#pythia things

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

"Dom Annie" you say?? strap in for a nsfw bonus, sez I! 😏

It occurs to me that I haven't been posting abt this much on the tumblrs, and if you care about stellarverse spoilers stop here, but I have squarely ended up in Jercabeth Endgame Hell. I don't know all of the specifics yet, but I DO know their first threesome consists of Annabeth domming Percy as she fucks him with a vibrating strapon and Jason watches, sketches and occasionally fucks with the remote to remind her he's still in charge~

(Under the logic that maybe subbing and domming at the same time might actually get her to stop overthinking so hard. Also because Jason is a voyeur. 🥰)

Thank you for the love in the tags aaaah!!!

IM GOING TO NEED SEVERAL LORD OF THE RINGS LENGTH NOVELS DETAILING EVERY SINGLE NANONSECOND OF THIS WHOLE SCENE OH MY GODDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD IM IN PAIN I LOVE THEM

[melancholic-pigeon]

Leftists on tumblr: listen to marginalized people about their own oppression

Jewish person: X thing is super antisemitic

Those very same leftists on tumblr: OH SO YOU SUPPORT MURDERING BABIES THEN? GENOCIDE APOLOGIST

Jewish person: here's an exhaustive list of sources going back thousands of years proving that X is antisemitic.

Leftists on tumblr: Doesn't count, colonizer!!!!!! /gets X tattooed on their forehead, puts an X bumper sticker on their car, calls people Genocide Supporters when they say "hey X is not allowed here because it's antisemitic"

Leftists on tumblr: "Why do Jews keep complaining about leftist antisemitism? I don't see it; it's clearly a distraction from talking about those Noble Savage Palestinians. Prove to me you're oppressed, X! X X X X!! CHANTS X FROM THE ROOFT0PS"

Jews: we don't super trust you guys not to call for our extermination, since you have repeatedly at every past opportunity

Leftists on tumblr: Look, I know antisemitism is annoying, but now is not the time to discuss blood libel when those Evil Jews are eating Palestinian babies!!! HASHTAG X

Jewish person: *rubs forehead as Turning from les mis plays in the background* (nothing changes, nothing ever can / round about the roundabout and back where you began)

Leftists on tumblr: SEE? THEY WON'T EVEN HAVE A GOOD FAITH DISCUSSION WITH ME 😭

Leftists on tumblr: "anyway discussions of antisemitism are a DISTRACTION. I am good person who is being very helpful and only hurting bad people who deserve it, like those filthy Jews— I mean zionists"

Leftists on tumblr: Why, oh why are people calling us antisemitic? 🥺

[apollosgiftofprophecy]

was thinking abt cassandra n apollo bc 💔 love them and yk its become even stranger to me how it’s treated as like. some failed romance of apollo’s all because he couldn’t take rejection. because it wasn’t ever really a rejection? like they both agreed to a deal, she just didn’t uphold her end. like consider how relationships were treated in the past as transactional, and this specific exchange being a trade for prophetic powers—can we really even consider the idea that there is any sexual/romantic attraction towards each other? of course i know there’s a mutual level of devotion, but i’ve personally interpreted it as a complicated relationship between a devotee, her faith, and her god. it’s something transcending sexuality or romance. and their failed trade is a lesson on expecting too much from the divine without yourself being fully committed to them. all i’m saying really is that i think watering their dynamic down to some rejection story is silly and ruins the religious symbolism like there IS a reason that she is his priestess before and after!

(also thinking abt it: the exchange is soo symbolic its actually driving me nuts. he gives part of himself to her and she gives part of herself herself to him in return. a god and a follower’s mutual devotion to one another.)

anon your interpretation is soooo based let relationships transcend the meaning of romance and sexuality fr fr

biting this ask. gnawing. anon u get me. they are soooo complex and can have soooo many GOOD interpretations and you are RIGHT that reducing them to a ~rejection~ story not only waters them down, but also CHEAPENS who they are and the culture they come from!

[lemonyinks]

The Light is now yours.

Orion #10

[wardensantoineandevka]

I keep thinking about the second set of voices Antoine heard in the Blight, and he speculates that the Blight changed on its own beyond the manipulation of the gods, but I'm still so worried about it and what the other set of voices were and what they might want. Even with the Blight fading from Thedas, I'm worried.

