#Hermione of Sparta would not have stood for this.

[dootznbootz]

The fact that when most people hear the name, Hermione, they think of TERF JKR's character, instead of the Cool OG Greek Mythology Figure, Hermione of Sparta, daughter of Helen and Menelaus of Sparta, fills me with an ungodly amount of rage :)

[nausikaaa]

WIP Wednesday

thanks for tagging me @forabeatofadrum! i’m a little late posting, but finally found some inspiration to write again, so here’s some of a new perspective from my post-troy novel- Hermione. context below the cut as always!

All in all, I was thoroughly unimpressed with my husband, and his awkward mannerisms were beginning to grate on my already exposed nerves. And then he did something that did more than just irritate me. He stood up, walked away from me, and joined the dance.

I didn’t move a muscle, but I could feel eyes on me. This is ridiculous, I thought. Dancing was for young girls, not men such as him, small and lithe as he may have been. I wondered if he intended to humiliate me, or was he truly oblivious to the ways of the world? I knew he grew up on an island, isolated from the rest of Greece, but this was unorthodox by any standards.

He leapt and whirled with seven women from Skyros, ranging from barely his elder to just over a decade older. They all shared his ginger hair and blue eyes- his aunts, and there in the centre, his mother, Deidamia. I thought she ought to be ashamed of herself, a widow, dancing! Her skirts flew around her, her feet barely touched the ground, and she laughed and laughed as she took her son by the hand and spun him round.

I took a small sip of wine and hoped my veil would hide the red of my face. My grandfather made furious eye contact with me from across the hall, as though this shameless display was somehow my fault, while my mother had the audacity to clap along with the beat. My father didn’t even seem to notice anything amiss, deep in conversation with one of Neoptolemus’s advisors.

I cast my eyes skyward and silently prayed he would get whatever this was out of his system by the end of the song and return to my side, where I would pretend to be amused by his antics to save face and return to the silence we had been comfortable in before, but the song came to an end, a new one started, and he didn’t stop.

I downed the rest of my wine and waved a slave over for a refill.

i love writing Hermione so much, i think anyone who reads my carry on Agatha fics can tell i just really enjoy writing from the perspective of a total bitch (affectionate)

Hermione is the daughter of Helen of Sparta/Troy and her first husband, Menelaus. after the war she was married to Neoptolemus, also known as Pyrrhus, the son of the hero Achilles and a hero (or war criminal, depending on your persuasion) in his own right.

Hermione had been engaged her entire childhood to her cousin, Orestes, but sources vary on which man she loved. whatever the case, Orestes eventually killed Pyrrhus and took Hermione by force.

the interpretation i chose to go with is that Hermione and Pyrrhus’s relationship begins very strained, Hermione has very rigid ideas about what is proper while Pyrrhus, having grown up surrounded by young women and then losing any remaining childhood wonder he may have had when he was drafted for the war at 15, likes to cut loose and buck tradition.

eventually, they manage to find common ground- the expectations they have grown up under due to their parents. Pyrrhus is the son of the greatest warrior the world had ever known, but he hates violence and can’t stand the sight of blood, for all he was forced to endure it at Troy. Hermione is the daughter of the most beautiful woman in history, but she resembles her father and has a very strained relationship with her. after this, they grow close and have a loving relationship, but Hermione struggles to conceive.

after only 4 years together, Hermione suffers a miscarriage, prompting Pyrrhus goes to Delphi to pray to Apollo, who has cursed him. Hermione also carries a family curse, but there’s nothing she can do to end it, it’s built upon generations of infanticide and cannibalism (the House Of Atreus is wack), and there he is killed by Orestes, who then goes as kidnaps Hermione.

