratify the god, built the city of Thebes and made Ares its patron god.
He wasn't a coward. Many greek myths refer to Ares' lack of courage to face danger. This is far from true. At the Trojan War, when he found out about Ascalaphus' death, he disobeyed Zeus' order with the risk of his immortal life in order to go to the battle amd avenge his son's death. He was later stopped by Zeus' thunderbolts. Also, when the Aloadai were about to take Olympus, he was the first god to interfere in battle in order to save Olympus. Afterall, one of his epithets was "Olympus' Protector".
He was sentimental. At the Trojan War he was seen greaving for his children's loss and always wanted to inervene for their safety. Also, he understood the rejection of his parents towards him and he was a lonely god that lacked love. But he found the love he was seeking to Aphrodite, and did not only lust her, but he loved her deeply. Together they had 8 children, and both of them were jealous about each other's affairs, because of Adonis and Eos. They also had an open relationship, because he never refrained Aphrodite from her nature, which was love and sex. Afterall love is not meant to be given to only one person.
He was the protector of women. When Hallirothios attempted to rape his daughter Alcippe, he flashed in the scene and brutally killed the rapist. From that moment on, a temple in Athens was built for Ares "Gynaikothoinas", which means the one feasted/worshipped by women.
He knew the feeling of loss. A war has two sides, the winners and the defeated. A war isn't always to be won, and everyone must learn what it is to lose. He lost many wars, but he also won many. That's why he is among the Olympians.
He was a god of justice. That is because he was referred to be "Themis' Ally", which means that he was a helper to the goddess of justice. One of his least famous daughters, Adrestia, was the goddess of balance, justice and retaliation. Also, "Areios Pagos" or aka "The hill of Ares" was named after him because he was the first man ever to be tried for substatial homicide, for slaughtering Alcippe' rapist.
DON'T TREAT MY BOY LIKE THAT! HE IS JUST ADORABLE!
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1968 [Chapter 9: Dionysus, God Of Ecstasy]
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Series Summary: Aemond is embroiled in a fierce battle to secure the Democratic Party nomination and defeat his archnemesis, Richard Nixon, in the presidential election. You are his wife of two years and wholeheartedly indoctrinated into the Targaryen political dynasty. But you have an archnemesis of your own: Aemond’s chronically delinquent brother Aegon.
Series Warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, character deaths, New Jersey, age-gap relationships, drinking, smoking, drugs, pregnancy and childbirth, kids with weird Greek names, historical topics including war and discrimination, math.
Word Count: 5.9k
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The October surprise is a great American tradition. As the phases of the moon revolve towards Election Day, the candidates and their factions seek to ruin each other. Lies are told, truths are exposed, Tyche smiles and Achlys brews misery, poison, the fog of death that grows over men like ivy. The stars align. The wolves snap their jaws.
In 1844, an abolitionist newspaper falsely accused James K. Polk of branding his slaves like cattle. In 1880, a letter supposedly authored by James Garfield—in actuality, forged by a New York journalist—welcomed Chinese immigrants in an era when they were being lynched by xenophobic mobs in Los Angeles and San Francisco. In 1920, a rumor emerged that Warren Harding had Black ancestry, an allegation his campaign fervently denied to keep the support of the Southern states. In 1940, FDR’s press secretary assaulted a police officer outside of Madison Square Garden. In 1964, one of LBJ’s top aids was arrested for having gay sex at the Washington D.C. YMCA.
Now, in 1968, Senator Aemond Targaryen of New Jersey is realizing that he will not be the beneficiary of the October surprise he’s dreamed of: his wife’s redemptive pregnancy, a blossoming first family. There is a civil rights protest that turns into a riot in Milwaukee; this helps Nixon, the candidate of law and order. For every fire lit and window shattered, he sees a bump in the polls from businessowners and suburbanites who fear anarchy. Breaking news of the My Lai massacre—committed back in March but only now brought to light—airs on NBC, horrifying the American public and bolstering support for Aemond, the man who has vowed to begin ending the war as soon as he’s sworn into office. The two contestants are deadlocked. Election Day could be a photo finish.
Nixon is in Texas. Wallace is in Arkansas. In Florida, Aemond visits the Kennedy Space Center and pledges to fulfill JFK’s promise to put a man on the moon by 1970. He makes a speech at the Mary McLeod Bethune Home commending her work as an educator, philanthropist, and humanitarian. He greets soldiers at the Naval Air Station in Pensacola. He feeds chickens to the alligators at the Saint Augustine Alligator Farm Zoological Park.
But it is not the senator the crowds cheer loudest for. It is his wife, his future first lady, here in her home state where she staunched her husband’s hemorrhaging blood and appeared before his well-wishers still marked with crimson handprints. In Tarpon Springs, she and Aemond attend mass at the Saint Nicholas Greek Orthodox Cathedral and pray at an altar made of white marble from Athens. Then they stand on the docks as flashbulbs strobe all around them, watching sponge divers reappear from the depths, breaking through the bubbling sapphire water like Heracles ascending to Mount Olympus.
~~~~~~~~~~
You kick off your high heels, tear the pins and clips out of your hair, and flop down onto the king-sized bed in your suite at the Breakers Hotel. It’s the same place Aemond was almost assassinated five months ago. He has returned in triumph, in defiance. He cannot be killed. It is God’s will.
You are alone for these precious fleeting moments. Aemond is in Otto’s suite discussing the itinerary for tomorrow: confirmations, cancellations, reshufflings. You pick up the pink phone from the nightstand on Aemond’s side of the bed and dial the number for the main house at Asteria. It’s 9 p.m. here as well as there. Through the window you can see inky darkness and the kaleidoscopic glow of the lights of Palm Beach. The Zenith radio out in the kitchenette is playing Satisfaction by the Rolling Stones. No intercession from Eudoxia is necessary this time; Aegon answers on the second ring.
“Yeah?” he says, slow and lazy like he’s been smoking something other than Lucky Strikes.
“Hey.” And then after a pause, twirling the phone cord around your fingers as you stare up at the ceiling: “It’s me.”
“Oh, I know. Should I take off my pants, or…?” He’s only half-joking.
You smile. “That was stupid. Someone could have bugged the phone.”
“You think Nixon’s guys are wiretapping us? Give me a break. They’re goddamn buffoons. They’re too busy telling cops to beat hippies to death.” You hear him taking a drag off his joint, envision him sprawled across his futon and enshrouded in smoke. “Everything okay down there in the swamp?”
You shrug, even though Aegon can’t see you. “It’s fine.”
“Just fine?”
“My parents were there when we stopped in Tarpon Springs. They kept telling everyone how proud they are of me, and I just felt so…dishonest.”
“Of course they’re proud. If Aemond wins, the war ends and more civil rights bills get passed and this hell we’ve all been living in since 1963 goes away.”
“I miss you,” you confess.
“You’ll be back soon to enjoy me in all my professional loser glory.” He’s right: Aemond’s entourage will spend Halloween at Asteria. You’ll take the children trick-or-treating around Long Beach Island—with journalists in tow, of course—and then host a party with plentiful champagne and Greek hors d’oeuvres, one last reprieve before the momentous slog towards Election Day on November 5th, a reward for the campaign staffers and reporters who have served Aemond so well. “What are you going to dress up as?”
“Someone happy,” you say, and Aegon chuckles, low and sardonic. “Actually, nothing. Aemond and Otto have decided that it would be undignified for the future president and first lady to be photographed in costumes, so I will be wearing something festive yet not at all fun.”
“Aemond has always been somewhat confused by the concept of fun.”
“What are you going to be for Halloween?”
You can hear the grin in his voice as he exhales smoke. “A cowboy.”
“A cowboy,” you repeat, giggling. “You aren’t serious.”
“Extremely serious. I protect the cows, I comfort the cows, I breed the cows…”
“You are mentally ill. You belong in an asylum.”