[fandom-blackhole]

Craving validation so here's a few different stages of my current WIP aka my DnD character :)

*insert the last beautiful thing i saw is the thing that blinded me by pairs paloma as that is her theme song I fear*

full body/outfit below cut

[forbiddentaako]

when you find pics of yourself pre-transition but you used to be a creepypasta oc so you need to destroy the evidence or else your partner will make fun of you since you make fun of him for being emo

[technicolorxsn]

ohhhhhh I think I see where hello charlotte took inspiration now

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

Good morning, love! All my tumblr links on the jercy masterlist are presently broken because I changed my username, whoops 😅 But if you replace "stillneedsmorekissing" with "melancholic-pigeon" and leave everything else the same, they should still get you to the same place! 💜

(and thank you again for even putting me on it omg my heart, I've been rereading your old reviews recently and they never fail to make me choke up 😭)

hello sweet angel human!

thank you for letting me know; I have fixed all your tumblr links, so they should be all good now <3

Im always sorry i haven't been reading your stuff, I know it's all still incredible and your universe will forever hold such a special place in my heart.

you deserve to be on every fic rec list forever you are so full of magic!

i hope youve been well :) sending love always

[locked-into-eternity]

no nice dream then D:

-j

{It seems peaceful so far…}

[desafia]

@magiccost for ruby | s.c. 🖤

she signs nor says a word as she approaches. she merely comes to where ruby sits and flops herself down, putting her head in the other woman's lap like it actually belongs there. sage-hued gaze flickers up and she raises a hand to gently touch the ends of ruby's hair. ❛ what are you thinking about? ❜ she finally signs after a moment. she signs it as if she doesn't already know. maybe she just wants to listen to her voice and watch her lips form each sound.

[multi-fandom-imagine]

hey!! I loved your Epic series, and if it doesn't bother you, can you do one of places where Apollo would have sex with fem!reader? <3

A/n: Excellent

Apollo’s Favorite Places He and You Have Had Sex

By the god of poetry, prophecy, music, and absolutely unholy sex

1. In the Temple Dedicated to Him

Of course this is one of his favorites. What kind of god wouldn’t want to be worshiped in every possible sense of the word?

He had you spread across the marble altar, sunlight slicing through the columns like golden blades, casting holy light on your naked skin. The air was thick with incense — frankincense, myrrh, and your scent, which he swears is now his favorite perfume.

Apollo took his time, slow and deliberate, the kind of slow that’s maddening. He whispered praises into your ear in Ancient Greek, tongue flicking along your neck as he slid into you. Every roll of his hips made the mosaics overhead seem to shimmer. “You were made for this,” he muttered, hands holding your thighs open like he was offering you to the gods — except he was the god, and you were already his offering.

By the time he finished, you were trembling, back arched, the altar damp with sweat. He looked down at you like you were the prophecy he never saw coming — beautiful, divine, and absolutely wrecked.

2. On His Sun Chariot (While It Was in the Sky)

“Do you trust me?” he asked with that infuriatingly perfect grin — right before lifting you into the flaming chariot mid-sky.

The chariot moved fast, powered by his divine horses, soaring through the clouds. The wind whipped your hair back, and the sunlight painted his skin in godly gold, brighter than anything mortal eyes could bear. But he only had eyes for you.

He had you bent over the front of the chariot, bracing yourself against the golden frame as he pounded into you from behind, every thrust rattling the heavens. The horses neighed in approval (or protest — honestly who cared?), and the mortals below probably thought the streaks in the sky were shooting stars. They had no idea it was just Apollo fucking his favorite mortal across the stratosphere.

You came screaming his name — and somewhere, a poet was struck with inspiration.

3. In the Oracle’s Chamber at Delphi

The sacred space where his voice speaks through the Pythia and now, through you, when he’s deep inside and you can barely form coherent words.

The first time it happened, he caught you staring a little too long at the bronze tripod where the Oracle sat. He raised a brow and said, “Wanna sit there?” And you, of course, didn’t realize what he meant until he was lowering you onto it, letting you straddle the seat while he knelt before you.

His tongue was devastating. Divine. Almost cruel with how expertly he worked you up, dragging it over your slick folds, licking and sucking like it was ambrosia. He held your thighs open, whispering things no mortal should ever hear — promises of how he’d make you feel like a goddess, if only for a moment.