Hermione’s POV ends there, but we see from Astyanax, the main character, that she eventually escaped Orestes and went back to Skyros, Pyrrhus’s home country, the place she was happiest, where she was accepted as the Queen by his aunts and the people. so a bittersweet ending.

and here’s what Hermione and Pyrrhus look like, in this scene and 4 years later:

fun fact: Hermione’s hair is short in the first picrew because Spartan girls would cut it short for their weddings. Spartan men and women lived very segregated lives as men were raised in military barracks since childhood, and both young men and women often had gay relationships with others their age because there just wasn’t the option to be with someone of the opposite sex. so the short hair was both a symbolisation of rebirth for women but also to ease men into heterosexuality 😂

for a late wip wednesday or next six sentence sunday, i tag @otherpeoplesheartachept-2 @ileadacharmedlife @ionlydrinkhotwater @martsonmars @confused-bi-queer @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @bazzybelle @castawaypitch @ivelovedhimthroughworse @gekkoinapeartree @erzbethluna @facewithoutheart @sillyunicorn @moodandmist @tea-brigade @whatevertheweather @stillgeekingout @wetheformidables @onepintobean @basiltonbutliketheherb @theearlgreymage and @whogaveyoupermission

[vinatintasupernovita]

“Isn’t she darling?”

The voice broke War out of her trance, if only for a moment. Helen, Queen of Sparta, stood at her side. She chuckled at the look on her long-time lover’s face as she was busy staring down at the crib before them.

“Look,” She said, “She wants you to hold her.”

The she in question was Princess Hermione, Helen and Menelaus’s first daughter. Menelaus never wanted children, not really, only an heir to pass on his legacy. He felt Hermione was good enough, for now. They’d try for a prince once Hermione would be old enough to survive without constant need of attention from her mother- who said that she would not allow her one and only child to be raised by nannies.

Helen on the other hand loved children. She was the youngest of her family, and as such never had any smaller siblings to look out for. So the idea of a child fascinated her. She wouldn’t of picked Menelaus to be the father if she had a say, but by the gods’ will he brought her Hermione, so maybe he wasn’t a complete waste of marriage.

War never understood children- she didn’t need to. The only children she had ever observed were Cain and Abel, and well- we all know how that went. Nonetheless, she didn’t spend any time around children, much less a baby. Even much less the baby of her lover and her lover’s worthless husband.

Hermione looked so much like Helen, from her warm brown skin to her dark, loose curls. She had her father’s nose and eyes, but her mother’s smile. It was clear from the way she giggled and gurgled when she caught sight of War and Helen standing before her crib. She would laugh and make noises as she reached up at them.

War would just stare at the baby, unsure of what to do. She wouldn’t harm her, clearly. Hurting children was just gauche. Even then, when she looked at that baby she felt a deep clawing rawness at her very being. She couldn’t name it, but it wasn’t pleasant. It was definitely sprung from the fact that she knew what Helen and Menelaus had to do to have a child in the first place, and how it made her blood boil. But, whatever it was, War couldn’t bring herself to do much more than acknowledge little Hermione.

“C’mon now.” Helen urged her. “Pick her up, Scarlet. She adores you.” War was not someone that anyone should adore, but with her luck the most beautiful woman in the ancient world did- and now, so did her daughter.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” War asked. Helen nodded, and so she looked back down at Hermione, swallowed dryly, and took her in her arms.

Hermione wriggled like a worm as War tried to adjust her in her arms as to not drop her, cursing under her breath the entire time. Helen just watched, a smile on her face as War finally got the hang of holding her.

She held her small head and neck in one hand and her body in the other, cradling her closely in the same way she had seen Helen do for the last few weeks. Hermione made indistinguishable baby noises, but War could guess that she sounded happy.

“My two loves.” Helen smiled softly as she placed her hand on War’s cheek and stroked it softly. She couldn’t help but smile back.

Though, the tender moment would be interrupted by a handmaiden coming in to tell Helen that Menelaus requested her presence in the study. She tsked but nodded at the same and dismissed her.

“Scarlet, can you keep an eye on her for a moment?” Helen asked. “I’ll be right back.”

“Sure, love. Hurry back.”

And with that, it was only Hermione and War.

War pulled her from her body and looked down at the little princess. She was chewing on her own hair, reaching her stubby little fingers out to reach for War, gurgling as she did. War could almost chuckle, even she had to admit it was cute.

“You’re a funny child, aren’t you?” She said while going and sitting on one of the small chairs in the nursery.

War set Hermione down on her lap, just as she had watched Helen do earlier. Hermione made a loud ‘ah!’ sound, and it startled War- was she hurt?- but it was followed by a giggle and a squirm, so she assumed that she was fine.

