"Well, as long as you still think I’m
Iris flashed her mistress a coquettish smile and sauntered
further into the beautiful temple she called home. She had
a small room in the back which she shared with three other
handmaidens and when Iris wasn’t on earth this was where
she spent most her time. By Hera’s side, doing her best to
keep the Queen in high spirits.
"I will never understand what you’ve
got against the way I dress. These
are perfectly decent on earth, you
know that don’t you? There’s nothing
wrong with wearing pants every now
and then, my Queen.”
That said Iris still went to fetch her toga, arguing but never
ever disobeying. Fleet feet brought her to the small bedroom
in no time and she snatched the sheer white fabric from a
hanger, bringing it back with her.
"What kind of wine do you wish me to
bring you? Dionysus came by a few
days ago. There’s so much to choose
from Hebe would be confused.”
She would be a fool not to. Iris was rough around the edges
but the girl’s flaws did nothing to dull or diminish the beauty
that unrefined liveliness came with. At first it had bothered
Hera and she’d wasted years trying to shape Iris into the
perfect servant - but with time the Queen had realized it
was best just to let the girl be who she was. At least there
wasn’t a dull moment when Iris was around.
"Iris, I am not going to explain this
again. We’ve had this discussion
a thousand times. Do as you are
With a roll of her eyes Hera watched the girl run off. When
the blonde rounded the corner and disappeared from her
view Hera returned to the altar she’d been preparing. In the
shadows another dozen servants and handmaidens moved
but they all knew better than to show their faces when Iris
kept her company.
"One to go with the figs I collected
from the ga- didn’t I tell you to change
before coming back?”
”You got somethin’ for me today, mam,
or am just supposed to sit here an’ look
pretty? Don’t get me wrong—
I’m good either way. Really, let me
get these boots off and I’m all set to
spend the entire day eating grapes
and watching you work on whatever
treaty, scheme or alliance you are
currently distracting yourself with.”
"If I wanted to decorate my temple with
beautiful girls I would choose the ones
who knew how to be quiet, my dear.
You open that pretty little mouth of yours
far too often for my taste.”
Yet Iris was her favorite. Her favorite handmaiden
and one of the few people who had Hera’s ear. Not
all the time but often enough to earn the girl a bit of
respect around the mountain - despite her otherwise
"Iris, be a dear and keep quiet. It is too
early for this. And for Rhea’s sake, go
and change. You are not on earth anymore
and I won’t have you running around in -
what are those? Jeans? Iris, you know
where your toga is. Go. And bring me a
chalice of wine when you’re proper again.”
"Well, by all means, repeat
your advice again, so I can
take it as such this time.
I’ll behave as I was taught to
behave. I am no lady who
cooks dinner every night, her
children running all about her.
I do not behave as a man,
either. I behave as I was raised;
as an Amazon, and I do not
recall having given you my name.”
"Oh no no, that is not how the
world works, my dear. You do
not get second chances around
"You make it sound like cooking
dinner and looking after children
is less desirable than running around
the forest with a bow and arrow.
And you are wrong, my dear. You
do behave like a man - not an
Amazon. An Amazon would know
better than to greet another woman
with hostility, an Amazon would
honor her heritage; not drag it through
the mud by being rash and impudent.”
The amazons were, after all, called the
children of Ares. Ergo Hera’s own
” Well that’s a matter of debate, but
you honestly think that even if I had
that I would refuse a free meal? “
"It is what it is. When your father was
your age he would walk through those
doors looking like Atlas. You are still
growing, you need to eat.”
The matriarch scoffed but if you looked closely,
very very closely, you could see how she was
trying to hide a smile.
"At least you have your mother’s brains.
Now tell me, what have you been doing
since I last saw you?”
"How? How is this important? Half
of the time we spend the entire
meeting fighting - the other half
we spend listening to your dear
husband’s latest monolog about
his own prowess. I am sorry to
break it to you, my love, but that
is not how I want to spend my time.”
Poseidon’s arms held Hera in a strong hug, kept her close to his
own body. They fit together like the final two puzzle pieces and
looked like they belonged together as well. He had always thought
so, too. Hera was the calm to his tsunami. She was the rock in the
middle of his stormy ocean. When she scolded he laughed, when
he raged she soothed. Together they had been the driving force
behind the Greek’s victory in the Trojan war. Her schemes and his
power. A flawless combination. If only they got along more often.
"You are a cruel, cruel woman, my
sweet sister. Cruel and wicked. Don’t
you see how your words cut me?”
Poseidon laughed and hugged her tighter. He leaned down to kiss
his sister’s cheek before lifting his hands to cup her oval face, pushing
Hera’s brown hair back so he could see her clearly. A warm, fond smile
on his own lips.
"I have, at least, missed you."
