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zylev-blog · 5 months

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Background info for this post:

Danielle: Diana

Sam: Demeter

Danny: Zeus

Valerie: Artemis

Dan: Poseidon

Vlad: Hades

Clockwork: Kronos

Jazz: Athena

Pandora: Hippolyta

Ghost form: Divine form

————-

Diana was reading in the Watchtower when Danny sought her out. He stayed invisible, but he knew she knew he was there.

“Hello, Father.” Diana said formally, turning the page in her book. “What brings you by? Did Mother kick you out again?”

“No,” He denied. “She didn’t.”

“Okay.” Diana responded, “What did you do this time?”

“I didn’t do anything!” He insisted.

“Who’s that talking?” Barry asked from the other side of the room.

“Father, you may as well show yourself so that it appears that I am not speaking to myself. But a word of caution; you may want to reign in your appearance.” Diana set down her book, looking up where Danny had been invisibly floating in front of her.

“There is nothing wrong with my appearance.” He grumbled.

“Really? What happened to the last mortal you let see you?” Diana cocked an eyebrow.

“His brain melting was not my fault.” He denied instantly.

“Mhm.” Diana waved her hand. “You don’t even remember his name, do you?”

“Of course I do!” He bristled.

“Really? What is it then?”

“Steve Trevor.” He said proudly, “But you know that I won’t remember every mortal fling you’ve ever had.”

“Are you calling me old, Father? Isn’t that like calling the kettle black?” Diana smirked.

He blushed, but only Diana could see it. “I see you are getting wise in your old age. Would that be Artemis or Athena’s influence?”

“Both.” Diana responded, “But the same could be said of it being Grandfather’s influence.”

“I am so confused.” Barry complained.

“Father.” Diana prompted.

“Fine,” He grumbled, shifting to his human form. He had long since reached adulthood, and his human form reflected that. He was 6”6 tall, with spiky black hair and light blue eyes. Stubble covered the bottom half of his face, but it was immaculately trimmed. He wore black armor with a cape made of galaxies.

“Wow.” Barry glanced at Diana, then back to Danny. “Do I bow?”

“That’s not necessary.” He said quickly. “My name is Zeus. It’s wonderful to meet you, Barry Allen.”

“He knows my real name?” Barry asked, shaking Danny’s hand.

“Of course. He is King. He knows all.” Diana smirked, looking at him.

“Do not compare me to my father.” He complained, “I am not an omnipresent asshole.”

“What?” Barry asked.

“See all, know all, that kind of bullshit.” He shrugged, “I’m not God with a capital G.”

“Why are you here if it has nothing to do with Mother?” Diana asked.

“Hades.” He said as Diana stiffened, “He has… become active lately.”

“Is he back to his old ways?” Diana frowned.

“Not completely.” He responded, thinking of the days long since past when Vlad had messed with clones. “Nobody is sure what he is up to, since we can’t find him.”

“That’s not possible.” Diana sat up straighter.

“He gave up his divine form.” He said, “Taking on a new mortal form.”

“That’s…” Diana trailed off, unsure of what to say.

“You see the dilemma, then, daughter?” He asked.

“Perhaps he is turning over a new leaf, as the humans say.” Diana said slowly.

“Do you trust Hades?” He narrowed his eyes.

Diana had no comment.

“Your grandfather doesn’t think you should be involved,” He continued, “But your mortal friends…”

“I will summon them at once.” Diana stood.

“Great, I’m so glad you both pretend as if I’m not here.” Barry complained.

“I am sorry my friend,” Diana looked over at the speedster.

“It’s okay.” Barry shrugged.

“I had forgotten what it was like to speak to mortals. My apologies.” He apologized.

“You don’t remember what it was like to be a hero, Father?” Diana teased, “Perhaps I should ask Frostbite for dementia medicine.”

He rolled his eyes. “Perhaps I should ask him if it’s too late to have an abortion.”

Diana gasped. “Mother would take offense to that!”

“She will,” He agreed.

#dp x dc au #dp x dc writing prompt #dp x dc #dp x dc fanfic #dp x dc prompt #dp dc crossover #danny phantom crossover #dp x dc crossover #danny phantom #dp crossover #dpxdc prompts #dpxdc #dcxdp

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glitchy-anime-fan · 2 months

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This might be just me, maybe I’m missing something, but I feel like some people who criticise EPIC!Odysseus for killing an infant but drawing the line at sleeping with Circe might not be taking into consideration how literally every event Odysseus has face since Troy has affected him as a person and how much guilt he’s continually facing.

To preface; THIS IS NOT ME HATING ON OTHER FANS!! I’m not trying to bully anyone or make fun of anyone, this is just something that has been in my head and I need to rant about it. This also only pertains to EPIC’s depiction of Odysseus, not any other interpretation of the character/story!

[minor grammatical edits made on 2/25/2024)

I saw a discussion on here the other day where the parties involved were talking about the changes made between the original Homeric story and EPIC. One of the main points of contention that I remember was how one of them said it rubbed them the wrong way that Odysseus was fine with killing an infant but didn’t want to sleep with Circe. I can totally understand why this may be an odd choice of morality to make, however, we have to keep in mind that the Odysseus from the Troy Saga is VERY different than the Odysseus in the Circe saga. Troy Saga Odysseus appears to be far more confident in himself and his plans; one could even argue that he’s a bit cocky. As stated by Odysseus in the ocean saga, NONE of his own men died in the battle which would add to Odysseus’ confidence and pride. This is vastly different than the grief stricken Odysseus later in the story, but more on that later.

Now the infant scene in question doesn’t necessarily set in stone Odysseus’ moral/ethical code; one could say the situation itself is an ethical dilemma (a problem with no one right answer). Odysseus is told by Zeus, king of the gods, that if he doesn’t kill Hector’s baby than Odysseus’ entire family (perhaps even kingdom) is in grave danger. However, Odysseus doesn’t make a decision right away, I’m mean the entire second song of the saga is Odysseus mulling over his options; kill an infant or risk his families safety. Neither option is preferable and I think “Just a Man” is meant to show that Odysseus isn’t a man who would readily kill a child, no questions asked, just because he was told to. In “The Infant and the Horse” Odysseus is ready to comply until he discovers that the “foe” he’s meant to kill is an infant. I mean, he literally pleads with Zeus to give him another option;

[ODYSSEUS, ZEUS]

I could raise him as my own (He will burn your house and throne)

Or send him far away from home (He'll find you wherever you go)

Make sure his past is never known (The gods will make it known)

I'd rather bleed for ya, down on my knees for ya (He's bringing you down on your knees for ya)

I'm begging please

Oh, this is the will of the gods

Please don't make me do this, don't make me do this

This part alone shows that Odysseus is, in fact, NOT fine with killing a child. Again, the second song in the saga is Odysseus going over his options and even asks for forgiveness when he finally makes his decision. I don’t know about you all, but I don’t think someone who’s okay with killing a child would ask for forgiveness. In this situation it’s very likely that Odysseus made the choice to protect his family and kingdom above all else, which I feel like is a valid choice in this situation. Odysseus was told, by a god, that him and his family would be killed should the baby live, I highly doubt Odysseus at this point was readily willing to try and call Zeus’ bluff.

It’s also not like the action didn’t affect Odysseus later. Again, I’m sure someone who wouldn’t have a guilty conscience about such a heinous act would ask for forgiveness. Similarly, two songs later in “Open Arms”, Polites brings up Odysseus’ guilt at the end when he says “I see in your face, there is so much guilt inside your heart”. Odysseus is clearly guilty about what he’s done, once again reinforcing that he is not “okay with killing an infant”. You can also pick up on it in the way Jay sings Odysseus’ songs following “Just a Man”; Odysseus seems to be more distracted or distant likely due to the shock of his own actions.