“I ride the cows…”
“Cowboys do not ride cows.”
“Maybe this one does.”
“I thought you liked being ridden.”
Aegon groans with what sounds like genuine discomfort. “Don’t tease me. You know I’m celibate at the moment.”
“Miraculous. Astonishing. The Greek Orthodox Church should canonize you. What have you been doing with all of your newfound free time?”
“Taking the kids out sailing, hiding from Doxie, trying not to step on the Alopekis…and playing Battleship with Cosmo. He has a very loose understanding of the rules.”
“He does. I remember.”
“He keeps asking when you’ll be back.”
“Really?” you ask hopefully.
“Yeah, it’s cute. And he calls you Io because he heard me do it.”
“Not an appropriate myth for children, I think.”
“Cosmo’s what, seven years old?”
“Five.”
“Close enough. I think I knew about death and torment and Zeus being a slut by then.”
“And you have no resulting defects whatsoever.” You roll over onto your belly and slide open the drawer of the nightstand. Instead of the card Aegon gave you at Mount Sinai—you’ve forgotten that you’re on Aemond’s side of the bed—you find something bizarre, unexpected, just barely able to fit. “Oh my God, there’s a…there’s a Ouija board in the nightstand!”
Aegon laughs incredulously. “There’s a what?!”
“A Ouija board!” You sit upright and shimmy it out, holding the phone to your ear with one shoulder. The small wooden planchette slides off the board and clatters against the bottom of the drawer. “Why the hell would Aemond have this…?”
“He’s trying to summon the ghost of JFK to stab Nixon.”
“Oh wow, it’s heavy.” You skim your fingertips over the black numbers and letters etched into the wooden board. There’s something ominous about the Good Bye written across the bottom. You can’t beckon the dead into the land of the living without reminding them that they aren’t welcome to stay.
“Aemond is such a freak. Is it a Parker Brothers one, like for kids…?”
“No, I think it’s custom made. It feels substantial, expensive. Hold on, there’s something engraved on the back.” You flip over the Ouija board so you can see what your hands have already felt. The inscription reads in onyx cursive letters: No ghosts can harm you. The stars were never better than the day you were born. With love through all the ages, Alys.
“What’s it say?” Aegon asks from his basement at Asteria.
You’re staring down at the Ouija board, mystified. “Who’s Alys?”
Instead of an answer, Aegon gives you a deep sigh. “Oh. Yeah, she would give him something like that. Fucking creepy witch bullshit.”
“Aegon, who’s Alys?” She’s his mistress. She has to be. It fills your skull like flashbulbs, like lightning: Aemond climbing on top of another woman, conquering her, owning her, binding her up in his mythology like a spider building a web. And what you feel when the shock begins to dissolve isn’t envy or pain or betrayal but—strangely, paradoxically—hope. “She’s his girl, right?”
“Please don’t be mad at me for not telling you,” Aegon says. “There wasn’t a good time. When I hated you I didn’t care if he was fucking around, and then after what happened in New York I didn’t want to hurt you, I didn’t know how you’d take it. It’s not your fault, there’s nothing wrong with you. She was here first. He’d have kept Alys around if he married Aphrodite herself.”
“I’m not mad.” You’re distracted, that’s what you are; you’re plotting. “Where is she?”
“She lives in Washington state. I’m not sure exactly where, I think Aemond moves her a lot. He doesn’t want anyone to see him around and start noticing a pattern. Neighbors, shopkeepers, cops, whoever.”
“Washington.” Just like when Ari died. Just like when Aemond didn’t come back. “Who knows about her?”
“Just the family. Fosco and Mimi found out because when they married in, the fights were still happening. Otto and Viserys demanding he give Alys up, Aemond refusing. It’s the only thing he ever did wrong, the only line he drew. He said he needed her. She could never be his first lady, but she could be something else.”
“His mistress.”
“Yeah,” Aegon says reluctantly. “Are you…are you okay?”
“I’m okay. What’s wrong with Alys?”
“What?”
“Why couldn’t Aemond marry her?”
“I mean, she’s the type of psycho who gives people Ouija boards, first of all,” Aegon says. “And she’s…she’s not educated. Her family’s trash. She’s older than Aemond. Hell, she’s older than me. She would be an unmitigated disaster on the campaign trail. She unnerves people. But Aemond, he…”
“He loves her,” you whisper, reading the engraving on the back of the board again. “And she loves him.”
“I guess. Whatever love means to them.”
A thought occurs to you, the first one to bring you pain like a needle piercing flesh. “Does she have children?”
Again, Aegon sounds reticent to disclose this. “A boy. Aemond’s the father.”
“How old?”
“I don’t know, I think he’s around ten now.”
And that’s Aemond’s true heir. Not Ari, not any others he would have with me. That place in his heart is taken. He couldn’t mourn the loss of our son because he already has one with the woman he loves.
Out in the living room of the suite, you hear the front door open. There are footsteps, Aemond’s polished black leather shoes.
Aegon is asking: “Are you sure you’re okay? Hello? Babe? Hello? Are you still there?”
“I’m fine. I gotta go.”
“Wait, no, not yet—!”
“Bye.” You hang up the phone and wait for Aemond to discover you. You’re still clutching the Ouija board. You’re perched on the edge of the bed like something ready to pounce, to kill.
Aemond opens the bedroom door, navy blue suit, blonde hair short and slicked back, his eyepatch covering his empty left socket. He’s begun wearing his eyepatch in public more often—not for every appearance, but for some of them—and whoever finally convinced him to concede this battle wasn’t you. His right eye goes to you and then to the Ouija board in your hands. He doesn’t speak or move to take the board, only studies you warily.
“I know about her,” you tell him.
Still, Aemond says nothing.
“Alys,” you press. “She’s your mistress. You’re in love with her.”
“I did not intend to hurt you.” His words are flat, steely.
“I’m not hurt, Aemond.”
“You shouldn’t have ever known about this. I apologize for not being more discrete. It was a lapse in judgment.” But what he regrets most, you think, is that his secret is less contained, more imperiled.
“What we have is a political arrangement,” you say. The desperation quivers in your voice. “You don’t love me, you never have, and now we can be open about it. You need me to win the White House, but that’s all. Your true companion is elsewhere. I want the same thing.”
He steps closer, eye narrowing, iris glinting coldly, puzzled like he couldn’t have understood you correctly. “What?”
“I want to be permitted to have my own happiness outside of this imitation of a marriage.”
“No,” Aemond says instantly.
Your stomach sinks, dark iron disappointment. “But…but…why?”
“Because I don’t trust you to not get caught. Because I need to be sure that I am the father of the children you’ll give birth to. And because as my wife you are mine, and mine alone.”
Tears brim in your eyes; embers burn in your throat. “You’re asking for my life. My whole life, all of it, everything I’ll ever experience, everything I’ll ever feel. I get one chance on this planet and you’re stealing it away from me.”
“Yes,” Aemond agrees simply.
“So where’s my consolation?” you demand. “You get Alys, so where’s mine?”
“What do you want?”
You don’t reply, but you glare at your husband with eternal rage like Hera’s, with fatal vitriol like Medusa’s.
“You think I don’t know about that little card you keep in your nightstand?” Aemond is furious, betrayed. “You used to hate him.”
“I was wrong.”
“Because he was at Mount Sinai and I wasn’t? Three days undid everything we’ve ever been to each other? Our oaths, our ambitions?!”