And then he stood, slid into you with a slow groan, and suddenly you understood why the Oracle spoke in tongues. Because with Apollo inside you, gasping and calling out is the only language that makes sense.

4. In the Middle of a Field of Poppies

Sun-warmed, lazy, dream-dazed sex. One of those days where he’d wrapped himself around you under the golden sun, fingers lazily stroking your skin, feeding you grapes and kisses like you were Persephone and he was trying to lure you into staying forever.

The poppies rustled around you, soft and fragrant, as he slid between your legs with the kind of tenderness that made your chest ache. He didn’t thrust so much as roll into you, every motion a sin made sacred by the way he whispered your name.

This was slow, syrupy sex. Hands in hair. Lips on collarbones. Words like “mine” and “always” murmured like prayers. He made love to you, and then he did it again, even slower, even deeper, until you were boneless and blissed out and wearing nothing but petals and his fingerprints.

5. On the Stage at an Empty Amphitheater

Because Apollo isn’t just the god of prophecy and plague — he’s the god of music, and your moans are his favorite melody.

He sat on the edge of the stage, legs spread, cock hard and leaking, beckoning you forward like you were his next performance. You sank to your knees, mouth parting around him, and he groaned like the first note of a song.

But that wasn’t enough. It never is with him. He pulled you up, bent you over the edge of the platform, and slid into you with a low hiss. The acoustics made everything louder — the slap of skin, the wet sound of your cunt, your broken cries as he fucked you harder and harder, until your voice echoed across the stone walls like some ancient hymn.

He swore later that if anyone ever heard that echo, they’d be compelled to write the next great tragedy. One that begins and ends with a god losing his mind over a mortal like you.

6. In His Sacred Grove — Against a Laurel Tree

Oh, this one was personal.

You were teasing him, wearing one of his laurel crowns and nothing else, lounging among his trees like you owned the place. “You know that’s sacred,” he warned, but you just smiled.

So he made you kneel before the tree, cheek pressed to the bark, while he took you from behind, fingers gripping your hips so tight you bore little bruises shaped like his hands.

“You think you can mock me, little nymph?” he growled against your neck. “I’m a god. Your god.”

You bit back a moan, but he smirked. “Say it. Who do you belong to?”

“Apollo,” you gasped. “I belong to Apollo.”

He didn’t stop until your legs gave out, and even then he lifted you, pinned you to the tree, and fucked you into it like he was staking his claim on nature itself.

7. In His Library — With You Bent Over His Scrolls

Knowledge? Sacred. Learning? Beautiful. But nothing makes Apollo harder than seeing you stretched across his parchment, smudging ink with your sweat and slick.

He had been reading. You had been distracting. And suddenly, you were bent over the desk, skirt bunched around your waist, hands grasping for the edge as he filled you from behind. Scrolls fell to the floor. Candles flickered. The only thing louder than your cries was the sound of his hips slamming into you.

He groaned every time you clenched around him. “You’re ruining centuries of wisdom,” he growled, “and I don’t even care.”

You came with his name on your lips and a map of ancient texts pressed into your back. He came with a curse and a promise — that he’d bind you to him, with words and moans and the kind of pleasure only a god can give.

Honorable Mentions

• In the bath, with golden oils and lazy kisses

• During a thunderstorm, while lightning crackled around you

• In mortal disguise, in a crowded temple, with his fingers inside you while you tried to stay quiet

• Against a mirror, watching you fall apart and loving every second of it

And the best part?

Every time he takes you — no matter the place — he swears he falls a little more. You’re his muse, his madness, his favorite song. And he’ll keep writing you into every verse, every prophecy, every moan that leaves his lips.

Because for Apollo, the god of light, there is nothing more divine than the way you say his name when you come.

