#but it fell into the same problems as daughters of sparta

[7amaspayrollmanager]

so last year i read a couple retellings of the iliad from the perspective of the women and they were bad so bad like if the authors just tried to capture that ancient type of lyricism that Madeline Miller was able to mimic maybe they could have saved themselves, but they were lacking in making a point. like okay womens lives were terrible then but what else? is that all we can imagine on their behalf anything beyond what we can already tell from what Greek men say about them? clearly the answer is no. but i was thinking there was this retelling of the iliad i read in middle school and it was in the perspectives of helen and cassandra and it was in my middle school library and i did some searching. did anyone read this? i might reread it

[screechthemighty]

FRICK I WAS GONNA WRITE THAT ESSAY ABOUT KRATOS AND VIOLENCE IN THE COMICS...this is going to be disjointed as hell, but @starlightbebright here you go. Under a cut for length as usual.

Okay, so, what brought this to mind was me reading the synopsis for the next (final??) issue of Fallen God. The description reads as follows (emphasis added by me):

For as long as he has been the Ghost of Sparta, Kratos has been a tool of violence for others. In a desperate attempt to reclaim control of his future and find peace,  he led far from the lands of his ancestors only to find himself exactly where he was foretold he would be. How does one escape the torment of predestination? Does Kratos rail against the inevitable or once again embrace fury to fell his foes though it means he will be forever damned? What will be the fate of the fallen god?

So, the stuff about fate all makes sense to me. Yes, it does suck for the guy who doesn’t want to be violent anymore to be dragged back into violence over and over. It’s the insinuation in the highlighted line--that killing a giant monster that is actively threatening people would damn him again. Like it’s on the same level as revenge-killing an entire pantheon or being so caught up in bloodlust that you accidentally murder your wife and daughter. And this isn’t the only time this has happened, either. In the other tie-in comic (same author, BTW), Kratos regularly tests himself by seeing if he can avoid fighting in threatening situations, including letting himself get mauled by wolves (something I bet Faye is real thrilled about) and hesitating to intervene when a beserker is actively murdering someone...then being pissed that the guy being mauled had the audacity to be in danger around him, therefore making him commit acts of violence out of pity. There may be more, but I was too lazy to re-read the whole thing, so those are two instances early on.

(Kratos also says “damn you to hell” in that comic too, which, I’m just gonna say it, is a whack-ass thing for an ancient Greek to be saying IMHO, bUT...)

Now, some might think, “But, Screech, this fits with his character, right? He came out to Midgard to avoid violence and live a more peaceful life and all, right?” Yes, definitely true! But here’s the thing: in the game, the main source material, the thing by which I measure tie-in canon, Kratos has no problem with violence. He actively tells Atreus that he might have to kill to survive, and when he’s killed Magni, his response is not morose self-flagellation. It’s simple and, in my opinion, a correct assessment of the situation: “I defended us. Nothing more. I fear no judgment.” The issue Kratos has is excessive violence, like when Atreus stabs a wounded and unthreatening Modi in the neck out of anger, not to defend them. Or when Atreus continues attacking the already-dead troll and loses his temper. You know, the kind of behavior that got Kratos into trouble in the first place.

Okay, so, maybe it’s because he’s relying on his Spartan Rage? That would make sense; after all, it’s the state that gets him into such a frenzy that he could lose control and do something stupid. I’d call that fair enough too, except neither comic clarifies it’s about the rage, only the fighting. Maybe I’m supposed to intuit that it’s the rage he’s specifically avoiding but there’s two problems. First, again, Kratos is avoiding all violence in the comics, not just his rage. Second, from what I remember, there’s really nothing in the art style to differentiate enraged Kratos from regular Kratos, so as far as I can tell, he’s just doing all of this without going super saiyan, so he’s not even using his rage. And again, going back to the game, he’s perfectly fine using his Spartan Rage. It’s a constantly usable gameplay mechanic and he never seems to beat himself up for using it when it’s prompted for plot reasons (like the Baldur fights). Atreus has even seen him do it before, and Kratos treats it as a dangerous but useful tool when talking to him at the house (”Anger can be a weapon, if you control it”). And you could argue that maybe it’s something he grew more comfortable with by the time Faye died, but comics!Atreus doesn’t seem to be too much younger than he is in the game, so there’s way he got over that distaste in like...a year or two at most.

There’s only one time in the game canon where Kratos seems distressed by violence he’s actively committing, and that’s the fight against the bridge keeper in Hel. I assume this is because he started a fight against an enemy who had done nothing to him and ended up violently mutilating him rather than simply defeating him, all while using the blades that murdered his family. It’s understandable that he’s visibly shaken the whole scene because while his reasons for killing the bridge keeper are legitimate, it’s the closest he’s come to being his old self in a long time. All of those elements make sense...and they are also almost entirely lacking in the Midgard-era comics. The Blades are basically a passive antagonist in Fallen God, but that’s only one element of many, and it still doesn’t fix my other issues.

tl;dr: The comics utterly lack a line between acceptable violence and unacceptable violence, which is not only just kind of a weird way to treat violence (and I say this as a borderline pacifist), but it also makes no sense with Kratos’s character as we see him in God of War 2018.

[jacobmybeloved]

Far Cry 5 Superhero AU Pt. 1

Part 1 of my Far Cry 5/FCND/Superhero AU lmao. Some of this may change once I actually get around to writing for it but I wanted to share what I had so far. First part is all about the Seeds, second part will include Thomas, Sharky, and my OC’s :) [this took nearly two weeks to work out so I hope you guys like it ;_;]

[Part 2 Here - OC’s + Canon Characters]

Name: Rachel Jessop Alias: Faith Seed, The Mindbender Species: Human Abilities: Toxic immunity, high intelligence, chemist, produces drug to alter target’s mind state, manipulation

Dr. Jessop surpassed many of her colleagues at the young age of twenty-four. Graduating at eighteen with a Ph.D. and doctorates, she had her whole life set before her. The problem was, no one really knew who Rachel Jessop was. To some she went by the alias Faith Seed, to others, she referred to herself by her birth name. Even her history was a mystery: one rendition had her painted as coming from an abusive background, ostracized by her community, the other portrayed her as owner and operator of Jessop conservatory. Whatever her story, there’s one thing that rings true: she loves terrorizing and manipulating helpless victims in her spare, donning the moniker The Mindbender. The reason? Just for the fun of it. She works closely with The Seed brothers, acting almost as a sister to them, in activating dormant meta human genes to supply their brother John with super soldiers.

Name: John Seed Alias: The Inquisitor Species: Human Abilities: Business management, multilingualism, robotic engineering, political science, philanthropist (supposedly)

John Seed loves three things the most: sex, money, and power. Previously a young hotshot lawyer, John decided to switch things up in light of the meta human phenomenon that swept across the world. Putting his funds into meta human research, he earned the nickname The Inquisitor due to his near-obsessive nature with the meta human community. John, working alongside the U.S. government, eventually formed a small league of heroes in lieu of possible threats from international meta humans with himself acting a de facto leader. Where is he getting his supply of up and coming heroes you may ask? Ask his good friend Ramona King. While John’s intentions seem good and well on the surface, there’s no denying that something does not sit quite right with the man, his true intentions only known to himself and his brothers and adoptive sister.

Name: Joseph Seed Alias: The Father Species: Metahuman Abilities: mild mind control, telepathy, telekinesis, charisma

Not much is known about the man known as The Father. Some say he was a former preacher who lost his wife and daughter in a car crash. Some say he was the leader of a doomsday cult. Whatever the truth, there’s no denying he is a frighteningly charismatic man who can make you feel both at home and uneasy at the same time. With the loss of his wife and daughter driving him to near madness, he took on the persona of The Father, seeking out to replace the family he lost via the use of many inanimate objects such as dolls, mannequins and even people. Joseph helps his brother John in recruiting meta humans to their cause, in hopes of building a grand enough army that they can shape the world in however way they want. 

Name: Jacob Seed Alias: Wolf of Sparta Species: Metahuman Abilities: tactical analysis, master marksman, hand-to-hand combat, weaponry, shape shifting, superhuman agility, tracking, enhanced senses, accelerated healing

Earning his alias from the red accents that adorn his armor and the blood spilled by his enemies at his own hand, Jacob Seed is a force to be reckoned with. Serving under his brother’s, Joseph and John, Jacob operates within the meta human covert ops division. He goes where the other public heroes cannot and does what the U.S. government cannot officially do. Assassinations, kidnapping, if they price is right, he’ll do it. Things aren’t always so clear cut however: after kidnapping one, now former vigilante, Nayeli Lamb, he fell in love instantaneously. Unbeknownst to his brothers, he set her free, eventually meeting her again years later for another romantic rendezvous. Eventually, becoming disillusioned with his brothers ideals and goals, Jacob set out on his own as a lone mercenary for hire, hoping to one day reunite with the woman he loves.