“No,” you say, tears slipping down the contours of your cheeks. “Because he’s real. He doesn’t try to manipulate people into loving him, he doesn’t pretend to be someone he’s not, when he’s cruel it’s because he means it and when he’s kind that’s genuine too. And he wants to know me, who I really am. Not the woman I have to act like to get you elected. Not who you’re trying to turn me into—”
Aemond has crossed the room, grabbed the front of your teal Chanel dress, and yanked you to your feet. The Ouija board jolts out of your hands and lands on the carpet unharmed. Your long hair is in disarray, your eyes wide and fearful. You try to push Aemond away, but he ignores you. You can’t sway him. You’ve never been able to. “Aegon has nothing to his name except what this family gives him,” Aemond snarls, hushed, hateful. His venom is not for his brother but for you. You have upended the natural order of things. You have dared to deny Zeus what he has been divinely granted dominion over. “You would jeopardize his wellbeing, his access to his children? You would ruin yourself? You would doom this nation? If you cost me the election, every drop of blood spilled is on your hands, every body bag flown home from Vietnam, every martyr killed by injustice here. What you ask for is worse than being a traitor and a whore. It is sacrilege.”
“Let go of me—”
“And there’s one more thing.” Aemond pulls you closer so he knows you’re paying attention. You’re sobbing now, trembling, choking on his cologne, shrinking away from his furnace-heat wrath. “Aegon isn’t capable of love. Not the kind you’re imagining. He gets infatuated, and he uses people, and then he moves on. You think he never charmed Mimi, never made her feel cherished by him? And look how she ended up. I’m trying to carve your name into legend beside mine. Aegon will take you to your grave.”
Your husband shoves you away, storms out of the bedroom, slams the door so hard the walls quake.
~~~~~~~~~~
Parading down streets like the victors of a fallen city, jack-o-lanterns keeping watch with their laceration grins of firelight. Hecate is the goddess of witchcraft, Hades rules the Underworld, Selene is the half-moon peeking through clouds in an overcast sky. The stars elude you.
The children—ghosts, pirates, princesses, witches—dash from doorstep to doorstep like soldiers in Vietnam search tunnels. They smile and pose in their outfits when the journalists prompt them, beaming and waving, showing off their Dots, Tootsie Pops, Sugar Daddies, Smarties, Razzles, and candy cigarettes before depositing them in the plastic orange pumpkins that swing from their wrists. Only Cosmo, dressed as Teddy Roosevelt with lensless glasses and a stuffed lion thrown over one shoulder, stays with the adults. He is the last one to each house, approaching the doorway reticently like it might swallow him up, inspiring fond chuckles and encouragement from the reporters. He clutches your hand and hides behind you when towering monsters lumber by: King Kong, Frankenstein, vampires with fake blood spilling from their mouths.
Aemond wears a black suit with orange accents: tie, pocket square, socks. You glimmer in a black dress dotted with white stars, clicking down the sidewalk in boots that run to your knees, silver eyeshadow, heavy liner. You almost look your own age. There are large star-shaped barrettes in your pinned-up hair, bent glinting metal. As the reporters snap photos of you and Cosmo walking together, they shout: “You’ll be such a great mother one day, Mrs. Targaryen!”
Fosco is Ettore Boiardi—better known as Chef Boyardee—an Italian immigrant who came through Ellis Island in 1914 with a dream of opening a spaghetti business. Helaena, Alicent, and Ludwika are, respectively, Alice, Wendy, and Cinderella; Ludwika clops along resentfully in her puffy sleeves and too-small clear stilettos. Criston is Peter Pan. Aegon wears a white button-up shirt, cow print vest, ripped jeans, brown leather boots, a cowboy hat that’s too big for him, and a green bandana knotted around his throat. He stays close to you and Cosmo because he can, here where the journalists expect to see him being a devoted father and active participant in the family business of mending a tattered America. Teenagers are fleeing their families to join hippie communes and draftees in Vietnam are getting their limbs blown off and junkies are shooting up on the streets of New York and Chicago and Los Angeles, but here we see a happy family, a perfect family, a holy trinity that thanks the devotees who offer them tribute. Otto, who neglected to don a disguise, glares at you murderously. You have failed to give Aemond a living child. You have dared to want things for yourself.
Back at Asteria in the main house, the children empty their plastic pumpkins on the living room floor and sort through their saccharine treasures, making trades and bargains: “I’ll do your math homework if you give me those Swedish Fish,” “I’ll let you ride my bike for a week if I can have your Mallo Cup.” While the other adults ply themselves with champagne and chain smoke away the stress of the campaign trail, Aegon gets his Caribbean blue Gibson guitar and sits on the couch playing I’m A Believer by The Monkees. The kids clap and sing along between intense confectionary negotiations. Cosmo wants to share his candy cigarettes with you; you pretend to smoke together as sugar melts on your tongue.
Now the children have been sent to bed—mollified with the promise of homemade apple pies tomorrow, another occasion to be documented by swarms of clamoring journalists—and the house becomes a haze of smoke and indistinct conversation and music from the record player. Platters of appetizers have appeared on the dining room table: pita, tzatziki, hummus, melitzanosalata, olives, horiatiki, mini spanakopitas, baklava. Women are chattering about the painstaking labor they put into costumes and men are scheming to deliver death blows to Nixon, setbacks in Vietnam, Klan meetings in Mississippi. Aemond is knocking back Old Fashioneds with Otto and Sargent Shriver. Fosco is dancing in the living room with drunk journalists. Eudoxia is muttering in Greek as she aggressively paws crumbs off of couches and tabletops. Thick red candles flicker until wax melts into a pool of blood at the base.
Through the veil of cigarette smoke and the rumbling bass of Season Of The Witch, Aegon finds you when no one is looking, and you know it’s him without having to turn around. His hand is the only one that doesn’t feel heavy when it skims around your waist. He whispers, soft grinning lips to your ear, rum and dire temptation like Orpheus looking back at Eurydice: “Let’s do some witchcraft.”
You know where Aemond keeps the Ouija board. You take it out of the top drawer of his nightstand in your bedroom with blue walls and portraits of myths in captive frames. Then you descend with Aegon into the basement, down like Persephone when summer ends, down like women crumbling under Zeus’s weight. You remember to lock the door behind you. You’re not high—you can’t smoke grass in a house full of guests who could smell it and take it upon themselves to investigate—but you feel like you are, that lightness that makes everything more bearable, the surreal tilt to the universe, awake but dreaming, truth cloaked in mirages.
Aegon has stolen three red candles from upstairs. He hands one to you, keeps a second for himself, and places the third on his end table beside a myriad of dirty cups. You glimpse at his ashtray and a folded corner of the receipt that’s still tucked beneath it, and you think: I have my card, Aegon has his receipt, Aemond has his Ouija board. I wonder what Alys likes to keep close when she sleeps. Then Aegon clicks off the lamp so the only light is from the flickering candles.
He tosses away his cowboy boots, hat, vest and is down on the green shag carpet with you, his hair messy, his white shirt half-unbuttoned. He’s taking sips of Captain Morgan straight from the glass bottle. He’s lighting a Lucky Strike with the wick of his candle and then giving it to you to puff on as he places the planchette on the board. “Wait, how do we start?”
You exhale smoke, setting your candle down on the carpet and then tugging off your own boots with some difficulty. “We have to say hello.”
“Okay.” Aegon places his fingertips on one side of the heart-shaped planchette and you rest yours lightly on the other. He begins doubtfully: “Hello…?”
“Is there anyone who would like to send us a message from the other side this evening?”
“You’ve done this before,” Aegon accuses.
“I have. In college.”
“With a guy?”
You chuckle, taking a drag as the cigarette smolders between your fingers. “No, with my friends. It’s not really a date activity.”
“I think it’s very romantic. Candles, darkness, danger, who’s gonna protect you when the ghosts start throwing things around…”
“You’d fight a ghost for me?”
“Depends on the ghost. FDR? You got it. I can take a guy in a wheelchair. Teddy? No ma’am. You’re on your own.”
“Which ghost should we summon?”
Aegon ponders this for a moment. “John F. Kennedy, are you in this basement with us right now?”