Similarly, we have to take into consideration literally every new traumatic incident Odysseus is faced with between the Cyclops and Ocean sagas. In the Cyclops Saga, Polyphemus kills a large number of Odysseus’ crew which would make this the first heavy loss Odysseus’ army would have faced since the war. I can imagine that this loss would have been a huge blow to Odysseus’ pride given the fact that none of his men died in the war. Similarly, since Odysseus is their captain and king, it’s fair to assume that Odysseus may see the deaths as his fault adding to his guilt.

Not only does he lose many in his crew, Odysseus also loses his best friend Polites which greatly effects Odysseus throughout the rest of the musical. In “Keep Your Friends Close” when the crew is scheming to open the bag of wind from Aeolus, they say “Everything's changed since Polites,” referring to how much Polites’ death not only effected Odysseus but also the crew. Odysseus becomes more and more closed off and distrusting which makes sense since it seems Polites was the one that mainly pushed Odysseus to be more open. This is another death that Odysseus can tack onto the growing list of reasons his guilt is eating him alive.

Side note: Odysseus also looses the support of Athena, his patron goddess following “My Goodby”. Athena has been someone who we can assume (given Athena’s story during “Warrior of the mind”) has been guiding Odysseus since he was a child so, even if Odysseus is no longer happy with Athena’s view on being a good warrior, it likely hurt him on some level to loose her. We have to keep in mind; Odysseus also thought of Athena as a friend not just a goddess and has thought this way since he met Athena. If we assume that Athena and Odysseus have never had a fight this bad until “My Goodby” then I think it’s fair to say that the outcome of the fight would negatively impact Odysseus. He may be too prideful to admit it at the time, but I can only imagine how awful it would feel to loose the support of a friend and patron deity at the same time.

I think one of the biggest blows yet for Odysseus comes during “Ruthlessness” when Poseidon and/or the Laestrygonians sink and kill everyone but Odysseus and his immediate crew mates (as in, the crew on Odysseus ship as apposed to those on the other twelve ships). As I mentioned earlier, throughout the ten years Odysseus and his army were in Troy not one of his men died. This changed when they faced Polyphemus, and only worsens when Poseidon attacks. Odysseus goes from having a crew of 600 (at the start of the musical) to 43 following this attack. Not only does he loose nearly all his men, it’s directly Odysseus’ fault it happened in the first place. Poseidon tells Odysseus directly that they “totally could have avoided all this had [Odysseus] just killed [Poseidon’s] son”.

Had Odysseus just listened to Athena at the time and killed Polyphemus, there would have been no one left to tell Poseidon about the attack; the god likely wouldn’t have known. Likewise, had Odysseus not let his hubris get the better of him and not told Polyphemus his full name, even if Poseidon found out his son had died or was left blind, he wouldn’t have known who did it. The whole situation is directly Odysseus’ fault and Poseidon is very clear in letting him know that. This obviously is going to add to Odysseus’ guilt exponentially since this time it truly was his own actions that lead to this scenario. Not to mention that had Odysseus just apologised, Poseidon might have been gracious to the crew.

Now there’s no saying what that would look like for Poseidon, maybe he would have only sunk one or two ships or maybe he was lying, who knows. The main point is that Odysseus was given another chance to get out of this peacefully, but he can’t swallow his pride long enough to say “I’m sorry”. Odysseus instead tries to talk his way out of it and Poseidon isn’t having it; this is another instance of Odysseus’ actions resulting casualties. All of this happens before the Circe saga mind you.

So let’s review all the instances that would be causing Odysseus guilt so far:

He’s been forced to kill a child to save his family and kingdom

He’s lost his best friend and a chunk of his crew to Polyphemus

He’s lost the support of his patron goddess who he has also seen as a friend since childhood

He’s lost 90% of his crew (give or take) due to his own actions

You cannot look at this and tell me that it would not greatly affect your mental health in any way. Odysseus is being weighed down by an immense about of grief and guilt as the story continues. It gets to be so much that in Puppeteer Odysseus tells Eurylochus that while he would like to leave Circe’s island, he can “hardly sleep now knowing everything [they’ve] done”, directly referring to the guilt that keeps weighing on his mind. By this point in the story Odysseus is so wracked with guilt that he would rather risk his own life to save the few men he has left that add anymore to his guilty conscience.

I see this as one reason why Odysseus rejects Circe’s advances. Odysseus went to save his men who were transformed because he already can’t sleep and doesn’t want to add any more guilt onto his mind. Do we really think he would change this stance just so he could sleep with a goddess? The thought of cheating on Penelope would likely cause Odysseus just as much guilt as leaving his men. This situation poses a similar dilemma to the very beginning of the story; Odysseus can either comply and free his men or not. In this moment Odysseus is in a lose-lose situation, however, he doesn’t let that stop him from trying to essentially create a third option that doesn’t add to his guilt.

And he’s successful this time.

Unlike he pleaded with Zeus, is seems that for one reason or another Odysseus is successful in pleading with Circe; he is able to create a third option for himself and his crew. He’s able to create a reality where his remaining crew survives and Odysseus doesn’t add anymore to his guilt.

Again, this is not about the original story, or other interpretations, this is solely based on what we know from EPIC. In short; Odysseus pleaded and begged with Zeus not to make him kill Astyanax, to give him a third peaceful option but failed. Odysseus is given a whole song about his own moral struggle in the options given to him and is then haunted by the guilt of his actions. He is then faced with the death of his crew due to his own actions, becoming not only a point of further guilt but also a shot at his pride. Odysseus looses Athena’s favour and looses Polities. While Odysseus may have begun to cave to Circe, I believe it was ultimately his love for his family and his desire to not add to his guilt that made him reject Circe.

Odysseus was never okay with killing an infant, he felt guilty likely from the moment he made his final decision. By the time he meets Circe, Odysseus would rather attempt to talk his way out (something that hasn’t actually worked till now) than add to his guilt. I’m truly not sure what I’m missing that, in the context of the musical, this isn’t obvious. Maybe it’s because I’m taking EPIC as its own story and not a one-to-one with the source material, who knows.

Sorry this got really long, I just needed to get it out somewhere before it plaques my mind anymore. Once again, I’m not trying to hate on anyone or bully anyone, this is just my own opinion on the matter!

#greek mythology #tagamemnon #epic the musical #epic the circe saga #epic the ocean saga #epic the cyclops saga #epic the troy saga #glitch rants #I feel like this was an intentional timeline for the musical #maybe it’s just me #idk

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anticomedygarden · 7 months

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drop the champagne

5 times annabeth taught percy something new + a million times he taught her the same thing

title is from the In the Heights song 'champagne' by lin manuel-miranda. mostly a nod to how similar usnavi and vanessa's dynamic is to percabeth. also another excuse to scream about them after watching the trailer a million times

also on ao3

Dozens of kids were wandering around the grounds of Camp Half Blood as they waited for capture the flag to start, and Percy could not for the life of him figure out what was wrong with his armor. He'd been fiddling with it for five minutes now, somehow not drawing the attention of any counselors or even the Athena cabin who he was allied with. After the last capture the flag (still his only capture the flag), he was really starting to get worried. If he successfully completed a quest and died because he couldn't get his armor right for a 'friendly war game', he was gonna be seriously ticked.

Just to see what it would do, he pulled on a strap near his shoulder. For a few seconds, it stayed in place, and he really thought he'd finally gotten it. Then it unraveled completely, and he barely managed to grab it before it hit the ground.

He might as well face it. He was dead, and Chiron was gonna have to tell his mom that he, Poseidon's first child in decades, quester, retriever of Zeus' master bolt, died in a capture the flag accident.

Feeling particularly frustrated, he didn't notice when someone finally saw his dilemma and walked over, not until her blond curls were right in his face.