Name: Ethan Seed Alias: Odium Species: Metahuman (formerly human) Abilities: superhuman strength, enhanced reflexes, enhanced speed, metamorphism

The neglected son of Joseph Seed, many wonder if Joseph even recognizes Ethan as his own. Usually tagging alongside his Uncle John, he enjoys what little spotlight he gets. The dynamic of the White Knight uncle and Super Villain father makes for a great conversation starter, but going past that, no one truly knows or cares about Ethan Seed himself. In an attempt to rectify this, using his adoptive aunt's serum and Uncle John’s technology, Ethan sought out to hopefully activate his own meta human genes which he believed to be dormant. The results were successful but also catastrophic. While he was able to activate his meta human nature, Ethan had no idea of how to control it. 

[coffeeskater]

Interruptions

Anon asked: “ Hey I love your rare pair stories, you've dragged me into Kassandra/Aspasia hell because I want more content!!! Just a quick question, are you going to post these on AO3? I only saw a few of these prompts and was wondering if you could post them all. Anyways prompt is: Kassandra is a damn top with muscles “ (Yes, all my works are now on Ao3 Anon, sorry I couldn’t answer you sooner like a week ago when I put them all up there I needed to save your ask for the prompt.)

I combined two prompts here, one from @kasspasia again. A big thank you for that but also for letting me torture her with tidbits of this fic as I worked on it. She’s the real MVP.  This is just 10 pages of pure fluff and smut. VERY VERY NSFW YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!  I worked super hard on this one and I  have zero regrets about this fic . Enjoy! (I’m not sorry for any of this.)

~

Aspasia moaned, clutching as Kassandra’s shoulder as her tongue flicked across her nipple, arching into her mouth, desperate for more as Kassandra’s hand crept down her body, taking the time to stroke her skin as she descended achingly slowly. “Kassandra I swear to the gods if you don’t-“  She was cut off as the bedroom door opened, Kassandra instinctually pulling the sheets up to cover their bodies. Phoibe stood in the doorway, her mouth open in shock, a plate of fruit she must have been holding clattering to the floor.

“I knew it!” The girl cheered, clapping and looking delighted. “I knew you two were sneaking around pretending you weren’t spending ‘adult time’ together!”   Phoibe gestured as she said ‘adult time’ to indicate she didn’t believe for a second that what the two had been doing was innocent. Before either woman could react Phoibe was dashing off laughing delightedly.

Kassandra’s head fell onto Aspasia shoulder, groaning in frustration as Aspasia stared numbly up at the ceiling. “Please tell me this is a bad dream I’m going to wake from at any moment.” Kassandra mumbled.

“As much as I wish that were the case, I don’t think this is a dream.” Aspasia replied, throwing her arm over her eyes, still very wet between her legs and equally frustrated as she was aroused. If it wasn’t urgent business that needed her immediate attention, it was Kassandra’s duties as a Mistios or the ruse that she was Aspasia’s personal guard. Now apparently they had to worry about Phoibe interrupting what little time they had together.

With a throaty groan that told Aspasia that Kassandra was feeling exactly the same as she was, she got up and quickly changed her undergarments before donning her armor. “I’ll go chase the little sneak down and make sure this doesn’t spread.” Kassandra said, pausing to dip down and press a chaste kiss to Aspasia’s forehead before leaving the room, closing the door behind her.

“Gods be damned, what does a woman have to do to have some alone time these days?” Aspasia asked no one in particular, waiting a few minutes before she too got up and got changed, taking the time to make sure her hair didn’t betray the activities she’d almost had the pleasure of taking part in. Once ready to start her day Aspasia rose with a sigh, catching a glance at the small and rather plain bracelet that sat next to her circlet. Smiling, she picked it up and with some effort managed to clasp it to her wrist. It was a simple design, two scraps of cloth twined together, one red and one blue. Kassandra had shyly presented it to her almost a month ago now.

“I know you could buy yourself anything in this city…” She’d paused, “actually you could probably buy the city. But I wanted to get you something.” She’d presented the small bracelet, clearly nervous for the first time since Aspasia had met her. “I wanted to give you something, for when I’m gone and perhaps if you miss me.” The way she’d said it made a cold rush run down Aspasia’s spine, clearly doubting that the aristocrat missed her when she was off doing her various jobs. Taking the other woman’s face in her hands Aspasia had drawn her into a long and passionate kiss, pressing as close as possible to the mercenary, trying to say without words of course I miss you when you’re gone. When they’d broken apart Kassandra had smiled and lifted the bracelet and Aspasia let her claps it around her wrist.

Smiling at the memory, Aspasia rubbed her thumb along the jewelry and strode from her room, prepared to deal with what was sure to be a long day of meetings and business deals.

~

Kassandra bit down on the space between her thumb and index finger, biting hard enough to draw blood as she desperately tried to keep quiet. Aspasia smirked, teasing her finger tips through Kassandra’s slick heat. “shh, you don’t want the guests hearing you.” Aspasia murmured, pressed right up against Kassandra, slightly hiding the fact that her hand was up the mistios’ skirt. Kassandra’s legs shook, her breath labored as she panted through her nose. Her free hand gripped the slight marble outcrop, trying desperately to keep herself upright. Aspasia pressed a wet open mouthed kiss to Kassandra’s neck. Before she could continue, Kassandra yanked her hand from between her legs and spun, putting herself between Aspasia and the end of the hallway, one hand on Aspasia’s wrist, the other held her spear.

“My apologies.” A timid voice said and as Kassandra relaxed, she could see one of her servants, standing at the end of the hall, looking frightened. She relaxed as Kassandra replaced her spear and Aspasia stepped out from behind Kassandra. “Ma’am, a few of the guests are wondering if you have any other wine.”

Aspasia quirked a brow. “Is there a problem with the wine I’m currently serving?”

“No, ma’am. It’s not a problem with what you are serving, rather that there’s none left.” Aspasia sighed and rubbed her forehead.

“Let me guess, Aristophanes drank us dry.” The servant nodded and Aspasia sighed once more. “Go down and let our guests know there will be more wine shortly, I’ll see to it.” The servant nodded but before she could leave, Aspasia called out to stop her. “And Kleio, whatever you think you saw, you didn’t. Understand?” Kleio nodded and smiled softly before darting back down the stairs to the party they were supposed to be hosting.

As soon as she was gone Kassandra deflated, turning to face the wall and smacking her palm against the wall several times, leaving slight smears of blood on the wall which she glared at before using her cloak to wipe it away. Aspasia stepped close and drew Kassandra into a quick kiss. “One of these days, I am going to ignore these interruptions and whoever interrupts us can either leave or watch.” Kassandra growled, causing Aspasia to blush slightly at her words.

“We will find time.” Aspasia reassured, stroking her clean hand down Kassandra’s arm, and catching her eyes as she quickly sucked her fingers clean, bringing a pink flush to Kassandra’s cheeks. “Soon, but for now, you should help me collect some more wine.” Kassandra sighed and grumbled but followed Aspasia down the stairs and out back to resupply the party.

~

“Kassandra!” Myrinne called, down in the main room of the building, glancing about for any hint of either her daughter or her lover.

Upstairs Kassandra dropped her forehead against Aspasia’s stomach, muffling a sound of frustration. Aspasia pressed both palms to her eyes, biting her lip to muffle her own sound of agony. Used to being interrupted by now, Kassandra simply rose and readjusted her chiton before striding from the room and downstairs, accepting a hug from her mother.

“Mater. What can I do for you?” Myrinne smirked, brushing her thumb against the mark on her daughters neck, Unsurprised when Kassandra’s only reaction was to sigh and close her eyes.

“Am I interrupting something?”  She teased. Kassandra simply crossed her arms and stepped back, gesturing to the kitchen and Myrinne fell in step with her as they meandered over, Myrinne taking a seat at the table as Kassandra brought fresh water and some fruit over.

“It hardly matters if you interrupt, if it wasn’t you someone else would have interrupted.” Kassandra said, sitting heavily and rubbing her forehead. “We can’t have even one minute alone.” She sighed out frustratedly. “I’ve given up on ever spending time with her. So did you just want to visit or did you need something?” She asked as Aspasia came in, sitting next to Kassandra, now dressed and plucking an apple from the fruit bowl.

“Myrinne, nice to see you.” She greeted.

“Apparently not.” Myrinne returned, looking between the two. Aspasia narrowed her eyes at Kassandra who tipped her head to make the mark on her neck more obvious, causing Aspasia to sigh in defeat.

“Of course.” She muttered to herself.