“Your mother will be back shortly, so don’t worry. You won’t be stuck with me long.” She said as she waved a finger slowly in front of the infant’s face, to which Hermione was quick to grab it with all the strength in her tiny hands. “Oh, you’re a fighter huh?” War chuckled as she watched her pull on her finger. “I bet one day you’ll grow up and destroy anyone in your path if you’re already trying to fight me, little one.”

Hermione laughed, and War smiled. She then used her free hand to stroke her head softly, making sure to pull her hairs from her mouth.

“If only your good-for-nothing father was a better swordsman, then maybe you’d have a better mentor. But, don’t worry, I’ll teach you. Learn from the best, right?” She would make a bubble of agreement that War accepted. “Right..”

And though she tried to enjoy the baby’s company, she couldn’t help but feel that gnawing again. That same gnawing that had made her avoid Hermione in the first place. There was no avoiding her now, she thought, as she was actually starting to like her.

“It’s not your fault.” She said quietly. “You didn’t ask to be born. No one does. It’s just the fault of others that brings new life into this world.” Hermione only stared at her with huge brown eyes, but War continued. “I shouldn’t put that on you. Your father, sure. Your mother.. she only does what she feels she has to, even if there’s other ways. And then there’s you, caught in the middle. Suppose we’re not so different in that sense.”

War sighed heavily as she looked away from Hermione, feeling her ancient body heave for a second against the pull of time and space. She knew that she’d eventually outgrow the palace- whether it be through a scourge or through the quiet death of her first love, followed by a silent exit in the night as if she had never been there in the first place- but sometimes it was hard to picture the future, even for an eternal being.

Had you asked her two years before, she wouldn’t of been able to picture Helen ever having a child, much less with Menelaus. War knew the royal customs, she understood it, and she didn’t hold it against Helen- at least, she didn’t think she did. She couldn’t hold it against Hermione either. Because even that tiny little baby would be dead and gone one day, the grand palace of Sparta would crumble with the heavy sands of time, and all that would be left of its memory would be War, in both senses. And something about that? It cut deep, but she chose to ignore it.

“It’s never going to be easy, is it?” She muttered- not to Hermione, but to herself. She sighed through her nose and shook her head. “I’ll manage. I’ll have to.”

The baby babbles caught her attention again, and so she went back to entertaining Hermione with the jangle of her golden bracelets- they were presents from Helen, funny enough. War smiled tiredly as Hermione laughed.

She didn’t even notice the door open, or see Helen standing in the doorway, watching them with her heart full. If only it could stay like that forever, she wished. Peaceful, sweet..

But fate had different plans for them.

[ofprevioustimes]

What being ‘of Sparta’ means to Leda

The biggest difference between Leda and my other Spartan muses (Helen, Hermione) is that Leda became “of Sparta” through marriage rather than heritage. This means that Leda’s upbringing was drastically different from theirs. Thinking back on the Achaean kingdoms, Sparta stood out for the position of women in society. The model of Athenian democracy in Ancient Greece might have seemed attractive in comparison to the Spartan’s strick way of life. There is a reason why in modern language we still use the word ‘spartan’ as an adjective for austere, strict, severe, etc, but the Athenian way only really worked for men (I’m not even going to discuss the issue of class, to prevent getting sidetracked). If you were a woman in Ancient Greece, Sparta was the place to be. 

Leda is a woman of ambition. Her father was a son of Ares and through this heritage she has a warlike, passionate nature. When instructing her daughters on marriage, her words would go along these lines: “Do not expect it to be easy, because it never is, but you will do well because Laconia has given you gifts that I never had”. This is not victimization. Leda has a good relationship with Tyndareus, despite her love for Zeus. The point is that she wishes that she was born of Sparta, because it is a land where she is able to exert her power and to have real, effective influence.  Leda is also not as skilled in hunting and fighting as her daughters are because she was not raised to be, though she certainly would practice and develop some skill after moving to Sparta. 

She needed no convincing to advocate a spartan way of life. No wonder. To think that the other city-states fed the girls less than the boys and kept them locked in their homes and that Leda saw her own daughters being equally fed and just as influential as their brothers, that the girls were free to exercise and even flirt must have proven an impactful contrast to her own upbringing. 