[emssturniolo]

bracelet

pairing: christopher sturniolo x reader

summary: a bracelet catches chris’s eye while you’re out shopping, and you decide to treat him :)

a/n: the bracelet i have in mind is the pythia one, if anyone was around in late 2022 i hope this takes you back a little

despite not being public yet, you and chris had decided to go out for a date in the morning in la.

when you woke up and got ready, you said your goodbyes to nick and matt and headed off.

you had agreed on visiting one shop in particular which you both really liked, so you parked in the nearest parking spot and headed out.

you and chris were both super happy to get to spend a day with each other, and if anyone were to question why it was just you two, you’d simply answer that nick and matt had other plans.

going through the shop together, you and chris each picked out things you liked, but something in particular caught chris’s eye - it was a silver bracelet with stars that had red gems in the middle.

chris picked up the bracelet in his hand, examining it well. the look on his face was something similar to what it looked like when he talked about something he was passionate about, and you knew he really wanted it.

“you like it?” you asked with a smile.

“yeah, it’s sick!” he responded.

“get it then.”

he turned the bracelet around in his hand and found the price tag, but as soon and he read the price, he seemed to replace the expression on his face with a frown.

“it’s so expensive.” he said in a whiney tone.

you looked over his hand and read the price for yourself. $100, and though it was not expensive, he explained to you that he didn’t want to spend much money right now because he was trying to save for something else. but you saw the look on his face. he had to have that bracelet.

so once you finished looking around the shop and decided on trying on some stuff, you suggested you’d go first.

you took your time making sure the things you picked out looked good and fit you well, and asked chris on his opinion, because you knew he loved when you helped each other out with your clothing styles.

and when you were done, it was his turn to try his things on - and this was your queue - before he got in, you told him you had seen something earlier and wanted to get it, letting him know you’d be gone for a few seconds.

as soon as he left your side, you hurried over to the little table where the shining bracelet was. you picked it gently, and made you way swiftly towards the cashier to purchase the bracelet on it’s own, just so he wouldn’t suspect a thing.

once you payed for the item, you made your way back to where chris was, reciprocating what he had done to you and giving him your view on the things he tried on.

soon enough, you two had payed for your things and left the shop. on your way back to the car, bags in hand, you had reached your hand to hold chris’s. as he opened his hand for you, you grabbed the bracelet from the pocket of your pants and gently placed it in his hands.

he looked down. it took him a second to realize what he was holding, but once he did he stopped walking.

he looked at you and took a step back, then with a smile on his face asked

“whyyyyy ? you know you didn’t have to!”

you could tell he was appreciative of the gesture by the look on his face, but you also knew he loved being the one to do things for others, not the other way round.

“because…” you replied, “you deserve it. so much, my love. plus, you look really fucking cute when you blush.”

his face reddened and he looked down before looking back up, the smile on his face now so much wider. he leaned his head on your shoulder, and pulled you in for a hug before whispering a soft ‘thank you’, his words muffled against your skin.

you helped him put the bracelet on, and continued walking to the car. the rest of the day, he was super smiley and kept offering you the prettiest smiles. not that he didn’t usually, it was just that these ones spoke volumes of the appreciation and love which he has for you, silently thanking you each time.

and you knew it wasn’t going to be long before he came back to you with a gift of his own, but you didn’t mind. he was happy and content with his new piece of jewelry, and he wore it everyday since, and as long as you knew that your boy was happy, nothing else mattered.

[controversial-bird]

so real

i don’t think i will ever defend skew as much as i defend pythia but seeing how the writers left his arc at the end of season 10? I MUST defend him, I must give it a chance!! The writing team and animation team cooked SO HARD on that season finale and clearly have hope for its character again and a story they want to tell!!

I want them to have the chance to tell it and for Skew (and the show and every character in it) to grow beyond the gore-fest it looks like!!

before we make any misconceptions about what my stance is on pcfc’s characters… there is ONE CHARACTER that I will admit that I defend uncritically, purely on emotion. Listen.

Pythia can do nothing wrong.

Have bun appeared as a menacing cheshire-cat-esque figure and dealt innumerable psychic damage to every character to ever have a speaking line in the show?

Have they delighted in the sudden floundering and fear on the faces of everyone she’s raked their claws into as boo ripped open their psyche to let their troubles spill like blood from a grievous wound?

Has xe shown time and time again no regret for these actions and stated their justification for these sudden conflicts and trips down memory lane every time to be “for your own good”?

Yes, absolutely, definitely.

But that doesn’t make Pythia wrong. It just means bun are well-meaning but not aware of what a gentler way to offer help looks like—and who can blame them in a world that is full of gratuitous violence, blood-spilling gods that bleed like mortals as they walk among them, and where eating someone—alive or dead—is considered an act of love.