“I came because I need Kassandra’s help, nothing too serious, just a hand with a few things back in Sparta.”

~

Kassandra gasped, her fingers knotted in Aspasia’s hair as her tongue flicked against her clit, her hips moving against Aspasia’s tongue, her eyes mostly closed. “I’m close.” Kassandra whispered, her head thrown back, Aspasia drawing little circles on her thighs as she pleasured Kassandra.

The both of them were so focused on each other that neither of them heard the door creak open and Alexios poke his head in, ready to call his sister’s name and catching sight of her against the far wall, a woman between her legs, her head hidden by the armor she wore around her waist. He tilted his head, curious as to that they could be doing.

“What are you two doing?” He asked, his deep voice sounding three times louder than it should in the relative quiet of the room.

Kassandra’s eyes popped open to find Alexios standing in the doorway, a confused frown on his face, Aspasia freezing before trying to pull away from Kassandra but kept close by a firm hand on the back of her head. “Get out!” she shouted gesturing for the door, her face blazing red.

“Surely that cannot be comfortable for your companion.” He mused, unmoving, squinting like he was trying to understand.

“OUT!” Kassandra shouted again, grabbing for the nearest thing to her and throwing it at Alexios, a clay jug shattering against the wall where his head had been. Releasing Aspasia’s head Kassandra darted over to the door and locked it. Leaning against the door, her face still a bright red. A few moments passed in silence before she turned a hand over her eyes. “I am sorry for…” She made a gesture indicating she meant when she’d kept Aspasia hidden between her legs. “I didn’t want him seeing you.”

Aspasia nodded, still dazed and embarrassed. “Probably for the best.” She replied sitting down at the table they kept in their bedroom, scattered with correspondence and requests for help or political affairs. Kassandra stayed at the door, both hands covering her face.

“I’m going to kill him.” She murmured, wishing for the ground to open up and swallow her whole. The pits of Tartarus would be better than here.

~

Aspasia burst into the room, startling Kassandra and Ikaros who was perched on her arm. “Come, follow me.” She demanded, not waiting before she spun around and strode along the hallway. Glancing at Ikaros who peeped before taking flight, Kassandra hurriedly took off, jogging to catch up to Aspasia, following her to the stables.

Aspasia stopped at Phobos’ stall and gestured, not saying anything. Confused but trusting the other woman, Kassandra pulled Phobos out and helped Aspasia up onto the horse, mounting behind her. Kassandra let Aspasia take the reins, her hands settling on her hips as Aspasia guided them down from the Villa they shared and into town.

“Do you feel like telling me where we’re going?” Kassandra asked, her hands slipping around Aspasia’s waist as she leaned into the other woman, pressing her front to her back, enjoying the contact. It had been almost two weeks since Alexios interrupted them, which had also been the last chance they’d had to be alone. Until now.

Her question was answered as Aspasia stopped them in front of the bath houses, getting off Phobos and walking up to one of the many, many guards that surrounded the biggest. Kassandra got off as well, letting the guard take the reins of her horse and Aspasia take her hand, insistently tugging her towards the bath house. They stopped in front a pair of guards and Aspasia grabbed one by the collar and jerked him down to be on eye level. “I will personally remove your testicles if you leave your post and let anyone, and I mean anyone into this bath house.” The guard looked terrified and nodded vehemently. Desperate to keep his body intact.

Aspasia let him go and tugged Kassandra past the line of guards, and into the bath house, Kassandra now more confused than ever. No sooner did they enter, the door closing behind them than Aspasia slammed Kassandra against the nearest wall, kissing her hard, running her hands up and down her body. “I have paid, truly exorbitant amounts of drachmae to have this place to ourselves for several hours, we are going to have a nice, relaxing bath and we are going to indulge in every single carnal desire we have.”  Kassandra sucked in a breath, her eyes darkening, her hands flexing on Aspasia’s waist. “I am tired of waiting and even more tired of the constant interruptions.”

“I could not agree more.” Kassandra replied, letting Aspasia push her into the room that held the bath, the large pool gently steaming and smelling sweetly. The water was a faint pink and despite the promise of privacy, Kassandra hesitated. Aspasia feeling her muscles tense, stepped back, watching as Kassandra’s eyes darted around the large space, the table laid with fruits and cheeses on the back wall, animal skins and rugs laid everywhere, a few benches pressed close to the walls.

“Is something the matter?” Aspasia asked softly, waiting until Kassandra dragged her gaze back.

“You are sure we will be left alone?” She asked, glancing over Aspasia’s shoulder at the entrance they had come from.

“I am certain, one way in and one way out. I paid each guard almost double their monthly wage for a few hours of work, if they know what’s good for them they’ll keep an entire Spartan army at bay for us.” This seemed to relax Kassandra, but not enough, still unable to truly relax. Frowning Aspasia caressed her cheek. “Tell me what is holding you back.”

“I just…” Kassandra sighed. “I can’t take another interruption. I have barely seen you let alone had time to love you in these past months. It would be a cruel joke from the gods to come so close and lose this chance.” Aspasia smiled and ran her hand down Kassandra’s arms, giving her hand a squeeze.

“There is no chance we will be interrupted my love. I have back up plans for my back up plans, nothing will ruin this for us now.” Finally Kassandra seemed to relax, letting her forehead rest against Aspasia’s. “Now come, we shouldn’t waste the few hours we have.”

Aspasia undid the few clasps that held Kassandra’s armor on, removing the chest piece and enjoying the flex of muscles as the cool air rushed across newly revealed skin. Next was her skirt, both greaves soon joining the small pile, her boots the last to come off, leaving Kassandra nearly naked. Before she could begin to pull at her breast band, Kassandra was stepping closer and kissing her, her nimble hands undoing the ties that held Aspasia’s dress together, letting the fabric fall, calloused fingers tracing across smooth unmarred skin. “Finally, I can take my time with you.” Kassandra murmured, her finger tips trailing up her spin, pulling a shiver from Aspasia, who pressed closer and buried her face in Kassandra’s neck, loving the scent of oiled leather and something distinctly Kassandra.

Aspasia slipped her fingers just under Kassandra’s breast band, giving a little tug to seek permission, tugging the fabric apart when she received a nod. It, along with the rest of their undergarments joined the pile before Kassandra dipped briefly, scooping Aspasia up and walking carefully into the bath.

The warm water was heavenly and Kassandra sighed in contentment, letting Aspasia down before sinking lower into the water to sit on the submerged bench. The water came to just above her breasts and Aspasia wasted no time in taking a seat between her legs, reclining against the woman the same way she had many months ago. One of the mercenary’s hands came up to hold her close, palm flat against her abdomen, blunt nails scratching lightly, the other resting along the edge of the bath.

Aspasia closed her eyes, the warmth of the bath and the comfort of the woman she loved enough to lull her into a semi-conscious state. She’d come here with every intention of washing as quickly as possible before moving on to the more lustful activities that plagued her dreams every night, but now that she had Kassandra alone, just her presence and the promise of time together, uninterrupted was more than enough and Aspasia found herself relishing in the simple pleasures of the warm water and Kassandra’s idle touches, their breathing synchronized as they lay together.

What could have been hours later but surely must not have been, Kassandra placed a kiss at the junction between her neck and shoulder, the arm around her waist tightening subtly. Aspasia smiled and in response opened her legs a little further. Kassandra pressed kisses along her neck, bringing her other arm under the water to skim up Aspasia’s body, her finger tips teasing up her sides with gentle touches. In response reached up and tangled her finger in Kassandra’s hair, realizing at some point she’d undone her braid. Kassandra cupping her breast and squeezing softly caused her to fist her hand in Kassandra’s hair, gasping as she palmed her, her touches still infuriating gentle and tender. A sharp nip at her neck had her gasping in pleasure.

Never one to be outdone, Aspasia trailed the hand not currently tangled in Kassandra’s hair down her body, making sure her fingers brushed Kassandra’s as she brought her hand to her own core, smirking as Kassandra inhaled sharply.

“Touch me.” Aspasia breathed, enjoying the shiver that racked her lover. Not needing to be told twice, Kassandra’s other hand glided up her body, finding a nipple and gently tweaking it and rolling it slightly between her forefinger and thumb, mirroring the motion with her other hand. Normally Kassandra was rougher, more eager and insistent with her touches, but this time she took her time, enjoying every gasp and moan of pleasure she caused.

She took her time working her up, thumbs dragging down Aspasia’s chest, enjoying the way her hardened nipples felt against the palms of her hands as she gradually moved down her body, squeezing her chest as she went, pinching each bud and eliciting a whine of desire which rapidly changed into a deep throated moan as Kassandra finally slipped between her legs. Her left arm wrapped around Aspasia to keep her in place, her other hand teasing between slick pink folds.