“That is wrong, that is so wrong.”
“Then why are you smiling?” Aegon says. “JFK, how do you feel about Johnson fucking up your legacy?”
“That is not the kind of question you’re supposed to ask. We’re not on 60 Minutes.”
“JFK, do you haunt the White House?” Aegon drags the planchette to the Yes on the board. “Oh no, I’m scared.”
“You are a cheater, this is a fraudulent Ouija board session.” You put your cigarette out in the ashtray and then take a swig from Aegon’s rum bottle. “JFK, are we gonna make it to the moon before 1970?”
Aegon pulls the planchette to the No. “Damn, Io, bad news. Guess the Russians win the Space Race and then eradicate capitalism across the globe. No more beach houses. No more Mr. Mistys.”
“Give me the planchette, you’re abusing your power.”
“No,” Aegon says, snickering as you try to wrestle it away from him. In his other hand he’s clutching his candle; scarlet beads of wax like blooddrops pepper your skin as you struggle, tiny infernos that burn exquisitely. Red like paint splatter appears on Aegon’s shirt. You grab the green bandana around his throat, but instead of holding him back you’re drawing him closer. The Ouija board and all the world’s ghosts are momentarily forgotten.
“You’re dripping wax on me—”
“Good, I want to get it all over you, then I want to peel it off and rip out your leg hair.”
You’re laughing hysterically as you pretend to try to shove him away. “I’m freshly shaved, you idiot.”
“Everywhere?” Aegon asks, intrigued.
You smirk playfully. “Almost.”
“Okay, let’s get you cleaned up.” Aegon sets his candle down on the carpet and strips away tacky dots of red wax: one from your forearm down by your wrist, another from your neck just below one of your silver hoop earrings, wax from your ankles and your calves and right above your knees. His fingertips are calloused from his guitar, from the ropes of his sailboat. They scratch roughly over you, chipping away who you’re supposed to be.
Then Aegon stops. You follow his gaze down. There is a smudge of wax on the inside of your thigh, extending beneath the hem of your dress, glittering black and white fabric that hides what is forbidden to him. Aegon’s eyes are on you, that troubled opaque blue, drunk and desperate and wild and afraid. With your fingers still hooked beneath his bandana, you say to him like a dare: “Now you’re going to stop?”
His palm skates up the smoothness of your thigh, and as he unpeels that last stain of red wax his other hand cradles your jaw and his lips touch yours, gently at first and then with the ravenousness of someone who’s been dying of thirst for centuries, starving since birth. You’re opening your legs wider for him, and his fingers do not stop at your thigh but climb higher until they are whisking your black lace panties away, exploring your folds and your wetness as his tongue darts between your lips, tasting something he’s been craving forever but only now stumbled into after four decades of darkness, trapped in you like Narcissus at his pool.
You are unknotting his green bandana and letting it fall to the shag carpet. You are unbuttoning the rest of his shirt so you can feel his chest, soft and warm and yielding, safe, real. The candlelight is flickering, the thumping bass of a song you can’t decipher pulsing through the floor above. Now beneath your dress Aegon’s fingers are pressing a place that makes your breath catch in your throat, makes you dizzy with need for him. He looks at you and you nod, and he reads in your face what you wanted to say months ago in this same basement: Don’t stop. Come closer.
Aegon lifts your dress over your head, nips at your throat as he unclasps your bra, and you are suddenly aware of how the cool firelit air is touching every part of you, how you are bare for him in a way you’ve never been before. You catch Aegon’s face in your hand before he can see the scar that runs down the length of your belly and say, your voice quiet and fragile: “Don’t look at me.”
Pain flashes in his eyes, furrows across his brow. “Stop,” he murmurs, kissing your forehead as you cling to him. Then he begins moving lower and you fall back onto the carpet, no blood on Aegon’s hands this time, only your sweat and lust for him, only crystalline evidence of a betrayal you’ve long ago already committed in your mind.
You’re combing your fingers through his hair and gasping as Aegon’s lips ghost down your scar, not something ruinous or shameful but a part of you, the beginning of your story together, the origin of your mythology. Then his mouth is on you—yearning, aching wetness—and you thought you knew what this felt like but it’s more powerful now, more urgent, and Aegon is glancing up to watch your face, to study you, to change what he’s doing as he follows your clues. And then there is a pang you think is too sharp to be pleasure, too close to helplessness, something that leaves you panting and shaking.
You jolt upright. “Wait…”
Aegon props himself up on his elbows. His full lips glisten with you. “What? What’d I do wrong?”
“No, it’s not you, it’s just…it’s like…” You can’t describe it. “It’s too…um…too intense or something. It’s like I couldn’t breathe.”
Aegon stares at you, his eyebrows low. After a long pause he says: “Babe, you’ve come before, right?”
I’ve what? “Yeah, of course, obviously. I mean…I think so?”
He’s stunned. He’s in disbelief. Then a grin splits across his face. “Lie back down.”
You’re nervous, but you trust him. If this costs you your life, you’ll pay it. He pushes your thighs farther apart and his tongue stays in one spot—where you touched yourself in the bathtub in Seattle, where you wanted him when he slipped his fingers into you for the first time—and suddenly the uneasy feeling is something raging and irresistible like a riptide in the Atlantic, something better than anything you knew existed, and you keep thinking it’s happened but it hasn’t yet, as you cover your face with your hands to smother your moans, as your hips roll and Aegon’s arms curl under your thighs to keep you in place so he can make you finish. It’s a release that is otherworldly, celestial, terrifying, divine. It’s something that rips the curtain between mortals and paradise.
It’s always like this for men? That’s what Aemond has been getting from me, that’s what I’ve been denied?
As you lie gasping on the carpet Aegon returns, smiling, kissing you, running his fingers through locks of hair that have escaped from your pins. “Not bad, right little Io?” he purrs, smelling like rum and minerals, earth and poison. Now he’s taking off his jeans, but before he can position himself between your legs you have pushed him onto his back and straddled him, pinning his wrists to the floor, watching the amazement ripple across his flushed face, the desire, the need. You tease Aegon, leaning in to nibble at his ear and bite gingerly at his throat, never harming him, never claiming him, grinding your hips against his and listening as his breathing turns quick and rough. Then you slip him inside you, this man you once hated, this man who was a stranger and then a curse and now a spell.
Aegon wants to be closer to you. He sits up as you ride him, hands on your face, in your hair, kissing you, inhaling you, shuddering, trying not to cry out as footsteps and laughter and thunderous basslines bleed through the ceiling. You know he’s been high on so many things—things that corrupt, things that kill—and you hope you can compare, this brief clean magic.
He can’t last; he finishes with a moan like he’s in agony, and as the motion of your hips slows, you take his jaw in your grasp and gaze down at him. “Good boy,” you say with a grin. Aegon laughs, exhausted, drenched in sweat, his hair sticking to his forehead. He embraces you so tightly you can feel the pounding of his heart, racing muscle beneath bones and skin.
He’s murmuring through your disheveled hair: “I gotta see you again, when can I see you again?”
You don’t know what to say. You don’t have an answer. You unravel yourself from Aegon and dress yourself in the red candlelight: panties, bra, dress, boots, all things that Aemond chose for you, all things he bought with his family’s money, all things he owns. Aegon has nothing to his name and neither do you. You are—like Fosco once said—pieces of the same machine.
“Where are you going?” Aegon asks, like he’s afraid of the answer.
“I have to go back upstairs to the party before someone realizes I’m missing.”
“Are you serious?”
“I am.” You kneel on the carpet to kiss him one last time, your palm on his cheek, his fingers clutching at your dress as he begs you not to leave. “I have to, I have to,” you whisper, and then you do.
