#swear on the river styx

[demigods-posts]

if luke had succeeded in recruiting percy. the best role percy could have been was the spy. going on a quests under the guise of a hero. sabotaging collective plans under the guise of impulsiveness. sending information back to luke through IM. relishing in the naievity of his peers that they'll win the soon-to-come war. and he's sure he's making the right decision. until bianca dies. until the one thing luke promised him would never happen happens. and just as the tides of the battle changes. just as the heroes see that luke is willing to kill. percy faith in luke begins to waver.

[dv-kelp-face]

Boy was the River Styx getting heavy traffic that day

[ladycatashtrophe]

Thinking of when I was little and I kept having these feelings like I was floating above my bed while sleeping (not the falling dream - I distinctly remember floating above my bed for a solid few seconds before I came to and landed back on the mattress) and my ultra-religious family thought I was possessed or "disturbed" but I was a Percy Jackson kid so one night when it happened I jokingly banged my fist on the floor and told Hades to knock it off (thinking it would do nothing) and then that feeling never happened again.

[yourlokalescholar]

The Styx

[teamleo1029]

I feel like the Calypso and Leo ship deserves more attention. Just reread those four chapters, it's ADORABLE.

She immediatly hates him, so the raft doesn't come. As they warm up, he says he'll come back for her, no matter the cost. The raft comes to shore because no one's ever tried to come back for her in all her life. I mean COME ON that's just beautiful.

[iamrizaka]

Winners will be crowned with laurels by their divine parents.

Apollo crowned Lee with a laurel wreath after his victory.

The wreath was presented to his father on a golden saucer by a pale and silent Will.

With overly pronounced tenderness, Apollo gently fixed the wreath in Lee's golden hair and lifted his face to his chin, leaving a cool kiss on his forehead.

"Humility and submission are your way to forgiveness, child my".

fuck you too, apollo

[gladoseon]

I made a DnD final boss but I wrote it in the style of a character sheet

It is also my ULTRAKILL oc

Pronouns are it/that

That’s all

[ray-of-midnight-storm]

Oh i love this love yall if you need help im all ears Dude my ask box is ALWAYS OPEN do not hesitate please i dont want people feeling the way i do sometimes

[astraskylark]

I am being put through trails and tribulations today, I am just a gurl

[bookishjules]

grover hesitating to swear to take care of percy... even when sally is so clearly desperate, clinging to her last chance for her son to have the happy ending she needs him to. grover swearing but not swearing in the river styx... bc how could he do that when he's still feeling the effects of his past failure. when he's reminded of it every day. when they are on the hill that he lost thalia on. he loves percy and would take a bullet for him, but can he really double dog swear to sally jackson that he can keep her son safe and alive? bc the question grover is turning around in his head isn't would he.. it's could he.

[coldalbion]

I SWEAR BY ALMIGHTY RIVER

From another article on this, first, because it's also relevant:

"The barrister Paul Powlesland, who has acted for climate protesters, was called to jury service last week, and made judicial history by taking an oath on the thing most holy to him – not an ancient book, but a cupful of water from his local river in north-east London: “I swear by the River Roding, from her source in Molehill Green to her confluence with the Thames,” he said, “that I will faithfully try the defendant and give a true verdict according to the evidence.” Powlesland explained that he wanted to promote the idea of the sacredness of nature, and its place in the legal system. “I hope that many others follow suit,” he said, “and animism is soon found more regularly in our courts.” In fact, the practice has the oldest of precedents. The first recorded oaths in western literature were made by the Homeric gods, who were, you will recall, in the habit of swearing on the waters of River Styx. As Hesiod wrote, breaking such a vow had serious consequences: “And whoever of the gods, pours of this water, and swears on it, and does so falsely, he is laid flat, and does not breathe, until a year is completed; nor will he have ambrosia and nectar to eat, but be laid on his bed while the evil coma covers him.”