The grip on her hair tightened as Kassandra finally slipped a single finger inside, thrusting slowly and methodically, just enough to feel good but nowhere near enough to satisfy. “Kassandra.” Aspasia moaned, trying to cant her hips forward for more but held back by the well-muscled arm around her waist.

“Patience.” Kassandra purred in her ear, teeth scraping lightly against her ear lobe, making Aspasia shiver despite the hot water. Her thumb circled the bud at her apex and it was enough to make Aspasia close her eyes and her head to fall back against Kassandra’s shoulder gasping and moaning her name. Her free hand settled on Kassandra’s thigh, gripping tightly as she slowly picked up speed.

It was delicious torture as Kassandra continued her slow place, a fire slowly building as it was stroked back to life. Then suddenly without warning Kassandra added a second finger and curled them. Aspasia couldn’t stop herself from screaming her name. The arm around her waist shifted until fingers pressed at her throat, tipping her chin to the ceiling so Kassandra could kiss her, swallowing every moan and whimper of pleasure as she picked up pace, her fingers thrusting quicker and quicker, her thumb tracing patterns on her clit.

Very quickly Aspasia found herself hurtling towards the edge. Her chest heaved as Kassandra kissed her cheek and neck, curling her fingers and rocking her hips forward with each thrust in. “Kass… Kass I’m so close.”

“I know.” Kassandra whispered back, nipping at her neck and pressing harder with her thumb, the new pressure and tight circles she drew bringing her closer and closer to the edge. With a muffled scream of Kassandra’s name Aspasia felt her orgasm build, almost at the peak... until Kassandra stopped entirely, withdrawing her hand.

“No!” Aspasia practically sobbed, her walls clenching around nothing and her clit aching for pressure that wasn’t there. Her nails dug in tightly to Kassandra’s thighs, hard enough to draw blood as Aspasia shook. A string of curses that would put any sailor to shame left her lips as Kassandra stroked the sweaty hair from her face. “You…. You!” Aspasia whimpered, her mind still clouded from the pleasure.

“Relax my love, you’ll finish, but not before I taste you.” Kassandra said and Aspasia could hear the smirk in her voice. She was then lifted, out of the bath and laid on the edge of it, her legs dangling into the water before Kassandra knelt, facing her and draped her legs over her shoulders, giving no warning of what she intended before her mouth was licking at her, broad flat strokes flicking across her center, humming against her, the vibrations a pleasant and welcome sensation.

Knotting her fingers in Kassandra’s hair, Aspasia tugged her closer, urging her closer, demanding more. Giving in to the demands Kassandra took her clit in her mouth, sucking and laving at the little bud, enjoying the way it made Aspasia moan her name. Within minutes Aspasia was back on the peak, soft noises of pleasure mixed with Kassandra’s name filling the space as she rocked against her face.

Aspasia felt Kassandra’s hand slipping up her trembling body, palm flat against her belly as she continued to lick and suck at her, briefing dipping lower to lick at her entrance, pushing in when Aspasia made a broken sound. Aspasia tilted her hips up, giving Kassandra a better angle who gladly took advantage, pushing her tongue deeper, her hands on her ass to keep her in place.

A few more strokes of her tongue and Aspasia was coming hard, her vision going white as she screamed Kassandra’s name, held fast to her mouth as Kassandra kept up her ministrations even as Aspasia shook almost violently as wave upon wave of pleasure wracked her. Aspasia wasn’t sure how long Kassandra kept going, helping her ride out her orgasm until her hips came to rest against the cold marble once more, Kassandra softly kissing the inside of her thigh.

Once Aspasia calmed, she stood up and leant over her, smiling and humming contentedly when Aspasia’s arms came up around her neck, the woman panting, her eyes not yet open as she stroked her sides before gently gathering her and holding her in a bridal carry as she settled back in the warm bath, Aspasia cuddled into her chest.

“Did you enjoy it?’ Kassandra asked softly, making sure the trembles that still wracked Aspasia’s body were from the pleasure and not the cold.

Aspasia laughed breathlessly, her eyes finally opening to meet Kassandra’s gentle ones searching her face. “I did, though I admit, I wanted to kill you for that stunt you pulled.” She smiled and let Aspasia guide her into a gentle and chaste kiss.

“Paid off in the end.” Kassandra mumbled against her lips, drawing another breathy laugh from the aristocrat.

They sat like that for a while as Aspasia slowly came back down from the incredible high. Kassandra, for her part seemed utterly content to sit and relax with Aspasia in her arms. When Aspasia’s breathing finally normalized, she looked up and noticed Kassandra’s eyes were closed, a gentle smile on her face.  An idea came to her and Aspasia smirked, realizing she knew exactly how she was going to get back at Kassandra.

Leaving her arms caused the mercenary to open her eyes, watching as Aspasia settled next to her, a look in her eye that Kassandra knew meant trouble. She reached out and drew Kassandra into a kiss before running her hand down her well-muscled body, enjoying the feel of her and how Kassandra responded to her touch. “Come here.” She commanded, tugging lightly at her wrist to get Kassandra to straddle her. “On your knees.” She clarified when Kassandra settled on her lap.

Aspasia watched her eyes darken in desire, both her hands coming to rest on the edge of the bath on either side of Aspasia’s head. Using her own legs Aspasia widened Kassandra’s stance, a thrill running through her, knowing that in this moment she had absolute power of one of the strongest women in all of the Greek world. “Very good.” Aspasia purred, leaning in closer and kissing Kassandra’s cheek. “Now I hope you’re comfortable because if you move, I’m going to stop.” Aspasia smirked in satisfaction as Kassandra gulped before shifting slightly before nodding. “good.”

She wasted no time, immediately running her flat hand down her chest, pinching and rolling a nipple as she went, through dark curls and finding slick heat. Immediately Kassandra’s head dropped, a strained noise escaping her lips. Part of Aspasia wanted to tease Kassandra, touch her but not pleasure her. The other half wanted to take Kassandra then and there and punish her for teasing her earlier and make her scream her name to the gods. She wanted to unravel the usually composed woman and make her a quivering, dripping mess.  The second half won.

Parting her with her index and pinky finger, Aspasia found her entrance and plunged two fingers in, Causing Kassandra to jerk and gasp, her arms straining as she tried not to move as Aspasia immediately established a rapid pace, each thrust causing her thumb to brush up and down along her clit. The hand not currently between Kassandra’s legs wasn’t idle however, grabbing a breast and squeezing and kneading, drawing out throaty pleas and cries for more.

An idea struck her then and smiling devilishly, Aspasia trailed a path up from her chest until her fingers came to rest around Kassandra’s throat, her grip light and testing. She slowed then stopped her thrusts and waited until Kassandra met her eyes. As much as she loved the control and power she held in this moment, Aspasia wasn’t willing to push any boundaries, she loved dominating her love but there was a big difference between domination and acting callously.  “Is this alright?” She asked softly.

“Yes.” Kassandra replied, her arm muscles relaxing slightly.

“You can always make me stop this.” She flexed her hand slightly. “I don’t want to hurt you or make you uncomfortable. You understand?” Kassandra nodded and Aspasia paused. “I need to hear you say it Kassandra.”  Their eyes met again and Kassandra had a slight smile tugging at her lips.

“I understand. I trust you.” Aspasia’s heart soared at the words. Of course Aspasia knew Kassandra trusted her, but hearing her say it was a rush in its own way.

“Good.” She leaned forward and kissed Kassandra, lingering against her lips as she started thrusting again, slower than before and feeling Kassandra’s breath catch. Slowly she sat back against the wall of the bath, curling her fingers with each thrust and tightening the grip she had around Kassandra’s throat slowly, stopping when she could feel each ragged breath against her fingertips, her pulse hammering against her palm.  Kassandra keened as Aspasia started circling her clit, applying more and more pressure with each pass.

A few more swipes had Kassandra screwing her eyes shut, Aspasia’s name falling from her lips over and over like a prayer. Aspasia added a third finger and Kassandra cried out before biting her lip to stifle the sound, her legs trembling with the effort needed to not rock her hips into Aspasia. ‘She’s beyond beautiful this way’ Aspasia thought, loving every ragged breath, the pulse she can feel hammering away under her hand, every tremble and the prominence of every muscle as Kassandra desperately tried to keep her control and not move.  Aspasia wanted to make her scream her name as she came, wanted to watch her come apart at the seams. “Come for me.” She whispered, curling her fingers so they press against the spot that makes Kassandra whimper, drawing her own name on her clit.

Kassandra lasted all of five more seconds before she came, screaming Aspasia’s name, her walls clenching down as she finally lost control, her arms buckling so her forearms rested along the edge of the bath, her forehead dropping to Aspasia’s shoulder who cradled her head there and continued to thrust in and out, Kassandra shaking in her arms as her orgasm rapidly turned into a second with a cry of sheer pleasure and ecstasy.