"I just told you I do not care how you
spend your time, Poseidon. As long
as your seat on the council is occupied
everything is fine. Send your children
or your wife.”
It took her a while but Hera eventually returned the hug. Her body
was stiff and her arms felt robotic when she wrapped them around
him, unfamiliar and uncomfortable with the display of affection. But
she suspected he’d just hold her longer if she didn’t give in. Standing
there in his embrace wasn’t all that terrible but she still wished for it
to stop. Embracing Poseidon always felt like a gamble. Either you’d
get stuck in the embrace while he toyed with you like a piece of drift-
wood stuck in the middle of the Atlantic or he’d pull you under like a
shipwreck in the Bermuda triangle.
Hera muttered and turned her head to the side when he kissed her
cheek, trying to get away from his persistent affection and show just
how little she enjoyed it. When he then cupped her face she frowned
at him, raising her own hands to cover Poseidon’s. Pulling them down.
"It would be much easier to say the
same if you didn’t insist on irritating
straight boys think girls can’t take compliments, and that’s ridiculous cause i’ve seen so many girls compliment each other, i’ve seen conversations & friendships blossom from girls complimenting each other in line, on the street, at school, waiting for the bus, pretty much anywhere.
the problem is straight boys think sexual harassment & assault are compliments.
Masochism: I’ll write
my/your character being dominated/humiliated by my/ yourcharacter
The second Zeus set foot in her temple one of Hera’s handmaidens hurried to inform her of the familiar and, as always, uninvited visitor. In a hushed voice and with rushed words she’d made sure her mistress knew Zeus was coming their way long before the king actually reached the oval study at the back of Hera’s temple. When the doors opened and he stood there Hera had thus had more than enough time to school her features into a calm, sweet smile – hiding the glee which she felt when it was obvious her little scheme had worked.
”What have you done to me?”
Hera lied smoothly and pushed her chair back, her smile never wavering. If anything the longer she looked at Zeus the more it grew. On the surface he looked the same but oh, she could feel the change. If you looked really close you could see how Zeus had lost some of his glow due to his newfound mortality but that was about the only physical evidence of Hera’s latest trick. At least for the moment. If someone cut him Zeus would bleed. If someone beat him he’d bruise and break. If someone drove a dagger through his chest he’d die. And then Hades would have a field day with him.
But those were all hypothetical situations.
Hera had no intention of actually killing her husband. No, not at all. Yes, the last time she’d used her poison to turn Heracles mortal she’d done so in hopes that it’d kill the boy - but that was then. Back when she had been cruel and vindictive. Now she just wanted to teach Zeus a little lesson.
Her eyebrows rose at the sound of her name. Didn’t he even have the energy to call her out on her lie properly? Were they so lazy a single name loaded with emotion could replace an entire conversation? Had they become that married couple? How dull.
”Fine,” the Queen sighed, ”I may or may not have
convinced a servant slip a bit of poison into your drink.”
”A bit of poison?”
”Yes, a bit of poison. You are feeling the effects of
it right now, are you not?”
She nodded at him and resisted the urge to give Zeus a hard push just to see if he’d fly across the room. Instead she waited for her husband to deny or admit his newfound weakness and rolled her eyes when he only clenched his jaw. Why couldn’t she have married a less frustrating man?
Pop-culture loved to portray her husband as a fool and a villain but they couldn’t have been further from the truth. Zeus was anything but stupid and he obviously knew when it was time to hold his tongue. One such instance being when your scorned wife of a couple millennia has managed to take away your immortality.
Clicking her tongue Hera closed to last decimeters between them and grasped Zeus’ chin between her thumb and her index finger. Once again the urge to strike him had to be suffocated and Hera patted herself on the shoulder for showing such restraint. She wondered if her siblings would’ve done the same had they been in her position.
”Don’t worry. It’s not permanent. It’s just for a
week or two. Three, tops. Ah-ah, that’s not up
for discussion. I couldn’t change it even if I
wanted to so you will just have to stay out of
trouble for twenty four days. Do you think you
can manage that, my love?”
Zeus’ chin was released as Hera ran her hand over his cheek, up to grab a fistful of Zeus’ hair and yank his head back. The brown strands were a shade or two darker than her own and acted as a lovely contrast against Hera’s golden skin. The hiss which left her husband’s lips wasn’t all that bad either. Now she had to admit it felt strange not having Zeus verbally battling it out with her. The silence Hera was met with felt unfamiliar and strange, foreign even. Could it be that he was scared of talking back now that he was mortal? No. No, she doubted Zeus feared her any more than she feared him. But he was more cautious now than ever before, was he not?
A lovely smirk bloomed on Hera’s lips when she pushed Zeus against the wall, keeping his head bent back and angled in what must’ve been an extremely uncomfortable position. But he was more than a head taller than her and Hera was sick and tired of standing on her toes or stretching her neck. It was high time he came down to her level, no? With another yank she forced Zeus to bend his knees until they were eye-to-eye and Hera almost laughed when the first thing she saw was rage.