I could never hate The Oracle, and judging by how the protagonist of the show (Skew) is becoming friends with them, I don’t think we were ever supposed to hate boo. (And to the people that agree Pythia is less of a villain than the general fandom seems to believe but ALSO reduce bun’s character to just *the therapist*… you really don’t get their character.

I will die on this hill.

[ladylaviniya]

Okay, if we confessing things about Apollo (Blood of Zeus), I have to tell someone my fantasy bc it burns my inside. I want him to fu*k me in his original height, when he is so tall and strong and big. When Zeus hugged Heron's mom in the Underworld it was so good to see the height difference or when Apollo was standing beside Heron. It's still a manageable size but to think about the stretch, the pain and pleasure combo and him being super excited that you would do this for him. Like Gods usually downsize themselves when having sex with a mortal but in this case his lover would express this wish to have him in his original size and it would turn out in this way is more comfortable for him. Maybe the lover is his priestess or something and this happens in one of his temples. (sorry for the confession, I have just seen your post about Blood of Zeus Apollo) This is of course not a request but if it interest you I would be curious of your take on this story if you would ever wanna write this or anything else for Apollo.

I love that you dare to write dominant/submissive or master/slave relationship. We need a super dark Apollo fic where his priestess is super submissive and wants to serve him well so this is why she asks him bc she wants him to be comfortable and he just goes with it.

This is so embarrassing please if this is not your taste just ignore it.

Blood Of Zeus: Apollo’s Pythia

Story Synopsis: You serve the god Apollo since he has threatened to bring a plague upon the people of Delphi.

Pairing: Apollo X Priestess!reader

Story Warnings: 18+ Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Dubious Consent, Vaginal sex, Humiliation, Size kink, size difference. Mentions of Loss of Virginity, Loss of Innocence, Ancient Greek God Mythology, Mentions of Animal Sacrifice, Master/Slave dynamic. Mostly Porn without Plot.

Authors Notes: Inspired by the song Still Don’t Know My Name by Labrinth. This was requested by @annievvv7 and I am considering writing a prologue and another chapter for when the reader is on Olympus. A Pythia is what they called the priestess at the oracle of Delphi.

The sounds of grunting and sucking of wet flesh echoed the marble walls of his temple.

“You’re thinking too much, my sweet little pythia,” The God of the sun whispered into your neck, his bright glowing hair tickled and blanketed your face and chest. His warm, large palm trailed down your soft belly and dipped between your trembling thighs. His agile fingers discovered your sensitive clit and rubbed gentle circles. His touch was so light and heavenly.

“Relax for me, your god.” he cooed.

He had you nude and spread open for him, your white chiton toga was pooled in a pile at the foot of his altar slab along with his glittering cape.

The stone beneath your back was stained in dark crimson from the countless goats that had been sacrificed in his name. At his command, you were at his mercy, vulnerable and obedient to his will. His presence alone was intimidating and his gaze pierced through your flesh as you were exposed, awaiting his words and commands. You were priestess of the temple of Apollo, you were raised to serve his will...even if it meant forgoing your vows of purity.

Apollo was correct, your mind continued to float away from his attentions. He saw it as strictly a challenge to bring back your focus to him and what he was doing to you. His two fingers, long and thick, carefully pressed inside your body.

It had been a month ago when you made the deal with the divine being. His threat was fearsome and you would not test him. It was a difficult decision, you had decided to save the people of Delphi by becoming his soul bounded slave...because he had promised if you denied him...you and the people of Delphi would face his wrath that would wrought a horrible plague.

You hadn’t known at the time of the deal that he had wanted your body in such a intimate and humiliating way. Upon your first time, Apollo had been domineering in inflicting his power...it could have been worse- you did bleed and you did try to fight him off, but he let you live and he granted you a merciful pleasure you had never known existed when you finally submitted to him. When he had come to you, you were a delicate virgin...now you were his desperate whore.

Your religion was strict with abstinence, you had even taken a sacred oath for Apollo as his representing pythia. Never did you truly believe he would be the one to take your purity. He said it was his rite to fuck you if not any other man. There was no questioning a gods rite.

Apollo’s fingers curled, brushing that spot inside you that made your vision blur, and it tore you from your thoughts as you arched into his palm. You made a pathetic whine and gurgle.