You grab the Ouija board and planchette off the green shag carpet, hug them to your chest, and hurry up the steps. The first floor of the Asteria house is a maze of cigarette smoke and clinking glasses, guests who are dancing and cackling and drunk. From the record player strums Johnny Cash’s Ring Of Fire. You slip unnoticed to the staircase.
In the blue-walled bedroom you share with Aemond, you carefully place the Ouija board and planchette in the top drawer of his nightstand exactly as you found them. Then you go to your vanity to try to fix your hair. As you’re rearranging clips and pinning loose strands back into place, the door opens. Aemond is there, feeling beloved and invincible, looking for you. He crosses the room and closes his long fingers around your wrist. He wants you: under him, making children for him, possessed by him.
“Come to bed,” Aemond says.
“Not right now. I’m busy.”
“You aren’t busy anymore.”
“I told you no.”
He wrenches you from your chair. Instead of surrendering, you strike out, hitting him in the chest. You don’t harm him, you’re not strong enough, but genuine shock leaps into his scarred face.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” you hiss. You can’t let Aemond undress you; he will find the evidence of your treason, he will see it, feel it, taste it. But that’s not the only reason you stop him. “Every goddamn night I give you what you want, and exactly how you want it. Tonight I’m saying no. You want to take me? You’ll have to do it properly. I’m not going to give you the illusion of consent. You remember what Zeus did to all those women, right? Go ahead. Act like the god you think you are. But I’m going to fight you. And if those people downstairs hear me screaming, you can explain to them why.”
Aemond stares at you in the silvery light of the half-moon. You glare boldly back. At last he leaves and descends the staircase into an underworld of churning smoke, returning to the party to sip his Old Fashioneds and decide what to do with you.
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deathmetalunicorn1 · 3 months
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Hi! I was wondering if you can do a request of the Gods (Poseidon, Thor, Loki, Apollo, Odin, Hades, Heracles and Buddha) with a Reader from Fairy Tail. Where the Reader takes them to meet the guild (Like meeting the family for the first time). How would they react to the guild, taking a quick liking to them. Where they throw their famous parties to welcoming them into the family. Even challenging them to a fight.
Don't have to do this if you don't want to!
-You smiled up at (Love), holding his hand as he gave you a small glance, a small grin appearing on his own lips, seeing you looking so happy.
-You were happy because (Love) had finally agreed to come and meet your family, the members of your guild, Fairy Tail! You had been asking him for a while now, as you had been dating for over a year now, despite not being able to see each other often, mainly because he was an actual god!!
-He would always make time for you, his most precious person, after you had found him last year, after he had an accident that made him fall from Valhalla, and you hauled his ass to your place and nursed him back to health.
-During his healing process he couldn’t help falling for you, you were so warm and kind, but also witty and smart, and you were so loyal, telling him all about your friends, your family; he knew that you were a good person.
-Those in the guild, at least the majority of them, had been teasing you, when you told them that you finally had a boyfriend, but when you didn’t have any photos and (Love) couldn’t visit often, many took to teasing that he was just in your head, something you didn’t take kindly to.
-There were a few, like Erza, who believed you, telling you that she wanted to meet (Love) when he could visit the guild, as she wanted to make sure that you were being taken care of- something you did thank her for, she was always such a sweet person.
-So when (Love) asked to meet those you’re always talking about, you cheered, immediately leaping into his arms, hugging him tightly, which made him chuckle softly, seeing you so elated.
-Now standing before the door to Fairy Tail, he inhaled slightly, hearing the loud shouting on the other side, but you didn’t seem bothered, this was normal as you opened the door, seeing most of the guild engaged in a giant brawl.
-However, when they door opened, revealing you and an unknown man and instantly everything froze, everyone staring with wide blinking eyes, stunned.
-You beamed brightly, “Everyone- this is (Love)!” Erza was the first one over, not surprisingly, and shook (Love’s) hand, being very welcoming as she greeted him, welcoming him to the guild hall!
-(Love) could easily pick out certain members, based on your descriptions of them, like Natsu, Gray, Erza, Gajeel, Makarov, Laxus, Elfman, Juvia, Mirajane, Lucy, and Wendy, greeting them when they came to meet him.
-Makarov was very welcoming, but did have that talk, as all members are his children, and he’s very protective of his children, which was amusing to (Love), seeing this old man threatening him to keep you safe, but he quickly seemed to realize, sensing his power, that this old man was way stronger than he looked and wasn’t to be underestimated.
-Natsu got fired up, hearing that (Love) was a warrior, wanting to fight, which caused others to shout the same as Erza came in, holding a strawberry cake, “Here (Love)- I got this so we could all celebrate together!”
-Natsu and Gray, who began to roughhouse, knocked into Erza, making her drop the cake, sending it to the floor and instantly everything froze.
-You grabbed (Love’s) hand, pulling him back behind the serving counter with Wendy and Lucy, as Erza went into rage mode, grabbing the two by their heads and throwing them, starting another brawl.
-(Love) couldn’t help but give you a small grin, leaning his cheek on his fist, “They’re all exactly how you described them.” You just grinned warmly over at him, leaning into him, “Thank you for coming with my today (Love), I’m so glad everyone got to meet you!”
-He pecked your forehead, making you beam brightly before he did express his curiosity on fighting some of your guild mates, curious on how strong they actually were.
-Many were stunned to learn that (Love) was an actual god, coming down from Valhalla to spend time with you on his rare days off, but that just got everyone fired up even more to fight him, to really test his strength.
-He wasn’t bothered that he was in an unfair fight, many of the members facing off against him, after he said he could handle all of them at once, which did cause some arguments. When they all charged, many were stunned by his strength and his skills- he was definitely a seasoned warrior as he easily beat most of them with ease. He even made it look easy fighting against the strongest members of Fairy Tail!! When he was announced as the victor, you couldn’t help but cheer, rushing into his arms. He smiled down at you, pressing a kiss to your temple, and despite just getting their asses kicked, your family all couldn’t help but smile, seeing how happy you looked. They all approved of your relationship with him, he was a good person.
            -Hercules, Loki, Buddha, and Apollo
-He quickly proved that he was a strong warrior, between his strength and his skills, by easily taking on the strongest members of Fairy Tail, all of them against him, while you were sitting by Makarov. You knew that he was showing off, taking all of them on at once, but you couldn’t help but smile and cheer for him, something some of your guildmates yelled at you for, calling you a traitor, playfully, which you thought was funny. They quickly knew that what you weren’t lying when you told them all that he was an actual god, but that of course opened up a new problem, as many of them claimed they were going to start training and wanted to fight against him again! You couldn’t help but smile, seeing him getting along with your family, as he playfully teased them that it would take them years to get strong enough to be able to face him, which caused another argument. You’re so happy that your family likes him and vice versa.
-Poseidon, Odin, Hades, and Thor
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just-another-star-47 · 2 months
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Sebastian Sallow
My headcanons for him before Anne's curse.
More headcanons for Slytherin • Gryfindor • Ravenclaw • Hufflepuff
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16 September 1873 ♍️ , born 37 minutes before Anne
He speaks English, Scottish Gaelic, Latin, (Ancient) Greek, French and knows some runic alphabets -> if he is interested in a subject or enjoys a particular story, he learns the language in which the work is written so that he can read it in the original version.
Feldcroft borders directly on Goblinland, so he also knows common phrases and words in their language
His favourite thing to read are Greek myths, as his father often read them to him; he knows the myths about the Rape of Europa and Heracles by heart - in English and Greek.
His parents were often busy with their research and experiments, so Sebastian was often left to look after himself and Anne.
His parents travelled a lot and lived in different villages, taking their children with them, so that they were unable to build up any real friendships outside the family and at some point Sebastian gave up trying to make contact with other children.
In Feldcroft, after the death of his parents, he also rarely socialised with his peers, but withdrew even more into himself
The villagers often described him as very mature for his age and often gave him tasks with which he could earn a few coins, food, etc.