"You haven't figured out how to do this yet?" she asked. It was hard not to feel a little insulted by her tone, but he had come to realize that she didn't mean anything by it. She just hadn't learned tact yet. (And she'd never admit it, but Annabeth still hadn't quite recovered from the quest and Luke's subsequent betrayal. He could let this one slide for her sake.)

"I've only done it once," he said, "and you did it for me!"

So maybe he wasn't too great at tact either.

She grabbed a strap and started redoing his armor while he watched. "If I keep doing it for you, you'll never learn," she pointed out. "Here." She grabbed his hand and guided it to the other strap. "You try."

He sighed but did as he was told. It didn't look as good as the one she did, but he had to admit it looked and felt much better than before.

"Told you."

He stuck his tongue out at her. Then, since his mom raised a gentleman, he said, "Thanks."

She patted his shoulder. "Thank me when we win."

Percy watched, transfixed, as Annabeth slashed and stabbed, nothing but a vaguely blond whirl, beating some brown haired guy back to the mats until she pinned him down, 90 pounds of pure fury on top of at least 150 pounds of startled teenage boy.

The guy - Percy wasn't sure of his name - tapped out, and Annabeth quickly jumped up, eyes already scanning for her next victim. "Who's next?" she said.

The majority of the people in the training room scurried out after that.

"Cowards," Annabeth muttered and turned to a training dummy.

Percy watched her slash at it for a few minutes, and then, in a courageous move he thought would make his mom proud, he tentatively stepped forward. "Maybe you should take a break," he said with false calm.

She ignored him.

"Annabeth, you're scaring people," he tried, gulping when she tore a large chunk of fake flesh from the dummy. "You're already the best here, why don't you just-"

"Take a break?" she said, finally turning to meet his gaze. Her eyes were blazing, and he had to duck to avoid the dagger still in her hand.

"You've been here for hours-"

"How else will I beat Luke?" she asked. "He's the best swordsman for generations. I have to train as much as I can."

The situation was far worse than he thought. "And you're the best strategist, and you've beat everyone at camp already." Hopefully, appealing to her hubris would help.

It didn't. Her face closed off completely. "But I've never beat Luke."

He didn't ask if she was sure that she even wanted to beat him. He wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.

Fine. Time to pull out the big guns. "I'll spar with you."

He held his breath as she gave him a disbelieving look. "Alright, but you're using a dagger."

"Oh. Uh-"

But she was already walking over to the weapons rack. "You need to learn how to use more than one weapon. You won't be able to use a sword in every situation."

"Isn't the whole point of having a sword that reappears in my pocket no matter what is so that I can use it in every situation?"

She gave him a look that clearly said, You're being an idiot. "What if you're in super close quarters and can't maneuver Riptide? What if you can't get to your pocket? What if someone manages to take it from you? What if you don't have pockets? What if-"

He held up a hand, because, holy crap. "Okay, okay, I get it." She smirked. "Teach me how to use a dagger."

With a certain gleam in her eyes he didn't really like, she grabbed one off the rack and handed it to him.

He gripped it on instinct, balancing it out and dropping into a fighting stance. "Is there anything - oh my gods!"

She didn't wait to give him any instruction before slashing at him with her own dagger, and he barely jumped out of its path. (Thank the gods for his ingrained battle instincts.)

He backed up as she continued her assault and narrowly avoided tripping over his own feet. Then, she delivered a particularly nasty jab, distracting him, and kicked his feet out from under him. His breath whooshed out as his back hit the ground.

"I win," she announced, her ponytail falling and hitting him in the face. Her dagger was pressed against his neck. "You're not guarding yourself enough. Remember, the dagger is shorter than your sword. And you need to actually defend yourself, not just back up."

He made a face at her. "A little warning would have helped."

"There's no warning in battle." She stood and offered him a hand. "Again."

So he got up, and they went again. And again. And again. She beat him every time, but when he came back the next day, he beat the trainer on duty, and Annabeth slept until 9.

That was a win in his book.

"That's so unstable," Annabeth commented, looking at Percy's gingerbread house which, admittedly, looked about 10 seconds from collapsing.

"It doesn't have to be stable," he said. "It's supposed to be fun!"

She snorted. "Fun is for losers and quitters."

Her gingerbread house didn't look like it was about to fall over. Hers was two stories tall with multiple rooms like a doll house and emblazoned with various candy designs: gumdrops on the roof, M&Ms dotting the grounds like gravel, a licorice moat. His was basically five graham crackers in a vague house shape sitting on chocolate icing.

He didn't mind though. They got to eat it in the end no matter what their houses looked like.

Pointedly ignoring her, he stuck a Kit-Kat straight up on the top graham cracker. It stayed for a second, then toppled into the brown icing like a stick in a mud pit.

"Oh, for the gods' sake," Annabeth muttered. She pulled his plate toward her and started rebuilding his little shack.

"Hey, I'm doing just fine," he protested, but one look from Annabeth had him cracking up. "Fine, so it sucks."

"Really sucks." He rolled his eyes, but she kept working until he had a quality graham cracker cabin with standing walls and everything. "See, you don't actually need that much icing to get it to stay. You just need better support."

He made an offended noise. "But that's the best part!"

He knew what she was going to say the second she opened her mouth. "The best part is winning first place."

Before he could retort, he happened to glance up at Grover sitting across from them and couldn't help but notice the look in his eyes. It was somewhere between exasperated and fond.

"What?" Percy asked.

He never heard the answer, however, as the Stolls chose that moment to start a food fight.

And Annabeth's house won first place, because of course it did.

They were lucky, very lucky, to have been walking past the park at the exact time they did. They were also very lucky (or unlucky; jury was still out) to have drawn the attention of the monster to them and away from the large group of children it had apparently been hunting.

"I smell children," the monster whispered, evidently still trying to hide herself. She was semi-transparent, ghostly, actually, with dark hair flowing down her back like a mane. "Such delicious demigods." She continued to amble after Percy and Annabeth as they led her away from the various crowds of people in the park.

Percy turned to Annabeth with a false sense of calm and asked, "What the hell is this thing?"

She glanced behind her surreptitiously. "I think she's Mormo."

"What - like in Utah?"

"Not Mormon, Seaweed Brain, Mormo."

Percy fiddled with Riptide in his pocket. "What's her deal?"

"Sources are sparse and a little conflicted, but basically, she eats kids."

"Oh, shit."

"Yeah, she also might be able to shape shift into a wolf or a horse."

"That's..."

"Wild, I know."

They made it to a relatively empty part of the park, and Percy decided he didn't want to wait to find out if she could shape shift or not. He caught Annabeth's eye and she nodded, already knowing the plan. He would distract while she snuck up from behind. Nothing they hadn't done a million times before.

He turned around. "Hey, lady! Eat this!" Without preamble, he uncapped Riptide and swung out at Mormo, hoping for the element of surprise.

Unfortunately, she ducked.

"So delicious," she muttered. Her form rippled. "The ichor in your blood will taste so good."

Behind her, Annabeth crept up slowly but surely.

"Nah, I don't think ichor would taste that good," Percy said. "Probably too spicy." Now, he was actually wondering if that was true.

Mormo laughed, a sharp, loud sound. "You have no idea child." She sniffed. "You are 16. What a delicious age."

He wanted to protest and say that so far, 16 hadn't been all that great barring him and Annabeth finally starting to date, but his girlfriend was less than two feet away from jumping the monster, so instead he said, "That's so creepy," and watched gleefully as Annabeth leapt forward with her dagger out and sent Mormo back to Tartarus.

Even covered in monster dust, she was still stunning. He held out his hand. "Let's go finish our date."

When Percy got to the New Rome library, his girlfriend was, predictably, surrounded by books.

"Hey, babe," he murmured.

He knew she had been aware of him coming, spatial awareness having become its own sixth sense over the years, so it was no surprise when she responded with nothing but an unintelligible chain of vowel sounds.

He laughed. "You ready to go home?"