And from the main article:

“I explained that nature is my God and I believe the Roding to be sacred and I manifest love in action for her, and in all the things that I do for her, and it would be a really meaningful promise to me,” said Powlesland. “I dipped my finger into a cup of the Roding water and said that ‘I swear on the River Roding from her source in Molehill Green to her confluence with the Thames that I will faithfully try the case and give a true verdict according to the evidence.’ “I got a feeling from the judge that he felt the truth in my voice, that this was a meaningful, sacred promise to me. It wasn’t just me playing silly buggers.” Powlesland is also the co-founder of Lawyers for Nature, a group campaigning for elements of the natural world to be recognised in law in Britain. Rivers, lakes and rainforests have been given legal personhood in countries including New Zealand, Spain, Ecuador and Australia."

[imaginechb]

So when percy has a nightmare in the disney+ show i immediately thought of luke having a nightmare. It is kinda cliché but still what about luke having a nightmare and the reader comforting him

"Shhh, shhhh, you're okay," you whispered, holding Luke while he cried. It was a strange, but not unheard of occurrence. The son of Hermes didn't cry often, but demigods were no strangers to nightmares, and Luke Castellan was no exception.

He buried his face into your neck, grasping onto the back of your camp shirt like a lifeline. "You're okay," you continued to whisper, filling his ears with comfort rather than the thunder and evil laughter of his nightmares. He pulled back to face you and you wiped his tears with your thumbs, kissing his face gently. "Do you want to talk about it?"

He shook his head. "Just wanna be with you," he said. You smiled gently and crawled into his arms. You had no idea what had happened in his dream, no clue exactly what lay waiting around the corner. All you knew was Luke needed you, and you were going to be there for him in whatever way he needed you to.

So, you stayed there with him, not pushing him to talk about it, instead simply talking to him, kissing his face or neck gently, and letting him hold you.

"You were taken from me," he eventually whispered. Your brow furrowed and you looked up at him. "What?" Luke sighed, holding you even closer. "There was... a voice. Something ancient, something... evil. He said I would join him eventually, and he... he took you."

He hugged you somehow tighter, not saying anything else after that. You sighed and ran your fingers through his curls. "I'm not going anywhere," you whispered. "I swear it on the River Styx."

His breath hitched and he pulled away to look at you, eyes wide. You knew you should be scared to say things like that. You knew it was a binding oath, and terrible, terrible things would happen if you broke it, but you only smiled, because you knew you weren't going to.

Upon seeing your promising grin, he smiled, too. "I love you," he said. Your smile somehow grew. "I love you too," you said.

You settled back down in the bed, both of you fully calm now. You began to fall asleep, Luke's fingers rubbing circles on your waist gently. "You're a dream to me," he whispered to you. You only smiled, before drifting off once and for all.

[kamaluhkhan]

GUILTY AS SIN?

GLUTTONY — part vi of we'll write sins not tragedies

pairing: luke castellan x nemesis! reader (afab) word count: 3k summary: after a mission gone wrong, you unknowingly take the fall for a friend; you get drunk with the enemy; and you start to think that, if they’re going to crucify you anyway, you might as well indulge in a few fatal fantasies. warnings: set during the last olympian so spoilers for the entire pjo book series; luke + reader get drunk; mention of death + war + reader has some survivor's guilt; smut (unprotected p in v, oral f receiving, kinda sub!luke, brief allusion to knife kink — 18 + MDNI) + angst author's note: not sure how i feel ab this one but i've been workshopping it for weeks so i think her time has come !! also maybe got a bit too deep into book lore oops. also also ive been listening to this song an outrageous amount and i hope i did it justice ANYWAYS lmk what y'all think, thanks sm for reading ♥

♪ "guilty as sin?" by taylor swift

you’re well aware of how suspicious this looks, rendezvousing with the enemy at a sleazy dive bar in the heart of the city. 

he walks in, and your heart starts to beat faster in anticipation. his familiar deep brown eyes are now striking gold, and a streak of gray is woven through his signature dark curls — evidence of the battles you've fought, on opposite sides, and an ominous reminder of a war that has yet to be over. 

as he casually orders himself a drink and one for you, you keep a hand on your concealed dagger. it’s become an instinct of yours, whenever he’s around.

“i didn’t come here to fight.” he assures, catching the glint of your blade. 

“and what about…..” you gesture broadly at him. 