Sebastian not only has many of his father's characteristics, but also looks very much like him, which made it difficult for Solomon to treat him fairly and caringly from the start - as Sebastian did not put up with this and often rebelled against it, Solomon eventually gave up trying at all.
Sebastian had the villagers of Feldcroft teach him all about field and garden work in order to provide Anne with the best possible food, but Solomon often used the work as a punishment.
Sebastian has little interest in contact with people and quickly becomes impatient unless the person has something that could benefit him - knowledge, skills, information.
He knows exactly who he should be friendly to and who it makes no difference to.
It is not difficult for him to make someone cry with words alone.
He loves puns.
Sebastian likes to be left alone most of the time (Anne and Ominis are the exception) and so it comes in handy that he has built up a bad reputation at Hogwarts over the years.
Together with Anne, Sebastian is always one of the best in his year.
In most situations, Sebastian manages to find a benefit for himself.
Due to his ability and his intellectual superiority over most people, Sebastian feels very self-confident, but does not believe that anyone could like or even love him just for himself. He therefore constantly tries to prove his worth.
He sees himself as the protector of Anne and Ominis and therefore always appears composed around them - neither of them has ever seen or heard him cry.
Sebastian thinks the world is deeply unfair and it is up to him to find his own way by any means possible.
He idealises his parents, especially his father and, to a certain extent, Anne and Ominis too.
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luxthestrange · 1 year
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RoR Incorrect quotes#142 Pucker up Fishy
When The Greek Gods Were Invited to a festival from the human side, Promising drinks food, and entertainment...One God In particular needed to participate... and dragged like the hermit of the family he is to it
Raiden* Appears in the middle of the stage welcoming everyone*COME ONE! COME ALL! HURRY, HURRY, HERE'S YOUR CHANCE SEE THE MYSTERY AND ROMANCE~*Winks at Poseidon who is sitting with Hades and Heracles*
Poseidon*Glares at Raiden and continues to drink*
Raiden: COME ONE! COME ALL! SEE THE FINEST BEAUTY ON EARTH MAKE AN ENTRANCE TO ENTRANCE DANCE LA Y/NNNNNN...DANCE!?~*Throws a smoke bomb to the floor*
On the last word, Raiden disappears in a puff of smoke, and You appear in his place, You proceed to perform a sultry dance on the stage
Poseidon*Eyes blew wide, but returns to his usual stoic self...with eyes still glued on your figure, To Heracles* Look at that disgusting display.
Heracles*enthusiastically nods and moves bangs out his way to see you* Yes, sir!
Y/n*Giving a quick Wink to Hades*?~
Hades*Coughs into a fist averting his gaze from you...for like a minute before going back to Oggling you*...
You continue to dance, pull out a handkerchief, Jump to Posiedon's chair onto his lap, and wrap it around Poseidon's head playfully, using it to pull him closer... As you move in to kiss him
Poseidon *Is completely still as he is taken aback by your boldness as he feels your lips getting closer...he ever so slowly moves closer*...
But you jump away at the last moment with a smirk and ruffle his hair all for it to fall on his face, He yanks the handkerchief off his head with a glare and grind of teeth
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Part 2 of: https://www.tumblr.com/luxthestrange/716587428763287552/ror-incorrect-quotes140-seducing-a-god?source=share
Thor: Captured
Poseidon: Captured
Heracles:NEXT
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tylermileslockett · 11 months
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The Abduction of Persephone
         In the Homeric Hymn to Demeter, we are shown the tragic tale of the abduction of Demeter’s and Zeus’s daughter Persephone; goddess of spring growth. The young girl, out picking flowers, is entranced by the beauty of a Narcissus flower when the earth opens up and Hades appears and steals her away in his chariot. Persephone cries out, but of all the gods, only Hekate hears the voice, and Helios, the sun god high above, sees the crime. Demeter, consumed by grief and neglecting her duties as an agricultural deity, disguises herself as an old woman and searches for her Daughter over the earth with torch bearing Hekate providing assistance.
In the city of Eleusis she becomes the nursemaid to a royal family and infant son; Demophon, whom she attempts to make immortal by cleansing the child with ambrosia and setting him upon the hearth fire in secret at night. But Demophon’s mother, the queen, discovers the ritual and interrupts it, preventing the child from obtaining immortality.
         Because Demeter is neglecting her agricultural duties, Zeus fears for humanities survival, and sends Hermes to deliver a message to Hades, imploring him to return Persephone to her mother. Hades relents, but tricks Persephone into eating a pomegranate fruit, forever tying her to the underworld. The daughter returns to the surface, reunites with her mother, but is fated to return to the underworld for a third of the year. Demeter, now satisfied, brings back fertility to the crops and even teaches the mortals of Eleusis the secret rites and rituals which will eventually become the Eleusinian mysteries religious cult. 
         Persephone appears in other hero myths beside Hades, as the queen of underworld, receiving the musician Orpheus in his quest of his lost love Eurydice, and Heracles, who negotiates for the release of Theseus.
Want to own a book jam packed with over 130 illustrations like this? Support my kickstarter for my book "lockett Illustrated: Greek Gods and Heroes" coming in October. please check my LINKTREE
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dolche-tejada · 8 months
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Okay I want to highlight something about Loki because I really feel like a lot of people got him wrong.
This is Loki when Mankind has won for the first time and a god whom he didn't know personally has died.
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He's pissed but more like "Shit did those hairless apes really manage to kill one of us ? They won't brag about it for long". However, we quickly see that he becomes quite chill about it.
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And now just look at his reaction when Heracles died.
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Clearly not the same. This is the first and only time so far we've seen Loki express genuine sadness. The anime even insists more on this with this shot
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And whereas when Poseidon died, he was just annoyed, didn't hide it and quickly calmed down, here he contrasts radically by being completely mad and with the way he tries to hide how this situation affects him
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And that's why I highly doubt that his backstory will portray him as some kind of unredeemable twisted psycho. Because despite his views on Humanity, he's more human than he tries to appears and can actually care for other people.
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fluorescentbalaclava · 2 months
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In honour of the playtest of Hades 2 an Ate I did in the style of the game!
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"(She) that blindeth all—a power fraught with bane; delicate are her feet, for it is not upon the ground that she fareth, but she walketh over the heads of men, bringing men to harm, and this one or that she ensnareth."
In the Argonautica, Hera says that "even the gods are sometimes visited by Ate".
Ate is the greek goddess of mischief, delusion, ruin, and blind folly, rash action and reckless impulse who led men down the path of ruin. She was considered the personification of ruin. According to Hesiod (Theog. 230), a daughter of Eris, and according to Homer (Il. xix. 91) of Zeus.
I personally made her like Eris, and like her grandmother Nyx, with soooome details of Zeus.
Ate appears in a story in the Iliad, where it is told how she came to be thrown out of Olympus, and never permitted to return. Zeus held Ate to blame for blinding him to Hera's trickery which resulted in the loss of the birthright Zeus intended for his son Heracles: to be lord over the Argives. As punishment, an enraged Zeus:
"seized Ate by her bright-tressed head, wroth in his soul, and sware a mighty oath that never again unto Olympus and the starry heaven should Ate come, she that blindeth all. So said he, and whirling her in his hand flung her from the starry heaven, and quickly she came to the tilled fields of men. At thought of her would he ever groan, whenso he beheld his dear son in unseemly travail beneath Eurystheus' tasks."