A couple years, there would have been no point at all in trying to break through whatever cloud of work was occupying her mind at the moment, but she'd been really trying since the Giant War to not push herself past the point of no return.

"Um..." She put a bookmark in her textbook and started gathering books into her arms. "Yeah, let's go."

"What all are you checking out?" he asked even though he already knew the answer.

"All of them."

He grabbed the remaining books while she picked up her backpack, and they made their way to the front desk.

"What were you reading about?" he asked. He may have just come out of a day full of lectures, but her eyes lighting up like that made the long-ass rant he was about to get so worth it.

"The father of chemistry, Antoine Lavoisier," she answered. "He was alive during the French Revolution and did all kinds of stuff that paved the way for modern science."

They reached the circulation desk, and Annabeth continued telling him all about phlogiston theory and how Lavoisier refuted it, and about oxygen and hydrogen and carbon, and about his experiment to see what two weeks of drinking nothing but milk would do to his body.

At some point, the librarian gave them a funny look. Percy wasn't sure if it was because of the topic of their conversation or because they were checking out so many books.

Whatever. They earned the right to be weird in public.

"...and then he was guillotined for being a tax collector!" she finished with immense outrage.

He frowned and pushed the door open into the lamp-lit road. "Really?" That was not where he was expecting that story to go.

"Yeah, the Reign of Terror chopped his head off, which was a real shame because he was actually involved in a lot of government reform and other kinds of activism, especially in education."

"Cool."

"Yeah, I thought so." She bit her lip. "I guess the good guys don't always win."

He thought that was a little black and white since Lavoisier was a member of the upper class during a time when the lower class was still called peasants, but it really did sound like this guy was pretty chill.

And she had a good point.

He put a hand on her arm. "But we did."

+1 million

Annabeth shifts in the uncomfortable wooden library chair and turns her page, mind lost in thought. Antoine Lavoisier was an upper class French scientist who revolutionized the field of chemistry; he fought for class reform and education equality, and he brought humans' understanding of the world forward from phlogiston theory, the idea that a fire like element called phlogiston was partially responsible for combustion and present in all combustion reactions, to the discovery of hydrogen, oxygen, and a host of other elements, all unique and important.

And he got his chopped off. So much for scientific advancement.

Sensing Percy walking up behind her, she hurries to read the last few sentences of the page.

"You ready to go home?" he asks.

She closes the book. "Yeah, let's go."

They gather her stuff, Percy not once complaining about having to carry five textbook sized volumes, and make their way to the circulation desk.

"What were you reading about?" he asks. She loves him for that. No one else ever asks what she's reading for fear of getting caught in a long-winded explanation of some complex topic. Percy's eyes may glaze over while she talks, but he never tells her stop.

So she tells him about Lavoisier and all his triumphs and woes up until his decapitation, they end up on the street outside the library. It's nighttime already, their path lit with street lamps and porch lights. There's a chill in the air, so she pulls the sleeves of Percy's borrowed hoodie over her fingers while trying not to drop her books.

After she finishes her spiel, she bites her lip and says, "I guess the good guys don't always win."

Immediately, Percy turns to her, probably thinking the same thing she is, about all their dead friends and all their failures. He puts a hand on her arm, stopping them underneath a light. "But we did."

She looks at him and sees her wonderful boyfriend who loves her no matter what she does, who stayed with her after all this time, who fell into hell for her. The one who would choose her over the world. The one who taught her heart how to trust again. She's not quite sure she believes it, but she knows it's the truth. "I guess we did."

They smile at each other and walk home in comfortable silence.

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trinitytrilogy · 9 months

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hi! i just noticed your patreon has no posts anymore? i don’t know much about patreon so i don’t know if that’s something that just happens but if you deleted all your posts on there, does that mean zeus’ dilemma is discontinued?

kfljdskljfk tdlr; not abandoned, i'll have a better post soon, im sorry yall :sob: i feel rly guilty, but there will be an update this month. more below the cut and tysm <3

hi! it's actually lowkey the opposite? i had a Bad Time at the start of 2023, and completely forgot like pretty much everything until i pulled myself out of that hole. i started writing again in july but i figured with the intense delay between my last post and now i should get two chapters out instead of one. anyway, chapter nine is kind of a quicker one (and i had already written the c romance lock and one of the other ro scenes, and chapter eight was previously drafted i just had to edit and add a few ro scenes spontaneously), so i figured why not. i'm also gonna release chapter five publically then, so ive been going back and making sure the first five chapters r as polished as i alone can make them.

if i simply cannot for some reason finish chapter nine by the end of this month, i'll just go ahead with posting chapter eight, so it won't be fully no updates for a while. it clocks in at about 20k words (and the parent scene is not written and will not be written), so its not unsubstantial i hope.

chapters 10&11 are both bigger than 8&9 in theory, but ive already written the romance locks for k&a (which take place in those chapters respectively) so there's a little work done there too. all in all, i'm about 75% of the way done w ZD and i have no plans to abandon it given how much it's taken to get this far,, im just bad w social media bc it gives me a lot of anxiety lol. im gonna log off again until ch. 9 is done (or aug. 31 hits lol), and im sorry if i havent gotten to ur ask, this was literally just the one at the top of my inbox. ik im rambling, but tysm for reading this far <3

i also have a separate message for patrons or anyone who used to be a patron, but that was dksjfkldsjk so i'm so sorry, just bear w me for a bit until i get the writing ready, i have a bad habit of letting guilt overwhelm me and making things worse.

#update

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bisexualpercyjacksons · 3 months

Text

no wait wait wait hear me out about how the four beads is a truly devious and smart addition

so starting off with four beads from the dryad establishes a few things:

1. getting out of the underworld wasn’t something they really thought about yet (too many steps ahead, I also have ADHD I get it)

2. poseidon HAS thought of that problem and has made the beads in preparation to protect them

3. poseiden thought about rescuing sally when planning how to get everyone back safely, not just percy and his friends

2 & 3 plant the seeds (a long with the dryad’s words and hermes’ comments) that poseiden really does care about percy (and sally!). yes I know I know, bare minimum to care about your kid etc. but considering this is a show and we don’t get percy’s internal monologue it kinda makes sense to have a little more details that make poseiden seem better to the audience

[read more break to not clog up the tag. I promise I get into the angst shortly]

all these little bits that imply poseiden really does want to be there for him but can’t, that he’s been watching from afar because he didn’t want zeus to find out he broke the pact and take his anger out on his son and former love (yes, love! this is the man/god that wanted sally to be his queen with him in his underwater kingdom!!!). I actually really like the idea of those posts about how he has been helping out in little ways over the years because. let’s be real for a second. NO WAY does sally afford that apartment AND have the ability to send percy to specialized boarding schools with the salary of a CANDY SHOP EMPLOYEE. I get it I get it, the gods are deadbeats, but I’ll admit I kind of like the idea that he’s been doing what he feasibly could without getting caught by making extra money appear in sally’s bank account or sm

making him seem (and possibly be) more sympathetic is another reason that fuels percy to change the system rather than join luke to tear it all down. he knows the system is bad but he sees hope and truly believes it can be changed for the better. that is something that can be saved, not destroyed

4. this is kinda irrelevant but I like that it is the dryad that agrees to give percy the pearls after poseiden says for him and his friends to go back to camp because she wants him to have a chance to change things. gives her a little bit more agency. (also y’all she’s SO pretty in gay but moving in)

so. four beads.