“Oh blessed pythia, you honour me,” he purred mockingly, his golden irises flashing as he looked down at your sweaty body. He drew his fingers out, holding them to the light to see how they gleamed before he licked them clean with his devilish tongue. Your lips parted and chest still heaved catching your breath. He smirked and bent down to steal your mouth in a hungry kiss, the taste of yourself on his lips made your core throb.

You pushed against his shoulders and gasped, “My lord, please lay down upon your temple floor...”

His brows lifted, “Making demands of me? Your god?” he still smirked, “Little pythia, I could punish you for such insolence.”

But he wouldn’t...he liked playing too much with you, especially when you were forced to grant the people their future among the oracle practice. The absolutely naughty things he would say to you, knowing you'd find it hard to answer the poor soul who merely wanted to know their fortune. How he would truly humiliate you and make you feel breathless by the day was done.

Your face was dishevelled in total lust, licking your lips, you pushed his shoulders again and felt his hands lift you by the waist carefully down from the altar until your bare feet touched the cold floor.

He crouched down and sat on the ground. His face was levelled to yours. You were by no means graceful but it did not stop his desire for you. You stood astride his thighs, your palms on his shoulder attempted to push him back. He let you.

Laying nearly flat on the ground, he balanced his upper back on his elbow and forearms. He tilted his head at you. You had to sit on his legs and pelvis to perform, or else the strain of your human legs would hurt more than the pleasure you’d hope to gain and provide.

You mewled desperately, reaching between you both to take purchase of his intimate member. It hung like a fucking horse, harden like a stone pillars rising up. A soft carpet of golden hair covered the base of his masculine appendage. His skin was still as gloriously golden and dark beneath his waist tunic kilt. You wondered if he had bathed himself nude in the pure light of the sizzling sun. His hard cock jumped in your hand, the veins pulsing against your palm. The God was huge, larger than any human man you had ever seen bathing in the springs.

And for some dumb reason you had insisted he be like this, his natural height and size instead of shifting into an average sized man. He was your god and you were his priestess, his pythia. You wanted to keep him pleased.

You reached between your thighs and rub the wetness there to bring it up and wrap around his cock. He gasped, amused and curious. Did you truly intend to take him at this size?

His large hands bent around your waist, digging into the skin of your soft bottom.

“Careful,” he murmured, “You greedy thing.”

You leaned forward, lining his thick bulb with your small opening, admiring the glitter in his golden gaze he held on you. His fingers ran up and down your spine encouragingly. When you rolled your hips forward you scrunched your face up preparing for the almighty stretch.

Your lips parted wide open, a horrible groan bellied from your mouth as you sank yourself down every inch of his unhuman length and thickness. You tried not to think about the possibility of it being the same size as your own forearm.

A low moan rumbled through his entire body that made your insides jump in delight and tingle. Apollo was happy to let you have this control, but he never took his eyes off you, never shut them. He knew the resentment still in your heart, the aching darkness for revenge. Of course if you tried to strangle him, stab him, even slit his throat he would not die, it would just hurt and perhaps piss him off.

You keened and whimpered, your body trembled as your lower lips pressed down to his soft pubic fuzz. For a few moments you were totally still. Tears streamed down your cheeks. He was impressed. His lips parted. You were admirable, trying so hard.

He moved his hands around. One thumb pressed to your sweet nipple and another to your clit, rubbing circles against them both. You gasped and felt your walls clamp down around him. He coaxed you through the pain, blooming inside you a new pleasure.

Apollo’s starved eyes travelled over your entire body, his eyes trailing low to the land where you both connected as he waited for you to move.

Carefully with your hands shaking on his chest, you lifted a little with a hiss, to roll down and sit perfectly again on his cock, letting him slide deep inside. You both groaned. It was exactly what you needed. The pressure of his cock, the feeling of being flooded with his cock so deep and entirely you couldn’t think of anything else but of your god creating this divine match.

You rode him very slowly. He let you lead at first until he grabbed your waist and jerked his hips up.

Submissively, you braced your hands on his strong glowing chest, feeling the smooth and tight muscles beneath your fingers, you rocked your hips back onto him, hunting the ultimate pleasure that was so quickly approaching, giving him everything you had. His eyes roamed from your face and your breasts, watching the way they moved as you practically bounced on his mighty rod. When he could feel your body growing weak and exhausted, he held you tight against him and began to thrust his hips up, slamming into you.