”Oh don’t look at me like that, my love. How
am I supposed to know you don’t like the way
I’m treating you when the sun’s still shining?”
Hera tossed her head towards the high temple windows and indeed, the sun still shone and the birds still sang. There was no sign of storm, thunder or rain. Not anywhere near Olympus or in the distance. For once in his life Zeus was truly powerless. And the realization of that seemed to hit him once more for he paled considerably and froze up like a marble statue.
With a quiet laugh Hera buried her face against the crook of Zeus’ neck, her fingers slipping down to tug at the hair by his nape instead. Never before had Hera instigated any form of closeness but never before had Zeus been the physical inferior. It was a wonderful feeling, one she wished she could experience every day. Alas, keeping her husband mortal permanently might not be such a good idea. For all his flaws and stupidity Zeus still had some uses. Not that she’d ever admit such a thing.
”What are you doing?”
The tense and suspicious voice of her husband made another laugh fill the study and Hera gave his throat a short kiss before she pulled back to look at him again, cupping his face with her free hand. It seemed like a gentle, harmless caress at first but the illusion soon shattered when Hera promptly pushed his cheek against the cold wall, digging her nails into the side of Zeus’ face. She leaned closer to let her breath tickle his skin when she spoke, lips brushing over the shell of his ear.
”What does it matter to you, my love?
It’s not as if you can do anything to stop
me should you disapprove.”
She dragged her nails down over his cheek, throat and torso. Red scratch-marks appeared in their wake and for once they wouldn’t heal within seconds. It was remarkably satisfying to know he’d be stuck with them for days, that people would be able to see just how weak she’d managed to make him. Remarkably satisfying - and thrilling enough to warrant a few extra scratches.
With a wicked gleam in her eyes Hera made sure to keep Zeus pressed against the wall, kept in place with her own divine strength, while she nestled a dainty hand under his toga. When her digits reached his naked abdomen a bit of magic helped her burn a simple symbol across the warm skin; branding him the same way a farmer would mark his cattle. Unfortunately Zeus didn’t scream when she did it. His jaw clenched and she saw him hold his breath but no scream could he heard. Not when she burned him nor after it was done. Not even a whimper.
”What a pity,” Hera murmured.
”Then again, we’ve got the whole
day ahead of us.”
Voyeurism: I’ll write my/your character watching the other having sex/masturbating. [This is going to be as far from sexual as you can get because Hades/Hera is just wrong.]
”Ah-ah, where do you think you’re going?”
With a wicked smile Hera grabbed Hades’ arm and dragged him back inside the beautiful house by the banks of the Nile. The warm summer air was cooled down between eucalyptus trees and white marble, and cold water sparkled and purled from ceramic fountains. Exotic birds in hundreds of cages sang in their golden prisons while sunlight made their feathers shine. It was a beautiful sight and one might wonder why the soon-to-be King of the Underworld had been in such a hurry to leave.
Of course, if one wondered that one hadn’t looked past the entrance hall. Once you’d gotten to the main hall of the building, to which Hera was dragging Hades once more, you’d notice how the floor was covered in oriental rugs. How pillows were thrown around the whole room and incense filled the air. You might see the musician in the corner, strumming his fingers over harp strings to fill the room with the sweetest of music – and you might even notice the cornucopias overflowing with fruits and sweets.
But the large chaise in the middle of the room was more likely to catch your eye and so were the two men on top of it. Young men, beautiful with golden skin much like Hera and Hades’, and dark hair decorated with golden beads. Young men caught in a passionate embrace which had her brother blushing and Hera smirking.
”There’s nothing wrong with enjoying
all that the mortals have to offer, Hades.
Women – and men.”
She gave her brother a pointed look without letting go of his arm (for she knew he’d try to run again if she did). Ever since they had shared a kiss – a clumsy, stupid kiss – she’d known her brother was… special. He wasn’t like Poseidon or Zeus who’d just take and take without a second thought, giving in to their lust and let it dictate their lives. No, her brother was thoughtful and awkward and – if he wasn’t completely homosexual – most definitely bisexual. She just hoped he’d realize it before he went ahead and did something he’d come to regret in a few decades.
”Just look at them, Hades. There’s no
harm in looking. Aren’t they beautiful?
Narcissus would’ve been jealous had
he seen what we’re seeing.”
She stroked her hand along Hades’ arm and watched him out of the corner of her eye. Her brother seemed shocked and mesmerized as he watched the two mortals, and Hera was once again hit with the realization of how sheltered Hades had been from all things affectionate and romantic. It was a sad, depressing realization and one she wanted to remedy. As quickly as possible.