if we want to keep the dilemma and character growth that comes with there only being three beads and someone having to make a sacrifice, something needs to happen: one of the beads breaks or someone loses it

is it percy? who has realized they need four beads for EVERYONE to come back and is horrified that they now only have three, meaning either he himself or one of the most important people to him has to be left behind in actual hell in order for the world to be saved? think about the dread and self-loathing that would come from that

or is it annabeth or grover? where the horrifying realization is the same but now there is a gut reaction from percy to be upset with the person who loses/breaks it. he loves his friends and can’t stay mad at them but now they are in this impossible dilemma to choose who stays behind and it’s killing all of them. the impossibly guilt of the person who breaks/loses it knowing that it’s their fault someone doesn’t get to go home, someone has to stay behind in the underworld

and when does this happen? early on, and we spend the episode watching them all try to figure out the dreadful problem of who gets left behind. looking at each other thinking, I can’t leave them behind, I can’t. they’re my family. but we can’t leave percy’s mom behind either.

or does it happen right before they have the chance to go, and they all think everyone is going to make it and sally is in percy’s grasp only for everything to fall apart and now everyone is looking at each other thinking, who is going to have to be left behind? who has to be the sacrifice?

anyways, I think there is something truly devious about them KNOWING there NEEDS to be four beads and HAVING THEM only to have something happen and the option of everyone going home safe being ripped from their grasps

#I let my English muffin sit in the toaster oven for like five extra minutes after it dinged to finish this post #everyone being like FOUR BEADS IM WORRIED and I’m like NO THINK OF THE POTENTIAL #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson #pjo #pjo tv #pjo tv spoilers #pjo 1x06 #pjo speculation #grover underwood #annabeth chase #sally jackson #not sure how else to tag this #mine #I haven’t read the books in a decade so I’m slightly rusty on lore but like guys this is how we can still win #yes I know deadbeat parent gods yes but have you considered this makes things more spicy #adds more flavor #also yall this man wanted to make sally his queen you gotta admit that on some level he cares

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syrma-sensei · 2 years

Text

→ Servitude with Benefits.

pairing: Marc Spector x fem!reader.

rating: smut; explicit, dark.

warning: gods complications, sub Marc Spector (sub Marc is criminally underrated)

word count: 2.5k

summary: Marc Spector is trapped in an eternal debt for Khonshu, the ancient Egyptian deity of the moon, but being the god's daughter's pet isn't that bad.

→ masterlist | ao3

The hotel room Marc has rented in Cairo isn't large; it's cheap and practical, and most importantly: not eye-catching. It's been another day of chasing Harrow's men and coming back with nothing. Another tiring and frustrating day again. It's been like that since the day Khonshu has claimed him as his avatar, hasn't it? Marc muses. Unrelenting, unsatisfied, as always. Perhaps Harrow is right after all — No, Marc knows that Harrow is right regarding Khonshu. But what else can he do? Marc is in debt to the latter, and most likely, this would carry on for the rest of eternity. Plus, he can't live with the fact of leaving Harrow succeeding in reviving Ammit without him doing anything about it even if he hates it.

Marc sighs, then looks at the covered mirror, the one he somehow has smashed it with his fist. He doesn't exactly remember, but thankfully, Steven isn't here to make his day worse by demanding him to return the body. Marc isn't actually going to give Steven control any time soon, not before the dilemma with Harrow and Ammit is done at least. Besides, it is his body after all, and he wants to have some tranquility without being trapped inside again. That's why he's covered everything may reflect his image.

Marc truly doesn't want Steven to get involved in this, but what happened happened, and they're both in this shit. In Marc's shit. He lets out an elongated sigh.

“Seems Father's giving his loyal avatar more than he can endure.”

Marc scoffs a bit, hearing a distant yet very distinguish, mocking voice.

“It's nothing I can't handle,” He hisses, ramming his eyes around to locate the sound's source. He smirks when he does, staring unabashedly at the certain spot even though there's nothing — nobody there.

“Father says you're incompetent,” The voice sneers, becoming closer and closer, until Marc feels reminiscent of fingers brushing to his cheek, “But I strongly disagree...”

“Is that so?” He remarks, clasping the supposed, invisible hand and kisses the ghostly knuckles, “Then show yourself to me if you truly mean it,”

A wide, conceited smirk quirks Marc's lips as you appear before him with your floating robes, they're flapping slightly as if breeze leering them faintly, except there isn't any. He likes it.

“Nice to see you again, sweetheart.”

You giggle, “You too, Marc darling,”

Marc presses another kiss on the back of your hand, his gaze never leaving yours. An amused expression is on your face as he keeps on trailing a line of kisses along your arm up to the side of your neck. You giggle again.

“God, I've missed you,” He grumbles against your skin, still pressing sloppy and soft kisses to your neck.

You grin, “If you mean Father by God, I'll be so disappointed,”

His chuckle vibrates to your skin, “It is confusing tho, isn't it...?” You find a playful smirk on his face when he draws back to gaze at you. His face is tired, dark circles around his eyes, and his sharp cheekbones are gauntly visible. Isn't Father healing his avatar with his powers? Odd, why would he leave him in such poor physical condition even though he quite knows that others shared Marc's body.

“There are many gods nowadays, don't you agree?” He snickers, languidly caressing your sides with his large hands, “God, Yhwh, Allah, Odin, Ra, Zeus, even one of them is an avenger too.”

You guffaw at the notion, finding it sardonically funny.

“I mean the male gods are indeed a disappointment, aren't they? Even when they appear to be 'cool' at first. ” You say amusedly. You've told him about Thor at some point, the young god is one of your friends, but his avengers buddies never heard of you from him. Shame. “Fathers is no exception.” You add.

The playful arch of his eyebrow makes your heart flutter. Gods, you love it when he does that.

“Men are always a disappointment, baby,” Marc asserts, “And 'm no exceptio—”

“Far from it,” Your fingers get plunged in his luscious hair, lost in the dark and thick sea of soft hair, “You're not a disappointment at all, Marc,”

He shakes his head, averting his eyes elsewhere, “Yeah, tell that to—”

“I do not care.” Hands cradling his cheeks, you crush your lips to his. Marc melts into your mouth almost instantly, as you sip and brush his lips with yours. Strong hands fumbling on your hips as your heads sync and chase desperately.

“I don't care what Father says, what you say,” You whisper between the kisses, “Oh, Marc you don't even know what you truly deserve,”

Marc stops, lips quivering, still starving for more, you can see his struggle.

“I only deserve the pain your father provides me,” He breathes out, “Nothing more. 'm nothing but his slave.”

“No, Marc, no,” You jeer, “You may be my father's avatar; Moon Knight,” You fondle his cheek softly, “But you're my slave, not his, only mine,”

Marc looks at you in the eye, his breathing growing heavier, tongue darting out to moisten his lips.

“(Y/N)—”

“Shhh,” You put a finger in his lips, silencing him as if it were a spell. Marc gazes at you in awe, “Adress me as you should,”

Marc's body caves in, you already own him and have him around your fingers.

“G-Godess,”

You shudder in delight, and you kiss him again. Marc is less defiant now; more gentle, more succumbing.

It's been with Marc like this since the beginning. When you've taken immense liking into Khonshu's new avatar; he is a fascinating mortal, and you deem him worthy of your attention. Despite your father's twisted methods, you can see why he insists on keeping Marc as his fist of vengence. Marc's brute, vigorous... a true warrior, it's all true, but you... you fathom a very different side of him your father doesn't see, or pretends to not see and ignore it, taking advantage of his agony, sometimes; his broken soul. Despite your mother's upbringing of you, you're your father's daughter too. You know Hathor is going to be disappointed when she gets to know what her daughter's been doing to the poor man; enchanting him into a sinful web of indulgence. A dignified goddess shouldn't be toying with a lowly mortal. However, Marc Spector is a putty in your hand; you practically has casted a spell upon him, and the man is entirely bewitched by you.

It turns you on when you watch him from afar, as he summons your father's healing armour and gets his justice done. How he ferociously annihilates evildoers and brings your father's wrath and vengence upon sinners in order to protect the travellers of the nights. But when with you, the wild beast kneels before you in all submission that even your father hasn't obtained from him. You touch him deeply, he finds quietness in your presence that imposes him to give himself up to you; dedicate himself to you.