When Kassandra seemed to finally relax as the waves of pleasure subsided, Aspasia slowly withdrew her fingers which caused Kassandra to all but deflate, reduced to a quivering mess as Aspasia helped her settle more comfortably on her lap. It was silent as Kassandra got her breathing back under control, Aspasia running her fingers through sweat damp hair. “By the gods.” Kassandra eventually said, finding the strength to lift her head and meet Aspasia’s eyes. “Aphrodite herself could come down to pleasure me but it would never be half as good as that.” She confessed, watching Aspasia smirk in satisfaction.

“And not a single interruption.” She added, making Kassandra grin and shake her head.

“The guards outside must be very red in the face right about now I imagine.” Kassandra replied, making Aspasia chuckle.

“I hope not, who know what sort of rumors will spread.”

Kassandra smirked, quirking an eyebrow. “I’d imagine the rumors would revolve around one or both of us being the most stunning of lovers.”  Aspasia rolled her eyes but hid a smile behind her hand.

“I see that orgasm wasn’t nearly enough to knock your ego down a little.” Aspasia joked, feeling a little disappointed as Kassandra got off her lap and sat next to her, putting on arm over her shoulders and drawing her into her side.

“It appears so. Would you like to try again?” Kassandra offered, smirk still firmly in place. Aspasia leaned in to kiss her, her hand on a strong thigh as Kassandra cupped the back of her head.

“Perhaps. I’ll consider it if you behave and help me wash myself.” Aspasia replied, standing and slowly wading over to the other side of the bath to collect one of the sweet smelling soaps, aware of Kassandra’s eyes on her the whole time.

“That can be arranged.” Kassandra agreed, grinning as Aspasia made her way back over, tossing the soap to the other woman who caught it easily.

“Better be a good job.” Aspasia warned teasingly as she sat on Kassandra’s lap, briefly sinking down to soak her hair before surfacing and letting Kassandra begin to work up a thick lather with the soap before running her hands through thick dark hair.

“Oh, it will be.” Kassandra assured, pressing a kiss to the back of Aspasia’s neck as she moved all her hair tor drape across one shoulder. “It will be.”

[avicebro]

The House of Pelops

Hello everyone. Today we’re going to talk about another child of Leda: Clytemnestra. Besides having the name I constantly misspell, her story is very interesting so let’s go. 

This will go off on a lot of tangents I’m sorry.

Agamemnon’s Ancestors

 We’ve already discussed the birth of Clytemnestra (if you would like to read it you can do so here) so we’re going to talk about her husband, Agamemnon. With that we can talk about one of my favourite things in Greek Myth: family sagas. Often times in myth, if you look at the parents and grandparents of the character, it can tell you something about the character themselves. We’ve seen this with the descendants of Io continuing the cow theme with Minos and Europa, and now we see it here with the House of Pelops.

The House of Pelops is defined by their first son of Zeus: Tantalus. He’s famous for how he must spend the rest of his days: always thirsty and hungry, and always just in arm’s reach of water and food. Why did he end up in such torture though? Well, he wanted to prove that the gods didn’t know anything. So, he invited them to a dinner party where the main dish was his boiled son, Pelops. Zeus was quick to notice that he had served his grandson and punished Tantalus for his imprudence. They bring Pelops back to life but this was only the beginning of the bad.

(Side note: Demeter actually ends up accidentally eating a part of him because she was a little depressed over her daughter being abducted. They make him a new arm and she feels really bad.)

Pelops would have a fling with Poseidon, before going to find a bride. He fell for Hippodameia, but there was a problem. Her father was very protective of her. Only the one that would be able to beat him in a chariot race (the horses a gift from Ares) would be given her hand in marriage. If you lost, you would be killed. 

Not wanting to die and to get the girl, Pelops bribes the charioteer to tamper with the axels. When the father crashed and is on death’s door, he curses the charioteer. The charioteer then turned on Pelops by trying to steal Pelops’ new girl, but he gets yeeted into the ocean, but not before cursing Pelops and his descendants. This would continue haunting the family. 

Pelops and Hippodameia would have three sons. One of these three sons was not a piece of shit: Pittheus. Pittheus was a good king and grandfather to Theseus. Everyone loved him. But his two brothers, Atreus and Thyestes, were the complete opposite to him: vengeful, wicked and violent. 

When Heracles’ commissioner of labours accidentally gets himself boiled alive, an oracle says that a son of Pelops will now rule over Mycenae. But the question is: will it be Atreus and Thyestes? It is decided that whichever son brings the golden fleece will rule. Atreus tells Artemis that he will sacrifice the golden lamb to her if she gives it to him. Like a bro, she does, but then not like a bro, Atreus hides the lamb and sacrifices another lamb instead.  

This ends up backfiring when Atreus’ wife, who had been cheating on him with Thyestes, finds this out and brings the golden fleece to her bae. As the rules are whomever has the fleece rules Mycenae, Thyestes shows up with the fleece and becomes the king. 

Since Zeus was invested in this family and was annoyed that Atreus was not king, he told his great grandson to make a counter bargain. If the sun could be reversed, so it would set in the east, Atreus would be king. Thyestes agrees, Zeus makes it happen, and then Atreus is king again. 

But Atreus is still angry that he’s being cucked by his brother, so he pulls a page from his grand daddy’s book by inviting his brother to a meal. Like Tantalus, son is on the menu. This time it is up to three sons. 

Thyestes would end up gaining the throne again when his son, Aigisthos (who was born by his daughter by the way) kills Atreus, and then he banishes Atreus’ sons—Agamemnon and Menelaus. 

Now We Can Actually Talk About Agamemnon

With the help of their father-in-law, Agamemnon and Menelaus successfully take over Mycenae once more. Menelaus goes back to rule over Sparta with Helen. Some versions of the myth suggest that Agamemnon actually won Helen’s hand, but he gave her to his brother Menelaus as a gift (which is why some adaptations of the myth include Agamemnon ‘taking’ Helen during the fall of Troy, suggesting he wanted her for himself the whole time). Other versions have Menelaus winning her for himself. Agamemnon marries her sister, Clytemnestra, who is known as being hot, but like, not Helen hot. 

Agamemnon would have 4 kids with Clytemnestra, but only three matter to us: Elektra, Iphigeneia, and Orestes. 

Helen’s non-deity daddy made everyone who fought for her love to vow that if someone were to steal her away, everyone would fight to bring her back. So, when she is successfully seduced and or stolen depending on the variant of the myth, Menelaus comes crying to his brother Agamemnon to help him get her back. Agamemnon becomes the head of the Greek army.  

Right as they’re about to head off to fight Troy, Agamemnon does the great job of saying that he’s a better hunter than the goddess of hunt herself, Artemis. This does not make the goddess very happy.  

Artemis retaliates by making it impossible for them to leave for Troy. When asked how they could please her, the oracle tells them that they will have to sacrifice Agamemnon’s daughter, Iphigeneia. Depending on the telling, she is brought to the Greek camp under the pretense that she is being married to Achilles, and that a wedding will bless their travels. She is sacrificed like an animal. Depending on the version of the telling, Artemis can save her and turn her into one of her huntresses or not. 

This makes Clytemnestra mad. 

(side note – some modern retellings of the sacrifice of Iphigeneia include Agamemnon actually being sad and torn over killing his daughter? These retellings also refuse to explain why the Greeks are stranded in Greece in the first place, just leaving it to “Poseidon hates us”. This is to probably make Agamemnon a more complex and complicated character while not realizing what makes him either of those things in the original texts.) 

Return of Agamemnon 

Agamemnon is one of the first people to return from the Trojan War. He comes back, heralded by praises of his military prowess, wearing the royal purple and throwing the spoils of war around. One of these spoils of war is Cassandra. 

Very quickly but for those who are not aware of her myth: Cassandra is one princess of Troy. She catches the eye of Apollo (which makes sense because Troy did like Apollo, which ends up fucking things up for the Greeks during the war) and he tries to get her as his new bae. She says sure: just give me the sight of the oracle, thus to be able to see the future and I’ll date you. Apollo gives her this, and in return Cassandra ditches him. The god is very angry that a mortal played him. So, he makes it so that while she can see the future, no one believes her. 

When Agamemnon is told to come inside by his wife, Cassandra is begging him not to do it. With her curse, no one listens to her. 

Let’s talk about Clytemnestra. So, at this point she’s spent the entirety of her life as the hot-but-not-Helen-hot sister, watching her brothers go on adventures and such, and being married to Agamemnon, which just based on how he is in in the Iliad, isn’t the nicest thing to be married to. Then her husband is roped into a war because her sister gets abducted again. Then when you think your daughter is going to be married to the famed hero Achilles she’s sacrificed because your husband is an idiot. And even when he returns from war and things seem to be fixed, he comes back with a girl. 