Homer, Iliad 9. 498 ff :
"The very immortals can be moved; their virtue and honour and strength are greater than ours are, and yet with sacrifices and offerings for endearment, with libations and with savour men turn back even the immortals in supplication, when any man does wrong and transgresses. For there are also the Litai (Litae, Prayers), the daughters of great Zeus, and they are lame of their feet, and wrinkled, and cast their eyes sidelong, who toil on their way left far behind by the spirit of Ruin (Ate): but she, Ate (Ruin), is strong and sound on her feet, and therefore far outruns all Litai (Prayers), and wins into every country to force men astray; and the Litai (Prayers) follow as healers after her. If a man venerates these daughters of Zeus as they draw near, such a man they bring great advantage, and hear his entreaty; but if a man shall deny them, and stubbornly with a harsh word refuse, they go to Zeus, son of Kronos, in supplication that Ate (Ruin) may over take this man, that he be hurt, and punished."
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babyrdie · 2 months
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HADES SPOILERS
Edit: the leaked design of Hermes was true and appeared in Early Acess! I confirmed (I saw in a gameplay and he appeared when I was playing)
Edit 2: Chaos, Hestia, Scylla, Chronos, Eris, Heracles, Echo, Polyphemus, Charybdis, Hades, Circe, Icarus, Medea and Hera!
Also Narcissus (he doesn't have an appearance revealed, though) Hecuba (??)
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bones4thecats · 3 months
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Beelzebub, Poseidon, Jack and Nikola with a s/o that's like 10X stronger than they are, like reader doesn't look like it at all but they can just pick them up and throw them over their shoulder with not even a little bit of their power wasted, reader is also known all around like a powerful and authority figure, they're a head god/goddess (kinda like Zeus and Odin)
Them With a Head God and Strong! S/O
Type of Writing: Request Characters: Beelzebub, Poseidon, Jack the Ripper, and Nikola Tesla Name: Them With a Head God and Strong! S/O Requester: Anonymous
A/N: These readers are all from different FAKE Pantheons, so you won’t be able to find any information out. But, they are all slightly inspired by the Bible, the Sinto, and the Greek Pantheon. By the way, here are the four different regions the FAKE Pantheons are from/set; Hierarchie - Germany ║ Hiérarchie - France ║ Jiēcéng - China ║ Ierarhie - Romania. By the way, these all mean ‘Hierarchy’ just so you guys know
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🪰 You had met Beelzebub back in 2000 B.C.E. at one of your first Gods’ Council Meetings as the leader of your Pantheon, Hierarchie
🪰 He was a very quiet person, and that interested you, due to being a fairly quiet person yourself. And the only reason that Beelzebub actually looked up from his hands was when someone tried to offend him, resulting in you sending a lightning bolt to strike them directly in the head
🪰 When you guys first met, Beelzebub had tried to keep his distance from you, as he didn’t want your Pantheon on his ass if you were to be harmed by this God-forsaken curse he was born with
🪰 Surprisingly, despite his obvious care for you, this curse had never harmed you, it was as if Satan had seen you as worthy of the affections of Beelzebub’s, which made him nearly cry tears of joy
🪰 Now, when it was decided that Ragnarok would have to produce 13 Gods for fighting, it was decided that there would be a Head of Pantheon fighting against a well-respected member of Humanity fighting
(Ignore the Beelzebub and Nikola Tesla fight)
🪰 It was you who was chosen to fight against Humanity’s representatives, the Greatest Warrior in History and by-far the most Successful Military Commander in History, Alexander the Great
🪰 The man had readied his Völundr sarissa as you stood there as he claimed the care that Humanity had and how they could better themselves if given the chance, your husband softly chuckled at your comeback to the pledge
" Let me guess, Brunhilde has been filling your heads with that nonsense? How fitting. She’s always been such a blood-thirsty and crude woman, I wouldn't put it behind her to lie to her assets. Though, despite the ignorant comment, you are not the dumbest man I’ve met, though, you better pray that he doesn’t die, mortal. "
🪰 The Gods erupted in laughter at your insult, and hearing Brunhilde’s swears only made it even better
🪰 Due to being well-known for your barbaric actions in battle and that you loved working your opponents up so they lost due to anger made your Pantheon cheer as Heimdall called out the starting word for Round 8 of Ragnarok
🪰 Now the only thing your husband could do is watch and hope that you come out of this unscathed, if a human could take down the likes of Poseidon, Heracles, and Hades, who knows if they can get you
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🔱 As a new head to your Pantheon, Hiérarchie, that originated in the northern land of Gaul, now known as France, by the migratory people
🔱 Poseidon was not amused when Hades had sent him a letter explaining that he was required to come to a meeting between the most powerful members of the multitude of Pantheons across the world
🔱 He had only been there a few minutes when you appeared in complete smoke, covering your feet as you strode in as your right-hand, the God of Life, Vie (life), appeared next to you, spreading light whereas you spread darkness
🔱 During that meeting, Poseidon had snuck quick glaces at you, and the only one to even come lose to noticing was Hades and Vie, who only glanced at you both and shrugged their shoulders
🔱 As you and Poseidon began to speak more and more over the next few thousand years, your relationship grew into a full-on marriage, settling a union between two of the most powerful Pantheons in mythology
🔱 Now, when Ragnarok was proposed by Brunhilde, you were chosen by Zeus to represent the Gods in the third round against an unknown human contestant
(Ignore the Poseidon vs Sasakii Kojiro fight)
🔱 You were set to go against the well-known Greek physician, Hippocrates, also known as the 'Father of Modern Medicine', who had written many different things he had discovered about illnesses, which helped Humanity grow in healing one another
🔱 Staring at the middle-aged man, despite the fact he (supposedly) lived to a very old age, that being 90 years, you scoffed lightly. This action made the physician cock and eyebrow and ask you what the matter was
" You. You are the matter. I'm the head of a Pantheon, a Supreme Deity, and I have to battle against some old man? How repulsive. " " You sound quite arrogant, ma'am/sir. " " Arrogant? Y'know, I was going to be nice and allow you the win so I can get back to doing my real job and handling my people, but now? Forget it. Grab your weapon and ready yourself, human. Because I'm not as nice as some say I am. "
🔱 Gripping his trident tighter as the second passed in the battle, Poseidon was interrupted in his thoughts by his nephew, Ares', screams of support to you as Heracles smiled and cheered for you more quietly
🔱 You were stronger than him... and if he knew he could defeat a human in battle, you definitely would. Right?
" Please be safe, my love... "
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🩸 Jack knows for certain that you're powerful, far more powerful than him. Even if he had a clone of himself, you would still win against both, no doubt. You are a Supreme Deity for a reason, after all
🩸 As your Pantheon was made many centuries before England was, you would normally curse people out underneath your breath in severely ancient Chinese, and whenever Jack asked you about your travels back home, you would rather he call it 'Zhongguo', as that is what it was called when you were made
🩸 When Ragnarok was hailed and you walked out of the Council with your smaller-Pantheon following you and the Valkyrie sisters, you were worried... what if Brunhilde chose your husband?
🩸 Unfortunately, Brunhilde had asked if your husband would be willing to participate in the battle to the death. And, being a protective spouse, you shut it down and said you would take his place
🩸 Hearing that news made Jack nearly spit out his tea, he knew you didn't want him to die again and all, but why would you sacrifice yourself like this?