“Take your clothes off, Marc,” You moan against his lips, “Take your clothes off for your goddess, and let me admire you...”

“Yes, my goddess...” He rasps.

As a goddess, you have no interest in humans, or so what your mother has drilled into your head since you were a child. But again, since the moment Khonshu has taken you under his wing, you've come to realise that Hathor and the other gods are wrong. And you take sick pleasure in proving them so.

Marc has mesmerised you, and he's wrapped you around his fingers just the same way he is around yours. And you, you have no ounce of regret to be ensnared by a formidable mortal such as himself.

Once topless, Marc glances at you. Smirking, you wave your hand in a gesture and reminiscent of cuffs and shackles cling to his wrists and ankles, tethering up to a spiky collar around his powerful neck from behind. Marc groans, dropping onto his knees when you order him to. He growls, an animalistic sound befits a beast like him. Your precious and dear beast.

Your floaty dress molders away provocatively, shred by shred; your levitating form perching, flat feet on the ground. You sway your hips loitering down towards him, till you're standing right before Marc whose eyes are dilated in awe; dazed. Eyes locking in intensity, soft hand stroking his cheekbone while his Adam's apple bulges as he swallows hard. Your fingers skim through his hair again, playing and twirling, whereas he's still looking up at you in anticipation. Your father's vicious wolf has turned into a hankering puppy at your feet.

You caress his chin, thumb brushing his lower lip, then his cheek again, he leans in, grunting, “Let me worship you, goddess, let your servant deify you...” Marc kisses the pad of your palm, flaring impatiently as his lips graze your skin, “Please,”

You chuckle lightly as Marc's face dipping forward, already breathing in your wet scent, that's when you splay your legs for him.

“Oh, Marc, show me...” You try to balance your breathing as Marc's tongue flattens against your slit, “Show me how good of a slave you are...”

Marc grumbles, and you can sense the quivers throughout his body. With his hands behind his back, he struggles a bit on his knees and the tip of his shoes, but that never stops him, he buries his head between your thighs as his tongue continues to lap your damp folds. You buck your hips for more connection, the tip of his tongue cuddles between the grooves of your flesh, pressing and sliding adroitly and deliberately. Marc uses his lips too, sucking and kissing on the feverish pearl.

“M-Marc,” Your mouth is wide open, eyebrows knitting together in a tight hug, your grip on his hair fastens. “Marc, my l-love, ahhh,”

His nose nudges your clit as his tongue slips downwards to your hole and fucks you with his master muscle. It's as if he's born to serve you, worship you; if it's ancient times, he'd make the perfect high priest for you, demonstrating his servitude for you everyday, every moment.

You can sense his hands agitate where they're secured on his lower back, itching to touch you, the muscles of his biceps twitching and rippling under a thin layer of sweat; your walls clench around his tongue.

The wet, lewd sounds erupting from his mouth on your nether lips make you shudder.

“You're close, goddess?” His voice is amused, a hint of mockery tints it even.

“Yes,” You answer hoarsely.

“Cum for me, baby,” Marc almost implores you, “Cum on your servant's face, goddess,”

Your head snaps, thighs shivering and squeezing his head as he doesn't stop. Marc chuckles at your high-pitched screams.

You clutch his head and jerk it backwards, “You... you...” You say through fluttering eyes, his smirk makes you smile. “You bastard...” You huff.

Marc's grin widens and it doesn't help the racking sensations ruining your being. Overwhelmed, you crouch down and slam your lips against his, tasting yourself off of his mouth. Marc grunts as he loses balance and trips over on his back.

Working on his zipper, you wave your hands again; the chains vanishing, only cuffs restraining his wrists up together.

“Baby, please...” He moans, the sound is so delectable to your ears, “Need to touch you.”

Far too consumed by the lust, you oblige to his wish as you bring his painfully hard cock out. Greedy, starved hands grope you roughly, you like it. He kneads your breasts, pinches your nipples before taking each in his mouth. His calloused, well-trained palms work wonders on your ass as they wring it.

“Marc...” You sheath yourself down on him, reaching the base of his shaft. He hisses painfully as your hungry drawers clench around him tightly.

“Just like this, goddess,” Marc's mouth shamelessly snaps open in a loud groan. “I'm all yours...”

Rolling your hips, you lean down into his face, kissing him sloppily and erratically, chasing eachother's lips frantically. His hands land on your bottocks, guiding your pace up as he moans your name over and over. You know he's close. But suddenly, you feel yourself being lifted up, your erected nipples make contact with the floor. On all four, Marc pounds into you from behind, his chest against your back, and his hips slamming into yours.

“You're fucking beautiful,” He whispers into your ear, grabbing your jaws to turn your face to the side so he can assult your lips. “Fucking perfect, my goddess,”

It ravishes your being when he takes control, when you find yourself at the mercy of your own beast, when you know you've driven him feral enough to dare to do this. You love it.

“Marc! Marc!”

You feel his dick twitch inside of you, and he reaches a hand to your clit, playing languidly with it.

“Cum on my cock, goddess,” He chokes out, “Fucking squeeze me with your godly cunt,”

Your knees and hands grow wobbly and he has to balance you with one strong arm. He releases his seed inside of you, roaring like a wild animal next to your ear, that's when you practically squirt.

Both of you slump in eachother's hold for moments, before you blurt out, “Wish you were my avatar,” You turn around, wringing his dick with your walls. Fingers tracing his handsome face in a random pattern, “Your only job would be to make love to me all the time...”

He chuckles, chasing your fingers with his lips playfully, “I still can fuck you whenever you desire, goddess...”

“But if so, you'd only be bounded to me... only mine to serve and worship me... and only me.”

“I'm already yours, baby,”

You cup his cheeks, lowering his head to you, “I like to completely own what I love.” You tear up.

Marc quivers and shuts his eyes close, “Baby, please—”

“Do I own you, Marc?”

The latter dips down and plunders your lips in a powerful kiss, making your moan smother.

“Completely, utterly,” His hand immerses in your hair as he pulls you into another wild kiss. “I only belong to you...”

#marc spector x reader #marc spector smut #marc spector x you #marc spector #moon knight fic #marvel moon knight #moon knight x you #moon knight x y/n #moon knight imagine #moon knight smut #sub marc spector #moon knight #moon knight fanfic #moon knight x reader #marc spector headcanons #marc spector imagine #marc spector fanfic #marc spector x y/n #marc spector fanfiction

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thewhizzyhead · 1 year

Text

wait so like, I'm just checking out more of Epic The Musical and like,,,is "Just A Man" aka a song that establishes Odysseus' tragic character and the beginning of his many dilemmas and hardships starting with being commanded by Zeus to kill Hector's infant child,,,is thAT SONG with all the spirit of all the penultimate acts both thematically and musically,,,IS THAT REALLY SUPPOSED TO BE THE SECOND SONG OF THE MUSICAL? because damn. that's quite a bold introduction. i'm intrigued.

#NO LIKE LEGIT LISTEN TO THE THING #I WOULD COMPARE IT TO HURRICANE FROM HAMILTON BUT LIKE HURRICANE HAPPENS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE SECOND ACT #JUST A MAN HAPPENS IN THE VERY BEGINNING OF THE MUSICAL AND I DON'T KNOW HOW TO PROPERLY PROCESS THAT FDSJFJD #it's certainly an unconventional move because like when i first listened to it (without prior context abt odysseus killing hector's boy)#i thought the song was supposed to be like the emotional 2nd act climax or some shit #LIKE LISTEN TO IT JFDHD IT'S NOT WHAT YOU NORMALLY WOULD EXPECT FROM AN INTRODUCTION #ITS VERY INTENSE FOR AN INTRODUCTION IS WHAT I'M SAYING BOTH MUSICALLY AND THEMATICALLY #because u know odysseus having to kill an infant child because greek god stuffs #but then again wow having that intense fucking song and dilemma as an introduction to the musical and odysseus' story #is very bold and very striking and i would like to hope that the rest of the musical would follow that set up #so anyways epic the musical is definitely interesting ooooohh #epic the musical

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readerinsertsaremyguiltypleasure · 1 year

Note

K & 15 for my most beloved Billy!!💖💖

congrats on 500!! 🎉

Thank you very much 💕

Just a heads up, this one mildly smutty.