All I’m saying is I understand Clytemnestra’s choice to a) cheat and b) convince her new bae to kill Agamemnon. 

Surely her new bae wouldn’t need much convincing: it’s none other than Aigisthos—the guy who exiled Agamemnon and Menelaus in the first place! 

His wife runs a bath for him, and it is there where he is killed by Aigisthos. At the same time, Cassandra is killed by Clytemnestra. 

(Side note: the death in the bath is symbolic for the end of the war.) 

She later has a recurring nightmare of giving birth to a snake. Then, her son Orestes comes home from exile. 

Orestes 

There is a list of things that you do not do in Ancient Greece—having sex with Zeus, trusting Theseus, not sacrificing the thing that you promised the gods you were going to sacrifice to them. In the criminal justice system of Greek Myth, killing family members is considered especially heinous. And at the top of the worst family member you can kill is your mother. Those who capture those who do these crimes are called The Furies. 

Orestes learns that his mother and her new bae have killed his dad. He, in return, pretends to be a bearer of his own death. When Clytemnestra calls for her new lover to share the news, he kills them both. 

(Side note: depending on the version, he doesn’t do it alone, but with Elektra. She isn’t chased by The Furies, however. The Elektra complex is supposed to act as the father-daughter version of the Oedipus complex because she avenges her father.) 

The Furies learn of this matricide and start chasing Orestes so he can be dragged to Tartarus and he can meet his ancestor Tantalus. They chase him from Mycenae all the way to Athens.  

(Side note: it should be mentioned that these myths are from a series of plays, called The Oresteia, written by Aeschylus. It should also be mentioned that the author is from Athens. As everyone loves the myths around the Trojan War, and with The Odyssey, we know that Agamemnon was killed, Aeschylus [and later on others would add on to what happens to Orestes] made it his job to tell the story.) 

Orestes begs Apollo, who feels partially responsible with the whole Cassandra thing and because he also persuaded him to kill Clytemnestra, to help him with dealing with The Furies. He sends him to Athena, because she’s the goddess you go to if you need a plan.  

Athena steps in and decides that he should be put on trial. Apollo acts as his defendant. The judges end in a tie. As the patron goddess of Athens, Athena is given the final ruling. 

She lets him go. Now: why. 

For those who don’t know about Athena’s backstory, a quick summation: Zeus is told that his wife will bear him a son that will usurp him. But she’s already pregnant. So, like any sane King of the Gods, he eats her whole. Then about 9 months later he has this splitting headache. He asks Hephaestus (or Prometheus, depending on the story) to just hit his forehead with an axe. As you do. From his forehead Athena springs out, fully grown up and in battle armour. And everything’s fine.  

Athena rules that since she was technically born from only her father, that for her, and thus in Athens, the father was all that mattered. So, if you want to commit matricide, do it in Athens. 

She renames The Furies into The Friendlies (which sounds more menacing in my opinion) and Orestes is allowed to go free! Yay! 

Notes 

I don’t think I have many notes for this one. Just um, I should write about The Iliad. 

Also the ruling by Athena always annoyed me as a kid.  

[hogwartslessons-blog]

Mythology| Thursday. June 28th, 2018| Lesson Nine: Greco-Roman Heroes and Voyagers

Your first question might be, what is the difference between a hero and a voyager? In truth, not much. Many heroes were voyagers, and many voyagers were heroes. The basic difference is that a voyager went on a long (time or distance wise) journey. That journey did not necessarily have a quest attached to it, as we will see in the story of Odysseus. Heroes, on the other hand, completed great quests or near-impossible tasks generally for the greater good.

Heracles

Heracles and the Hydra

Let’s begin by looking at arguably the most famous of all the Greco-Roman heroes: Heracles (Roman: Hercules). Heracles was, as many of the heroes of the time were, a direct offspring of one of the gods. In this case, Heracles was fathered by Zeus himself, as Zeus needed an offspring strong enough to battle the giants - which we’ll talk about more in our next lesson! The only problem with Zeus’ plan was the intense rage and hatred his wife Hera felt towards Heracles as he was further proof of Zeus’ infidelities.

Through a course of twisted plans and machinations, Hera managed to drive Heracles mad enough to kill his first wife and children. This horrifying action resulted in Heracles being bound to King Eurystheus, who in turn assigned him twelve seemingly impossible tasks in order to repent for his actions. These tasks ranged from killing beasts such as the Nemean Lion and the Hydra, retrieving mystical items such as the apples of the Hesperides and the girdle of Hippolyta (Queen of the Amazons), and labour intensive works such as the cleaning of the thousands of Augean stables in one day. Heracles completed each and every one of these tasks and so was cleansed of the guilt of the murders he had committed.

The twelve labours were not Heracles’ only acts of valour - there were many, many more feats that included rescuing people from the underworld, righting perceived wrongs, and protecting those who could not protect themselves. But for all his greatness, Heracles’ greatest failing was his intelligence, or lack thereof. Don’t get me wrong, if you needed to figure out how to kill a dangerous creature, Heracles was your guy and he would not hesitate to do so. Quite simply, Heracles was very passionate, quick to anger, and almost always repenting for some hasty action that resulted in the death of someone around him.

In a sense, Heracles’ vulnerabilities were what made him the ultimate hero - he still had some human elements to him. So strong was the Greco-Roman belief in his protection of the weak that his name was invoked in numerous protection spells and rituals as both Muggles and Wizards alike believed that doing so would incur his blessing and strengthen the magic.

Another interesting magical aspect to Heracles’ life is actually in the story of his death. When his second wife Deianeira erroneously believes that he has become unfaithful, she sends him a cloak soaked in the blood of the centaur Nessus, who told her it was a love potion. Deianeira was a bit dense, as Nessus gave this cloak to her as he was dying from a wound that Heracles himself had inflicted. While the blood on the cloak did not kill Heracles directly, it caused him immeasurable pain. He consulted with the Oracle at Delphi, who instructed him on how he could die - by lying in a funeral pyre. When Heracles climbed onto the pyre, Zeus sent a thunderbolt to collect him and make him a god alongside his father.

Now, it’s known that Centaur’s blood is in no way poisonous. Suffice to say that the blood was most likely some sort of potion. The potion may have contained Centaur’s blood as an ingredient, but the blood itself was not the poison. Nonetheless, it was so potent as to cause Heracles enough pain that death was preferable.

Jason

The argo

Our second myth surrounds Jason and the Argonauts. While Jason could be seen as a hero undertaking a quest, he is more considered a Voyager as the result of his quest was not entirely successful, as we will soon see.

Jason was a contemporary of Heracles and had been hidden away as his uncle Pelias had overthrown Jason’s father to rule the kingdom. When he came of age, he journeyed back to his father’s kingdom to reclaim the throne that was rightfully his father’s. Along the way, he managed to slay various brigands and beasts, and arrived with many great feats already to his name.

Pelias was afraid that Jason could forcibly take the throne from him, and so concocted a trial for Jason to prove his worthiness before he would give up the throne. This trial was to claim the Golden Fleece from King Aetes - a treasure guarded by a dragon in a kingdom far away. Jason agreed to the plan, and Pelias figured he would never see his nephew again. Once Jason had left, he killed Jason’s father and Jason’s mother died from grief.

The gods, however, were on Jason’s side, especially the goddess Hera. He consulted the oracles before he left, and they not only determined when he should sail, but also assisted in the creation of his ship, the Argo. The Argo was the largest ship to have been built at that time, and was said to have the ability to both navigate and prophecize itself. Now that would have been a piece of magic!

The Argonauts, those young men who joined Jason on his exciting adventure included Orpheus (who you may recall from Ancient Studies last year), the brothers Castor and Pollux (who incidentally were also brothers to the famous Helen of Troy), Achilles’ father Peleus, and several others. Perhaps the most famous was Heracles; however he had a slight misadventure early into the expedition where his shield-bearer was lost and his grief sent him on another impassioned yet pointless search, forcing the Argo to leave him behind.

After several adventures and misadventures (there were Harpies involved. It was messy.), the remaining Argonauts arrived in Colchis, the country where the Golden Fleece could be found. Meeting King Aetes went about as could be expected. He was infuriated at the thought of giving the Golden Fleece to the Greeks, no matter their exchange of whatever tasks he could possibly wish for them to complete. He concocted a plan not unlike the twelve labours of Heracles for Jason to complete, and Jason agreed even though he suspected the tasks would lead to his own death.