That’s not to say that Ancient Sparta was an utopic feminist paradise, but that’s a very meaningful difference, I suppose.

[writings-of-a-hufflepuff]

Ship Fics Masterlist Part I

All Masterlists

Note: Some of these, notably on AO3 are super old, so don’t judge me too hard haha.

If it says 18+ it means 18+. Please respect adult writers who wish to keep children and teens away from their adult content.

Eddie Munson x Cassie Ward (OC) (Stranger Things)

Not My Idea of Fun - She’s not sure why she agreed to come to this stupid party, it’s really not her scene. Luckily for Cassie, her neighbour, Eddie always seems to be around to play the knight in shining armour when she needs him too. 

Fred Weasley x Hermione Granger (Harry Potter)

Page 558 -  Hermione admires the twin’s fireworks and has an odd sort of conversation with Fred that makes her think.

Diana Prince x Steve Trevor (Wonder Woman)

Hospital Beds -  Steve is alive and while they're both surprised neither of them care. They have more time now.

Point to Prove -  Steve Trevor has many doubts while recovering under the care of Diana. So many doubts. Stupid doubts that he shouldn't have.

Musings over Ice-Cream -  Steve Trevor muses about what Diana is and means because of ice-cream.

Closer -  Boats do get quite cold in British waters.

Roxy Morton x Eggsy Unwin (Kingsmen) 

Good Girl - Rated: E. 18+. Do not read if you’re under 18 or I will find you and lecture you.  Roxy has gotten pretty good at hiding how much it effects her when he praises her, calls her a good girl. Until she slips up.

Dummy -  Roxy hopes Daisy likes her, she thinks the little girl is pretty great. Eggsy thinks they’re both pretty great.

Little Talks -  “What’re your parents like?” 

Once, Twice, Three Times An Agent -  All he cares about is Roxy and making sure that she's alive and okay. That she's more than okay. But he’s terrified that she won’t be.

Hugh Collins x Dorothy ‘Dot’ Williams (Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries)

Stray -  “I didn’t realise you approved of boxing, Dot.” She has him sit down at the table, it’s obvious no one has looked at the cuts all over his face and if anyone is going to do it it’ll be her. “I don’t…but I don’t mind watching you.”

Keyleth x Vax’ildan (Critical Role)

The Sun In My Afternoon Sky -  Vax contemplates his feelings for Keyleth, his internal struggles, his wants, his desires, and most of all her.

You’d Make a Terrible Rogue - Keyleth sneaks (badly) into Vax’s room at night when she’s cold.

Female Sole Survivor (Nora) x Nate (Fallout 4)

Greek Fire -  She couldn't breathe without them...

Female Shepard x Joker (Mass Effect)

Tumblr Prompts: Evelyn Shepard/Joker - Just a collection of prompts. 

The First Time She Said His Name -  She'd never called him by his real name before...not in all the years he knew her...not before her death...

Selene Shepard x Garrus Vakarian (Mass Effect)

Pheromones - Selene’s a little confused about something Javik says to her, she naturally asks her Turian boyfriend about it.

Kassandra x Brasidas (Assassin’s Creed: Odyseey)

Beyond Reason or Doubt - Rated: T. Blood was thicker than water, people often told her, and she would protect her family, she would rebuild it and reclaim it. She would tear down every cultist that stood in her way, that threatened the family she was putting back together again. She would kill for them. She would die for them, but a certain Spartan spy had shown her that family did not have to come from blood, that love...love was stronger than any blood bond she had.

I Don’t Care Where I Go When I Die - Rated: T.  “Do you ever wonder where you will go…” Brasidas is contemplative, head leaned back, face turned towards the ceiling of his home, the one she has invaded each night since her return to Sparta despite her mother’s questioning, despite the looks from Alexios and the furrow of Nikoloas’ brow.

Naia Brosca x Varric Tethras (Dragon Age)

What’s the Hero of Fereldan like you doing in a place like this? - Rated: T.  Naia Brosca does not expect to meet the Viscount of Kirkwall in a dingy little tavern like the Hanged Man. She doesn't expect to have her sorrows soothed or have a free therapy session from him either. But, her life had always been anything but ordinary.