K. Only one bed 15. 'Don't stop on my account.'

---------------------------------------

‘Any luck?’ you asked Billy as he returned from the hotel reception desk.

He shook his head and held up two key cards. Two key cards, but for just one hotel room.

You knew for a fact that two rooms had been booked for this Anvil business trip. You had been the one who booked them. It was part of your job as Billy’s personal assistant.

And you were very good at your job.

‘They must have lost the other booking,’ said Billy. ‘And now they’re all full up. So we could either run around the city looking for another hotel that isn’t booked solid because of this damn Star Trek convention…’

‘Star Wars,’ you corrected automatically.

‘… or we could just share.’

Sharing a hotel room with Billy Russo was a very dangerous idea. He was a walking wet dream, and it was hard enough keeping your fantasies controlled at work, let alone in a luscious hotel suite.

But it was quite probably your only option.

You took one of the key cards with a sigh.

‘They had better give us a voucher for the mini bar or something.’

----

The one saving grace of this whole mix up was that at least it was Billy’s room that the hotel still had record of. It was much nicer than the one you had booked for yourself. You had never been one for overindulging, but you knew Billy was the complete opposite, and whenever you went away on business, your rooms reflected that.

Billy always insisted you spoil yourself, so maybe this was your chance.

The room was a large suite with a living space, balcony, bathroom with a spa bath so deep you could probably swim in it… and a bedroom with one king-sized bed.

‘Hope you don’t snore,’ joked Billy, lightening the mood.

He was good at that. It was one of the things that made him such a great boss.

‘Right back at ya,’ you said with a laugh. ‘Wanna see what movies they’ve got?’

‘Only if it’s one of the naughty ones.’

He winked and you felt your whole face heat up.

‘You wish,’ you said as you threw a pillow at him.

Billy laughed and caught it easily.

----

The movie you watched wasn’t naughty, but the same could not be said for your dreams. Those consisted of very naughty thoughts indeed, and all of them starred the man your mind and body knew was lying next to you.

A lot closer next to you than when you had gone to sleep apparently.

When you woke, it was to find that you and Billy had gravitated towards each other in your sleep. So much so that your legs had become tangled up together and you were pressed right up against his chest.

But that wasn’t the most embarrassing part.

No, the most embarrassing part was that while your mind had been dreaming, your body had reacted to those dreams… and Billy’s thigh wedged between your legs was providing the perfect kind of friction as your hips rolls gently against it.

You froze and then slowly lifted your head, hoping to see that Billy was still asleep and oblivious to your dilemma.

No such luck.

You looked up to see his gazed fixed on you and his lips curled up into a smirk.

‘Don’t stop on my account,’ he teased. And was it your imagination, or did his thigh press a little closer?

You closed your eyes, silently wishing that the bed would open up and swallow you whole or that the almighty Zeus would strike you down with a bolt of lightning. Anything that would save you from the mortification of having been caught dry humping your boss’s leg in your sleep.

Oh God. What if you had said his name? You had no idea if you talked in your sleep, but if you had, there was only name that would have passed your lips.

When no miraculous and immediate death came, you figured you had better pull yourself off him before the lawsuits started, but your leg barely moved before Billy’s hand was on it, pulling it back.

It was then that it dawned on you that he hadn’t pulled away either. And he’d had plenty of time to do so.

‘Don’t stop,’ he repeated, this time far from teasing, and he used his firm grip on your leg to pull you closer.

‘Billy?’ you questioned, unsure.

He silenced you with a kiss that was somehow both sweet and dirty. ‘God, Y/N,’ he breathed once he had pulled away. ‘I knew sleeping next to you was going to be torture, but I didn’t think you’d make it this hard.’

‘Was that a pun?’ you asked, still a bit dazed from the kiss.

‘It was the truth.’

A smile slowly spread across your face. ‘You want me, too?’

You suddenly found yourself on your back, Billy hovering over you. Your legs weren’t tangled together anymore, and he ground his hips into yours. You both hissed as his very impressive erection pressed against your core. Even through your clothing, it felt amazing.

‘I’ve wanted you since the first day you walked through my office door,’ he said. You could tell by the intensity in his eyes that he meant every word.

‘Then what are you waiting for?’ you asked. You weren’t sure where the bravery had come from, but you were way past caring. ‘Take what you want.’

Billy’s face lit up at that, but you only got to see it for a moment before his lips were on yours again in a kiss that was full of promises.

You were going to have to send the hotel a gift basket for their mistake.

#billy russo x reader #billy russo smut prompts #billy russo x you

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interact-if · 2 months

Note

Hello! Do you have any IF suggestions similar to Zeus' Dilemma? So, greek mythology but specifically about demigods

I miss Zeus' Dilemma but maybe it's discontinued? Regardless, hope for the best to the author!

Hi Anon, we already have recommended list for demigod characters: List 1 and List 2.

But do let us know if you know others that fit this category as we will add them in the lists, thank you so much!

#interact if asks

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the-metatron · 3 months

Text

A Consultation with the Doctor

I reached out to my dear friend the Twelfth Doctor about my current predickament involving my children @angelo-rib-shack and unborn baby that also turned out to be Angelo.

The Doctor wasn't particularly pleased to see me. He was upset that I'd brought him on the Maury Show (he must not be a fan of daytime television). He wouldn't even let me into the TARDIS--which, honestly, was likely for the best considering if he had we probably wouldn't have much of a conversation.

So, on the doorstep of the TARDIS, I explained my dilemma to the Doctor. I don't want to abandon baby Angelo in the past to suffer, but I fear if I don't the Angelo I adopted after 44 years as an orphan will no longer exist.

The Doctor shook his head and glared, clearly frustrated with me. He said he'd warned me about interfering in the past when I first asked him to back in time to 1978 to confront Zeus. I don't recall his warning, but to be fair, I was a bit preoccupied by our strip poker game with Missy.

I asked him what I could do to rectify the situation. Was there anyway to keep both my Angelos? @god-in-the-basement mentioned multiple timelines. Would that truly be so bad? A universe in which baby Angelo was raised in a loving home all his life? How could that be wrong?

At that the Doctor just sighed. He didn't seem angry or disgusted. Just disappointed, which was honestly worse. He told me that there were fixed points in time. Events in history that should never be changed, or everything--the entire universe--would go wrong.

But Angelo--the baby in my belly--is just one child. One small human. (Well, part human, at least. Also part Abrahamic Angel and part Greek God. But that's neither here nor there.) How much of an effect could one person have, really?

I asked the Doctor this and he said, "More than you could ever imagine."

Now, I've been alive thousands of years. Even longer than the Doctor. There is quite a lot I can imagine.

Still, the Doctor's words haunt me. I could still hear them echoing, over the Doctor slamming the door in my face. Over the screeching of the TARDIS fading away into time and space.

I failed to heed the Doctor's warning about interfering in history last time and am currently paying the price. I must not--cannot--fail to heed his warning again this time.

I know what I have to do.

(Now if only The Doctor hadn't just disappeared dramatically with the TARDIS. I really could have used his help going back in time again to give birth.)