Fortunately for Jason, Hera had been pulling some strings in the heavens with Aphrodite, and the latter’s son Cupid had struck King Aetes’ daughter Medea with an arrow causing her to fall in love with Jason. Luckily for Jason, Medea was a witch of unparalleled skill in her time and she used all of her wits and power, plus a few potions, to help Jason tame a wild bull, and best a dragon.

King Aetes was furious when Jason managed to complete the tasks and secure the Fleece. He chased after Jason and the Argonauts as they fled back to the Argo. Medea, who had fled with the Argonauts bringing her brother along, killed her brother and cut off his limbs, forcing their father to stop and pick up the pieces (for no body could be buried missing any parts). As a result, Medea and the Argonauts successfully evaded Aetes and began their journey home.

Both Medea and Hera assisted the Argo’s safe return to Greece, however their return was not triumphant. Jason discovered the death of his parents by Pelias’ treachery, and begged Medea to help him avenge their deaths. Medea did so in quite a horrible way. She brewed a deep sleeping potion and convinced Pelias’ daughters to cut him up into tiny pieces so Medea could cast a spell to restore his youth. So tricked, the daughters unintentionally killed their own father, and avenged Jason’s parents.

Alas, Medea’s plan caused her and Jason to flee from the kingdom to Corinth as they had just murdered a king themselves. And the tragedy only continued from there. Jason eventually fell in love with another woman, and Medea sought out her revenge by not only killing Jason’s new bride, but also the two sons that she had borne Jason. Jason came charging after her to kill her, but Medea leaped onto a chariot driven by two dragons and escaped, leaving him to his sorrow.

And so the story of Jason ends, but not the story of Medea - watch for her as we discuss Theseus at the end of this lecture - as she is a fascinating, and possibly real, historical witch from Greco-Roman times.

Perseus and Medusa's Head

After two rather sad stories full of suffering and the death of children, let’s turn our focus to one of the Greek heroes who did actually have a happy ending.

Odysseus

Odysseus and the Suitors

Our second-to-last myth centers around Odysseus, who was both a Hero and a Voyager. He was also both brilliant and very, very unlucky at the same time.

As a hero, Odysseus was the prime example of a strategist during the ten year long Trojan war. It was he who concocted the plan to build the Trojan horse and hide inside - risking death if the Trojans had decided to torch their gift. Fortunately for Odysseus and the Greeks, the plan worked, Troy was destroyed, and Helen reclaimed for Menelaus, King of Sparta.

Unfortunately, it seems that many of the Greeks became rather full of themselves and forgot their promises to the sea god Poseidon and the goddess Athena who had helped them in their fight against Troy. As the city burned to the ground, some of the Greeks raided the sacred temples of the gods. In Athena’s temple, a Greek named Ajax pulled the Trojan princess Cassandra out of the sanctuary and defiled her. So great was the wrath of Poseidon and Athena that they cast a great whirlwind on the Greek ships as they sailed for home, killing many and stranding others.

While Odysseus was not one of the instigators of the crimes, he was unfortunately caught up in the maelstrom and stranded for almost ten years. After a time, Athena regretted the results of her actions and worked to have Odysseus sent home to his wife and son - arriving twenty years after he had left for war. The journey was fraught with peril. A cyclops, the witch Circe, the Sirens, and several other obstacles blocked his path, not to mention the lingering wrath of Poseidon, who took every opportunity to knock him off course and try to drown him for good measure. Unlike many of the other Greco-Roman heroes and adventurers we have discusses, it was Odysseus’ mind - not his strength - that was his greatest weapon.

Upon his return to his kingdom of Ithaca, he faced the final challenge of removing the numerous suitors that had descended upon his home and demanded to marry his wife, Penelope. With the help of Athena and his son Telemachus, Odysseus once again outwitted his opponents and slew all of the suitors, leaving none but the bard alive. The bard was simply a spectator to these events, and Odysseus believed that anyone with the skills of a bard was blessed by the gods. Not wanting to instigate any further fury from the gods, Odysseus let him go.

The interesting point of this myth is that it favours brains over brawn - something not emphasized in other Greco-Roman heroes.

 Theseus and the Minotaur

Our final myth for today centers around the hero Theseus. I’ve left him for last, as there is great debate amongst wizarding scholars as to the possibility that Theseus and his story are actually historical and not mythological.

Theseus was the son of King Aegeus of Athens, although some say that his true father was the sea god Poseidon. He was kept hidden until manhood in order to assist his father in securing the Athenian throne from a prophesied threat.

When Theseus came of age, he journeyed to Athens, creating a name for himself as a warrior of great strength and moral integrity along the way. Upon his arrival in Athens, he discovered that Medea was manipulating his father. Indeed, Medea saw Theseus as an end to her ability to control the throne, and encouraged Aegeus to kill the stranger. Fortunately, Aegeus had left two personal items with the baby he had fathered - a sword and a pair of shoes. Recognizing these items, Aegeus announced the return of his son and heir, and Medea fled to Asia, where she continued to practice magic.

Sadly, Theseus had returned home during a difficult time for his people. The son of King Minos of Crete had perished while visiting Athens, and the price for not destroying Athens over this incident demanded the sacrifice of seven young men and seven maidens every ninth year to the half-bull, half-human Minotaur found deep in a labyrinth in Crete. Theseus immediately volunteered to be one of the victims in order to defeat the Minotaur.

In Crete, Theseus caught the eye of the King’s daughter, Ariadne, who helped him find a way through the labyrinth of the Minotaur with a ball of string. Theseus went into the labyrinth and killed the monster with his bare hands. He collected up the other Athenians as well as Ariadne and set sail for home.

What happened next is not clear, but somehow Ariadne was left behind on an island where the crew had stopped to rest and replenish their supplies. Some say it was absent mindedness, some say the divine intervention of the demigod Dionysus, but regardless, Ariadne was lost to Theseus. Distraught, he forgot to change the sails from black to white; a prearranged signal to his father that he had survived. Seeing the black sails on the returning ship, Aegeus flung himself into the sea from grief. That sea has henceforth been called the Aegean in his honour.

During his reign as King of Athens, Theseus claimed many other victories, and even fathered a son to one of the Amazons. Ultimately, he married Ariadne’s sister, Phaedra. Unfortunately, Phaedra harboured a very inappropriate lusting for Theseus’ son Hippolytus. Through a series of unfortunate events, Phaedra was turned down by Hippolytus, killed herself, and framed Hippolytus for her “murder”, and Theseus either killed Hippolytus for his treason, or banished him, during which Hippolytus was killed. It was only after Hippolytus’ demise that Theseus learned the true treachery that had happened, and he became ostracized and exiled by his people for killing his innocent son.

Theseus died by being pushed off a cliff by the king of a neighbouring kingdom who both feared Theseus’ strength and detested his actions towards Hippolytus. After a time, the Athenians journeyed to this kingdom to retrieve Theseus’ remains to be buried in Athens as the great deeds he had accomplished for his kingdom outweighed his actions towards Hippolytus.

Scholars today believe that myth of Theseus may in fact be based on a real person, as some of the facts in the story are verifiable: Athens was indeed a commonwealth. Also, there is a significant lack of influence and involvement of the gods in this story, which differs greatly from the other Greco-Roman myths.

If the story of Theseus is indeed true, it then leads to a strong possibility that some of the other myths we examined today are also true. Theseus was known to both house and comfort Heracles after the death of his wife, leading credence to that story. If Theseus’ father was indeed being controlled by the dark witch Medea, that means the story of Jason and the Argonauts could be true. We also know that many of the beasts and monsters in these tales actually do exist, even if the Muggles are not aware of them.

In truth, some of the gods and goddesses in the Greco-Roman world may very have been witches and wizards. Whether they were taken for gods and goddesses given their abilities, or whether they were simply impersonating the divine is unknown. Either way, the knowledge that these myths may be true - at least in part, makes them just that much more fascinating, don’t you think?

Regardless of the hero or voyager, their names were often invoked in magic spells and potion making. As we noted before, Heracles was often invoked for protection, and so was Theseus. Odysseus was often referenced in spells having to do with intelligence and wit, while Perseus and Jason may have been invoked for feats of bravery and adventure. Some of these spells were actual magic work, and some, as we noted in last year’s Ancient Studies class, were simply the work of charlatans. While there is no evidence that invoking these names did anything to the magic, the fact that the Greco-Roman practitioners believed they did was enough to make the practice important for us to study today.

[photomattjames]

<strong><span style="color: #f79646;">The Day I Lost £6,000</span></strong>

How a brand new camera holster helped ruin my life for 48hrs

People ask me, on a regular basis, whether I’m happy living in Copenhagen. It’s an easy answer: yes, of course. Then they ask me why. Again, this isn’t difficult to explain, as there are so many reasons. But in today’s journal I just want to mention one reason, and that’s the honesty of its citizens.