" My love, I am truly sorry for not notifying you about this issue. But, I must admit, I do not wish to see you get thrown around by some punk-God who just wants Humanity destroyed. Unlike them, I know for certain that Humanity is worth fighting for, and I- I don't want you possibly dying for that cause. I'd rather die than live without you for the rest of my life. " " As your husband, I admit the same. An afterlife without you would be like living on Earth without oxygen, I would not be able to handle it. " " How about this; we fight together? After all, neither of us can live without the other, right? " " You always find the most crafty ways of getting out of this accidents, am I correct, Y/N? " " Yes you are, dearest. "
(Ignore that his original opponent was Heracles, he deserves to live U-U)
🩸 Humanity was not happy to hear that they were being represented by a killer duo, that being the supposed Jack the Ripper, a man who killed multiple women throughout the year 1888, and a Deity of Blood-lust and War, one that had tortured many in their conquest to rid the world of threats against your people
🩸 The Gods chosen to fight you both was the twins of Egyptian Mythology, Geb, the God of the Earth, and Nut, Goddess of the Sky. You just so happened to be close to Nut, which resulted in you and her going apart from one another as the battle commenced
🩸 When you and Geb looked into one another's eyes as Jack and Nut looked into their opponent's, Brunhilde looked over you all and clenched her fists
🩸 You both better come out of this alive; she doesn't need to lose someone she holds very dear to her again
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🧪 As the Supreme God of the Ierarhie Pantheon, which hailed from the European Country of Romania, you knew of many people coming from nearby lands, including the famous Nikola Tesla, who migrated from his home village in Smijan, Croatia, to North America
🧪 When you both first met, you were speaking to one of your close human friends, Marie Curie, and he noticed how your eyes lit up with amazement as she explained the suit's mechanisms
🧪 He hasn't seen anyone other than his fellow scientists look so gleefully at a piece of machinery before
🧪 As you stood and listened, Nikola had looked at you every once and a while before he was called by Marie, making him turn around and officially meet you
🧪 And he had to admit, you were one of the most gorgeous beings he has ever laid eyes upon. You were even more beautiful than the first invention he ever made
🧪 Ever since that day, you had always come in on your free-days away from Supreme-Deity duties and you would assist the many scientists on what they could do to improve the giant suit for Ragnarok
🧪 Speaking of Ragnarok, when you found out that the man you had grown close to was fighting Beelzebub, one of the most ruthless and mysterious Gods in the entire mixture of Pantheons, you had put your foot down and begun to speak with him about it, resulting in Brunhilde and Zeus making the exception for you to help out during the round, like a fight happening during a fight
🧪 When it was announced that you and Nikola were needed on the battlefield, you had hugged him tightly as he and his Valkyrie, Göndul, prepared and performed their Völundr
🧪 As you gripped your weapon, he looked down on you, gifting you the most gorgeous smile you had ever seen in your entire life of millions of years, and hearing the love-sick words pour out of his mouth made you nearly cry and kiss him for the possible first and last time
" Ljubavi (my love, I think?), I must confess this to you before we make an ultimate sacrifice. I love you, I have ever since I had laid my eyes upon your darling form. And I must do this if we do not make it out alive. "
🧪 When you felt him kiss you, you wrapped your arms around his neck, making him sigh contently as you kissed him right back. His and your shared fears leaving your minds for a while as the moment continued, the only thing snapping you away is the sound of Heimdall beginning your introductions
" I love you, Y/N. " " And I love you, Nikola Tesla. "
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itsmoonpeaches · 5 months
Text
Title: Eye of the Hurricane
Fandom: Percy Jackson and the Olympians
Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial
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[NOTE: I had to create this gif as no existing gif that I wanted of this scene previously existed in the gifs search. This gif belongs to me.]
Word count: 1,004
Rating: G
Summary: Poseidon cannot change fate, but he can be there for Percy when he is needed the most. In the only way a god can.
“Do you want to talk to him?” Sally asked, her voice tremulous as the storm Poseidon had conjured outside upon his arrival. “I know you shouldn’t but maybe just to hear his voice.”
It was easy for a god to covet things, to wish for wants, and demand them to appear. It was easy too for a god to change perceptions of reality, if only to bend the rules for a moment. Poseidon tasted that potential for a sliver of time when he glanced back at the patterned pane that separated him from the young boy. He could see glimpses of Percy through that inch of glass. A boy with eyes like the sea, with blond windswept hair, and a mustard yellow sweater.
Thunder shuddered the walls of the diner, rumbling in those few seconds that brought the truth back into focus and reminded Poseidon who he was…a god who could do nothing. 
It was difficult for a god to be powerless.
Poseidon forced himself now to never glance in Sally Jackson’s direction—to never tempt himself with forming something permanent with the mortal he loved. 
“One day,” he said so only she could hear. “One day, when he’s ready. When he knows who he is and where he belongs. And fate has revealed to him his true path. On that day…I’ll be right by his side.”
The scent of smoke and burning chocolate syrup mixed with sundae ascended from the tall glass cup that divided them. He could still feel the tingle of desperation in his ichor, the call of a human to his domain.
He allowed himself one look. One last look at her before he left. Her eyes were closed, the single tear that had escaped her eye finished its journey down her cheek, and he imagined what it would have been like if he could hold their son between them instead of holding their distance.
When he left, he knew the rain had continued its deluge upon that little town in Upstate New York. He permitted it to happen. What else could he offer?
That autumn day, he stood on the beach at Montauk. Alone because the humans who went there thought the waters too cold apart from the summer season. The ocean lapped at his feet, the breeze a welcome comfort.
Montauk was not his most awe-inspiring work. The waves were turbulent, the climate too unforgiving to warrant many seasonal visitors. Not like plenty of his other haunts where the sands were powder and the ocean a clear sapphire when much of the world froze. But Montauk was an aspect of him. Of rocks, surf, and pebbles hidden in shores. Of sharp sea glass, short cliffs, and gray waters.
Montauk was Sally. Montauk was Percy.
Poseidon stepped into the tides. He descended as easily as he always had. A current roared overhead, so strong that it could drag any careless swimmer under in a matter of seconds.
“Lord Poseidon?” chirped a hammerhead shark in his mind. “Lord Delphin wishes to meet with you about the upcoming dolphin migration from the Carolinas. The riptides might deter them from moving any faster.”
His eyes snapped to the shark. The creature stiffened with fear.
“Riptide,” Poseidon said. He looked above him once more at the same current that had pushed him below.
“Ye–yes,” stammered the shark. “That is indeed part of the problem.”
“Or it is part of the solution.”
The water bubbled and Poseidon disappeared. He called upon a force of old, a force he had not called upon for thousands of years since the time of Heracles. That familiar thing tugged at his core and in the palm of his hand, burning and thriving.
And so, when he reappeared, he was on the shore of Long Island Sound. Night engulfed him. Apollo completed his duty. There was silence on the beach.
He walked through the forest and past curious wood nymphs who melted out of trees. He felt their eyes. He felt their words. He let them pass.
Upon the hill, he saw the Big House, its glass shimmering with starlight. A shadow shifted on the porch.
“Chiron,” he remarked as he approached.
The centaur looked startled. Chiron unfolded himself from his resting position on the deck, a mortal book about architecture in his hand.  “Lord Poseidon!” he exclaimed. “It is a surprise to see you here.”
Poseidon hummed. He lifted his hand, the object he had willed into existence thrummed on his skin. "I have a task for you."
“You have laid a shroud of Mist over it, I see," Chiron observed. 
Poseidon nodded. “The world outside is dangerous. Humans do not understand our world. I do not expect them to.”
"It is a curious choice to disguise a weapon as a pen."
“A gift,” Poseidon corrected. “One day, there is sure to be someone who needs it more than I.
“The story of this blade is a tragic one, but it does not have to be. You must keep it in your possession. Do not let anyone who is not worthy take it. Do not let anyone know you have it.”
“How will I know who is to own it?” Chiron asked.
“You will know.”
Chiron studied him, and Poseidon felt like a demigod would if they were one of the centaur's pupils.
“The blade is called Anaklusmos," explained Poseidon. "Riptide.”
The name rolled off his tongue, and like a whirlpool forming in the deep, clashed against the currents that had prevented him from remembering it. A reminder that even the powerful were not invincible.
“The master of that blade will drown their enemies in the depths of the raging sea. It will protect them.” He glanced away. “I will protect them.”
Chrion took Anaklusmos from his hand.
Poseidon knew this desire of his was a fool’s quest for the impossible. But though a god could not change fate or ancient laws, he could try.
Poseidon was the sea. His son was born from defiance.
Also available on ao3.
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