#the metatron consults the doctor #the metatron speaks #the metatron's pregnancy #the metatron is pregant #the tale of two angelos #the metafam #the metafamily

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love-of-fandoms · 2 years

Note

This is probably a bit of a silly request (assuming they are still open! If not feel free to ignore!) but in the interest of torturing Blood of Zeus!Poseidon a little I was thinking following the events of the Referee Poseidon, you know, trying to dodge Hera's wrath, makes an effort to be nice to Reader. He gets on the wrong side of Aphrodite, however, who uses her abilities to "amplify" an attraction to Reader to extremely...distracting levels. Now, Poseidon isn't crazy enough to try and bed a Reader romantically involved with both Zeus AND Hera, but I can't help but think it'd be fun to watch him squirm a little as he grapples with the idea ;D (Bonus points if Zeus and Hera eventually catch on - I imagine Hera would be unamused while Zeus would probably cackle at his brother predicament lol)

A/N I still love these three so OF COURSE I'll write more for them!

The Game

The Referee

It had been a couple of months since the whole “Poseidon throwing a golden net over your lovers and you” situation, and the sea god had deemed it safe enough to return to Olympus. You found yourself avoiding him, wanting to avoid the awkward feelings that would come from seeing him again after your last encounter. You knew your lovers would find neverending amusement from watching him stumble through interacting with you, but the idea just made you tired.

He was in the gardens one day at the same time as you and Hera. She had wanted you, as her favorite nymph, to show her your favorite flowers. It was very sweet of her to want to spend this time with you, and you enjoyed pointing out the different patterns in nature and which ones you preferred to mimic in plant form. Or at least you enjoyed it until Poseidon was walking towards you two, a bouquet of all things in his hands. He called your name first, then greeted the queen with a short bow.

“I wished to apologize for my grave lapse in judgment the last time I was here,” he said, holding the bouquet out towards you. “I hope you understand my intentions were well-meaning, but my actions were out of line-” he trailed off as you gently took the bouquet from him, turning and dropping it to the ground. His face fell for a moment before a bush sprouted from the bouquet, each type of flower showcased among its emerald green leaves.

“Apology acknowledged,” you muttered before stepping behind Hera, half-hiding behind her. The Queen smiled saccharinely at her brother-in-law, placing a comforting arm around your shoulder as she began to lead you away.

“That means they don’t wish to talk to you, dear Poseidon,” she said over her shoulder, voice icy-cold. The sea god flinched, but nodded and walked the other way.

“Brother!” only to run into the other third of his dilemma. “I saw that,” he motioned behind Poseidon, an amused smile on his face. “Trying to get yourself into our sweet nymph’s good graces?” Poseidon tried not to react.

“Only wishing to set things right,” he muttered gruffly.

“Or perhaps trying to get yourself into our sweet nymph’s bed?” he prodded, delighting in the flush that overcame Poseidon’s cheeks.

“I would never! I-”

“Perhaps that’s why you decided to terrify them the last time you were on Olympus,” Zeus prattled on. “Not like you to be jealous, hmm brother? Not that I can blame you, they were moaning so sweetly for us-”

“Zeus!” Poseidon tried to cut his brother off.

“-I’m sure you found her beautiful, didn’t you?”

“That’s not the point-”

“Didn’t you?” silence followed, and Zeus smirked. “Well?”

“Yes,” he muttered gruffly, unaware of the goddess listening to them on the other side of the rose bush. “Your lover is one of the most beautiful creatures on Olympus,” Zeus smiled cheekily, yanking an apple from a tree and taking a bite.

“I know,” Zeus turned and began to walk away, leaving his brother with some parting ‘wisdom’ “Do enjoy your stay on Olympus! Try not to throw any more nets over anyone!”

Poseidon glanced back over his shoulder, seeing you still conversing with Hera on the other side of the garden. A gust of wind blew past him then, carrying rose petals and the scent of myrtles. His pupils dilated as he stared at you, and he found himself alarmed at the sudden attraction he felt towards you. He hadn’t been lying when speaking to Zeus, you were quite beautiful, carnations and lilies scattered throughout your hair, no doubt a nod to your lovers.

He took a step towards you, wishing once more to set things right, though this time less out of a sense of self-preservation and more out of some irrational need that coursed throughout his very being. A need to be on your good side, to become close to you-maybe as close as the king and quee-no!

He abruptly turned the other way, hands massaging at his temples to stave off the oncoming headache and confusion.

Aphrodite giggled from her place behind the rose bush. She couldn’t harm you for Poseidon’s ignorance: saying a nymph’s beauty equated to that of her and the other beautiful gods and goddesses of Olympus? Ridiculous! If she wished to retaliate by harming you, Hera and Zeus would have her head. Poseidon, however… She had a feeling Zeus and Hera would only reap amusement from the sea god’s new raging attraction to you.

That night at dinner, Zeus and Hera were indeed amused at Poseidon’s constant attempts to speak with you. You were sat at Zeus’ left, Hera on his right while Poseidon sat to your left. You gave short answers, still immensely uncomfortable with his presence, even more so now that he wouldn’t stop talking to you.

“I noticed earlier you were speaking with the queen about what plants you enjoy,” he began. “Have you ever had the pleasure of seeing the coral reef?” he asked, and you shook your head.

“No, my lord,” you mumbled, moving the food around your plate disinterestedly. You did try your best to be polite to the sea god, smiling at him when appropriate and occasionally adding to the conversation enough to avoid insult.

“I would be honored to show you sometime,” he mentioned. “I personally find it more beautiful than the gardens of Olympus,” you smiled politely.

“I appreciate that very much, my lord,” you said. “However I’m sure my friend Althaia would enjoy it even more! She’s a naiad charged with the protection of the Corinthian Gulf, and has always wished to see more of the ocean!” He seemed to remember himself then, glancing around the table and meeting the amused gaze of Zeus and the pointedly less-amused gaze of Hera.

“Ah, of course!” he scratched at his beard. “I suppose a dryad such as yourself would wish to stay on solid ground,”

“Indeed,” you mumbled with a smile.

“Poseidon!” Zeus called, reaching a strong arm around you to clap his brother on the shoulder. “I’m glad to see old grudges are behind you,” a flush came to Poseidon’s cheeks.

“Well, yes, I-” he began gruffly, but Hera cut him off.

“I do hope you aren’t trying to steal our lovely nymph from us,” she raised a perfectly shaped brow at him, and the flush spread to his entire face, then. Not that much of it was visible behind his beard.

“Of course not, my queen,” you awkwardly shifted closer to Zeus, who laid a comforting hand on your thigh, giving it a squeeze.

“May I be excused?” you leaned over to softly ask him, and he nodded, giving you a soft kiss on the lips as you rose. “I’ll be in our chambers,” you moved to give Hera a kiss as well, missing the way she smirked at Poseidon. She could see the way he was shifting uncomfortably in his seat, and decided for once she would be the one to tease her husband’s brother. Her hand rose to cup your cheek, drawing you in for a deeper kiss, indulging in your taste more than she usually would in public. You didn’t complain, meeting her with a happy sigh before you reluctantly pulled away.

“We’ll join you shortly, my love,” she whispered to you, and you nodded, finally leaving the room.

“Won’t you join me for a walk before I retire? Husband? Poseidon?” Hera urged, and while Zeus immediately rose to do so, Poseidon shifted in his seat for a moment, adjusting his robes before standing. Hera looped her arm in Zeus’ leaning up to whisper in her husband’s ear.

“Your brother seems to be quite taken with our lover,” he chuckled.

“Oh yes, it’ll be fun to watch him hide those embarrassing boners the next few days before he returns to the sea,” he said, and Hera joined in his chuckle.

“So long as he does not get too bold and make them uncomfortable the same way he did at dinner,” she raised her voice to a normal speaking tone as she said this, hearing Poseidon’s footsteps falter behind them before continuing.

#blood of zeus x reader #Blood of Zeus #Hera x reader x zeus #boz x reader #boz hera #boz zeus #boz poseidon #boz hera x reader #boz zeus x reader #requests

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