To explain this properly we need to go back to April 2014 – the year when my photography business really started to take off. Just four weeks earlier I had shot my very first race with Sparta, who would go on to be one of my best clients. The shoot required me to follow several hundred runners around a course, which turned out to be quite the challenge. My camera equipment weighed a ton, and I was constantly hopping on and off my bike to take photos. And with each hop-on-off episode I had to take my bag off my shoulders, unclip and unzip, whip out two cameras, take photos, and then put it all back again. It was annoying.

My solution was a ThinkTank Pro Speed Belt – a belt system designed to carry individual cameras, lenses and extras. My setup consisted of two separate holsters: one for my 24-70mm (attached to a Nikon D800) and the other for my 70-200mm (attached to a Nikon D3).

Old men and bulging stomachs

It was a strange sensation wearing the belt for the first time, as the weight shifted from my back and shoulders straight to my hips. I still threw a rucksack on, so I could take my laptop with me to the shoot, but the plan was to leave it at Sparta’s office just before the start of the race.

At 8am I hopped on to my scooter (another new purchase to make getting around the course easier) and scooted on down to catch a train. The B-Line was already full of people when I jumped on board, so I took the only seat I could find – amongst the bikes. These seats fold away when not in use, so I folded it out, sat myself down, and unclipped the Pro Speed Belt buckle (which was being challenged by my bulging waistline).

At the next stop an elderly gent with his bike joined the carriage and I could see that I would need to give up my seat. I stood up and walked in to the next carriage where another seat had become available, and a few stops later I got off the train to catch a bus. And this is when the horror struck me.

What the hell did I just do!

As the doors closed behind me, I suddenly realised that the heavy bag currently on my shoulders was not the camera bag I was so used to carrying. My hands immediately shot to my hips, but of course the belt was no longer there – it was on the train I’d just alighted and speeding towards another part of the country!

Now, I have to admit I panicked at this stage. The first person I called was my girlfriend, as she would be able to contact the relevant transport authorities and explain fluently (in Danish) what had happened and what could be done about it. Meanwhile, I raced over to Sparta HQ to tell them the bad news, and apologise for not being able to take any photos. It was an embarrassing experience.

Next I scooted all the way back to the train station where I’d stepped off the train, and I moved like lightning. I can’t remember a time (before or since) where I’ve been forced to keep going despite being completely out of breath. Obviously the financial cost of losing the equipment was starting to dawn on me and the tears were ready to flow.

When the next B-Line train arrived I promptly enquired with the driver whether she could do anything to help. She radioed one of her colleagues, whom she thought was the driver of that particular train I was hoping to locate, and asked him if he could do a quick sweep of the train. I waited nervously for the response, but it wasn’t good.

"You'll not see that again"

The next B-Line arrived ten minutes later, and I asked that driver pretty much the same question. His response was, “you’ll not see that again!”

When the third train arrived I went through the motions again, and his answer was even worse. He explained that the B-Line went through an area of Greater Copenhagen that was home to a refugee centre. “It was highly likely,” he told me, “that a refugee had found the camera and taken it to the centre to sell on the black market.”

He continued, “The problem was, the police weren’t allowed to raid the place, because of Human Rights, etc, etc.” In hindsight I find this highly unlikely, but at the same I was so stressed out that I was willing to believe the most ridiculous of tales if it meant finding my camera. (It was, in fact, this story that lead me to register my missing equipment on https://www.lenstag.com/)

Over the next 60 minutes I approached each and every B-Line train, hoping to eventually speak with the driver of “my train.” Naturally this did finally occur, and said driver allowed me to search the train front to back. It had now been more than two hours since my kit had been left behind, and the odds of me finding it were slim to none. In that space of time the train had driven all the way to Hillerød – approximately 40km away – and God knows how many people had had the chance to take it with them.

(For those Danes who are scratching your heads, yes I know the B-Line doesn’t run to Hillerød, but it did that weekend due to maintenance)

But during all this time I kept hope that it would turn up in one piece. And it was this hope that was keeping me from breaking down. Somehow I managed to hold it all together… until I phoned my mum.

This was the point that everything came tumbling down on top of me. I thought of all the hard work I’d put in to being a freelancer; all the low-paid jobs I’d done just to get by; I thought of my five-month old daughter and what a loser her dad was; and I thought of all the people who had supported me, lent me money, or waited patiently for me to turn the business in to a profitable venture.

The Power of The Press

I won’t go in to details about my sob-fest, but thankfully my parents were there to support me once more and told me that they’d help me sort it. I needed replacement equipment, of course, and sooner rather than later. I estimated that I needed to borrow at least 60,000 Danish Kroner (about £6,000) to replace everything, but buying second-hand was also an option.

The next day, after a restless night, I cycled in to town to meet some friends and tell them what had happened. It helped, to be honest, as I found myself gradually accepting what had happened and what had to be done.

It was during this off-loading that a clever idea struck me. Every day, thousands of commuters read the MX – a free newspaper handed out in the streets and on train platforms. With such a huge readership, I felt there was a strong chance of jogging someone’s memory. It was a long shot, but I made the call.

Explaining the situation in English to the Danish reporter was a challenge in itself, so I was transferred to yet another who listened to my case. He dealt a small blow when he told me that a printed newspaper wouldn’t be produced for the rest of the week, as it was Easter. But, he reassured me, he would still put it online and hope for the best. I sent him a couple of photos of the belt and its expensive contents to accompany the story.

The Easter revenge of Jesus

Meanwhile, I was cycling to all the Lost and Founds in the city, asking whether anything had been handed it. I was met with the same info regarding the Easter holidays and how it was unlikely anything would get to them until the following week! I probably cried some more when I heard this.

So it was with a heavy heart that I sat down the following day – a Tuesday – and started to fill in a police report. All I really wanted was for someone to check the train’s CCTV footage (there’s a camera in every carriage, so I was 100% sure we could find out what had happened). But I was told this was only possible in the event of a real crime having been committed. This seemed totally bizarre to me; I mean, technically someone had most likely taken the camera equipment (without my permission) so surely this was theft. I know, I know, maybe they had been a good samaritan and handed it in, but the circumstances at least hinted towards a crime.

At around 10am I went in to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. I had the Danish version of eBay open and was preparing myself for a morning of making offers on second-hand cameras and lenses.

As I started to pour, an email alert sounded on my phone, so casually I opened it. The subject header read, “Information about your missing camera!” Now my heart really started beating. I read on. “I’m a dentist based in Hillerød and I took the train in to the office on Sunday morning. I saw a man leave the train at Hillerød Station with your belt and hand it in at the 7 Eleven.”

Queuing for Hotdogs

Now let’s just stop right there for a minute. Try to put yourself in my shoes and imagine how that felt. Against all the odds, and after two whole days of feeling totally miserable, it was like a bright light had been switched on inside my head. I could already hear the engines roaring back to life again, and suddenly the caffeine fix I was preparing for myself seemed unnecessary.

I wrote back to the dentist straight away and got all the details from her before jumping on the train towards Hillerød. Mentally speaking it was the longest journey of my life, and when I finally arrived I rushed in to the store, where there was already a queue building for the hotdogs.

Eventually it was my turn to be served and the words fell out of my mouth in clumsy English. “Amancameinheretheotherdayandhandedoverablackbeltwithtwohugeholsters…” I breathed deeply before finishing. “Is it still here?” Oddly, the girl assisting me thought it would be funny to play a game of “I’m not sure, let me go check,” despite the cheeky smile on her face that suggested otherwise.

She disappeared in to the stock room and the door swung closed behind her. I waited.

There was a heart-warming round of applause in the shop as she reappeared with my gorgeous black Think Tank belt in her hands. Both harnesses were full and heavy, and that was enough to know that everything was present and correct. I ran around to her side of the counter and gave her a massive hug and a kiss on the cheek. The applause continued. When I turned to see their faces everyone looked delighted for me. It was a very human moment.

Updates for all

Back on the platform I took a picture of the belt and sent it to as many people as I could. The joyful responses came in thick and fast, and I suspect I had another little cry. When I got home I hugged my girlfriend and decided to take the rest of the day off. I contacted the MX journalist and told him the good news. I was hugely indebted to them for all their help.

As for the man who handed in my camera, I have no idea who he is or where to find him. I offered him a reward via the newspaper, and via the staff at the 7 Eleven, but he never accepted it. Nor did the dentist who delivered the good news.

When I tell (English) people this story they usually respond the same way: “That’d never happen in (ENTER NAME OF UK CITY).” And sadly it’s very true.

So when you find me moaning about how Danes never hold doors open for you, or have a word for ‘please’, just remind me that none of it really matters. I like them just the way they are!