“That’s it, little pythia.”

He bowed his head, taking your tit and nipple into his mouth. He bit down, sending a shockwave through me, bringing your senses back momentarily. You gasped out loudly, your walls clenching. Your nails dug into his biceps. He sucked the nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirled and he hummed with delight at the sound of your noises. His fingers rubbed harder into your clit. Your soft whimpers began begging as he pushed harder up into you. Your lips pressed just above his ear while he sucked.

“You enjoy this my sweet slave?” He asked, even though he already knew the answer. Your sweet tears fell onto his shoulder.

“Yes my lord Apollo,” you whimpered, your toes curled and your fingernails dug up into his long blonde mane. You could feel the tsunami beginning to creep up your spine, your body surrendered to him.

“Then show me! Release your praise,” Apollo ordered, his voice a growl in your ear. It was too great. The bold bright light exploded behind your eyes. You screamed into the side of his neck, sobbing as the wave of desire broke the band.

Your muscles strangled his pulsing cock. Limply you sagged against his body while he steadied his thrusts and dragged the last few out, thrusting hard down once as he flooded your womb with his golden cum. His lips brushed softly against your cheek. He was slow and kind as he lifted you up and off of his cock. Your insides felt bruised.

He held you close to his chest, reaching out for his cape. It was like a wave of glittering white and gold. Like shining white sand, warm and comforting on your wet skin.

He covered your body in it, before lowering you to lay on the marble floor.

He eventually pulled out, and you could feel his seed start to leak out down your thighs and drip onto the cold floor. Your lips parted and your legs closed, embarrassed. He chuckled and kissed your salty sweat drenched forehead.

“You look so beautiful with my cum inside you.”

Apollo’s finger gathered the escaping slickness and pushed it back into your spent body, causing another shaky moan to slip from your lips.

“Best not to waste it.”

You trembled and boldly reached out to him. Tendrils of his long mane were combed through your fingers. So soft and smooth. He smelt like the morning, sweet dew and the warm springs. He cradled you in the crook of his arm, his skin was a great warmth along with his cape. His hand petted your body, trailing his finger tips up and down as you combed his hair softly. Come the rising sun, he would be gone again. He would speak to you daily through the oracle bowl, but you would not feel his powerful body until his next visit.

“Will I see you again?” You croaked, “Next month? Will your duties allow it my lord?”

Apollo was calm. Spent. He was pleased and relaxed. His cock had softened. His palm rested on your belly.

“No.”

Your face fell slightly. You couldn’t believe it but you knew you would miss him, his teasing touch.

“You will see me everyday...” he purred and kissed your cheek, “I have decided, you will return with me to Olympus.”

Your mouth fell open, your eyes widened. You didn’t know what to say.

“But my duties? I am to read the oracle and-”

His brows lifted, his hand pressed your hands above your head, his other finger pointed at your chest squarely.

“Your duties are to serve me, or did you forget the oath you made to me so quickly?”

With a fluttering heart and regretful fear you shook your head, “No, no my lord master. It’s just...what will I be if not your pythia?”

“My slave...my bride maybe...”

He bent down and pressed his mouth to yours before you could say anything further. He redressed himself as you sat up, stunned in silence.

“Br-bride?”

He smirked, and held out his hand to you, “Come with me my dear slave.”

You took his hand and he carried you to his summoned chariot. You would reach the city of the gods and we’d the great Apollo. God of the Sun.

[thetelesterion]

I'm gonna be real, this is a gross mockery of the Pythia's legacy.

Personally I do not believe AI "art" is true art. It lacks inspiration and effort. All it does is take from an algorithim that is either manually or automatically fed with things that others have made, and it spits out something that, in most cases, barely resembles the thing it is attempting to visualize. It also has been shown to have damaging effects on the environment, in contrast to the way it is being presented here.

I fully believe neither the Mousai nor any of the gods have any role in what we make with AI. There is no divine inspiration there. And frankly I find it hubristic to compare AI to the ancient oracles like the Pythia. One is a manmade invention that has no soul, and the other was a way through which the Theoi themselves made their wills known to humanity.

Support real art, not AI "art."