“we’re not entirely synched yet, so it gives him a break whenever i’m in full control,” he explains as though reciting from a textbook (something like how to betray your loved ones and overthrow the olympians 101). “it’s only me tonight. i swear on the river styx.”

a shiver passes through you.

about a year ago, luke tracked you down in new york. apparently, kronos was pushing him to do something extreme, and luke felt conflicted. 

you thought it had to be some sort of cruel joke, because you could not think of anything more extreme than what luke had already done in facilitating a war between gods and titans. you had no patience for his crocodile tears, not after he played you so well the first time. 

you told him as much, then told him to fuck off. 

to be fair, you didn’t know that would lead to him bathing in the river styx and becoming a vessel for the titan lord himself.

luke wears the curse of achilles well: all strong muscles and sharp angles, his tan skin glowing ever-so slightly, and his body devoid of any fresh cuts or bruises despite surviving an explosion just a few days prior. 

“so….what? you’re the pilot whenever kronos needs to take a really long nap?” 

“i’d say timeshare is the closest way to describe it.” 

“50/50 ownership?”

“more like 90/10.”

you scoff. “sounds like a scam.”

the corner of his mouth quirks up in amusement. it reminds you so much of old times, his boyish charm peeking through whenever a camper would try to pull a prank on him, and then complain when he’d beat them to the punch. 

“it’s just me,” he repeats, but you didn’t need any more confirmation.

you know deep in your gut, from that mischievous smirk alone: it’s not the lord of time, but luke castellan next to you.

the bar is surprisingly busy for a weeknight. there’s a game being shown on TV, and people wearing sports jerseys occasionally groan or cheer or come to the counter to order another pint for their table while keeping their eyes glued to the screen. the jukebox in the corner plays music from the 70s and 80s as a group of friends starts to dance, tipsy after a deadly combination of jello shots and sangria.

for the first few drinks, you and luke are silent, letting these sounds of regular human existence fill the space between you. you half-expect him to ask about law school admissions, or the new tattoo you got on your upper thigh, or your band’s latest show — all fragments of your own mundane mortal life used to distract yourself from demigod realities. 

he doesn’t, though. luke just stares at the hockey game, one you know for a fact he doesn’t care about because the rangers aren’t playing, as he sips his old-fashioned like he has all the time in the world. 

“did you wanna meet so we could just sit here in silence or….”

when you had agreed to this meeting, you had a clear goal in mind: find out who the spy is and clear your name.

it might be too much rum or the crushing weight of recent events, but you no longer have the energy nor the drive to be strategic or even cautious around luke. now, you’re looking for a cure to your bone deep boredom and heartache.

"no. i’m here because….” he falters and runs a hand through his hair. “look, i heard about what happened at camp. and, with beck —” 

“dying?” you finish, taking one last gulp of your drink. all the rage, resentment and grief you’ve been feeling has been lodged in your throat. you’d hope each sip of your dark and stormy would burn through it, but instead it comes tumbling from your lips. 

“honestly, beck would probably still be alive if you didn’t join the dark side. i guess you’re kinda leading the dark side now, aren’t you luke? what’s that like?” 

luke polishes off his drink, too, his cheeks flushed. he gestures at the bartender for a third round of drinks. or is it fourth? 

“don’t be a dick,” luke sighs once a replenished glass is placed in front of him. “i obviously never wanted to hurt you — any of you.”

if you were of sober mind, maybe you’d point out that it’s too late; that luke already hurt all of you the minute he decided to side with kronos.

“i know i did, though,” he adds after swallowing a mouthful of his drink. 

you know that if luke was of sober mind, he would never have admitted that. he seems to know better than to apologize though, hopefully recognizing that the damage has already been done. 

it’s not like your hands aren’t bloody, too. 

“it was supposed to be me, you know?” you let out a watery laugh. “i was supposed to go with percy on the mission, but beck offered to go instead because he thought — he knew — that it would….it would be hard for me to see…. you.”

luke pauses and turns away from you. “you couldn’t have known what would happen.” his voice wavers, too. “beckendorf was looking out for you — it’s what he does. did.”

“i couldn’t even go to the funeral,” you continue. “i feel like i didn’t really get to say goodbye, you know?”

 “yeah,” luke hums sorrowfully. “mourning someone who fought for the gods isn’t really allowed where i am.”

again, you could point out the irony in what he’s saying. given everything he’s done, luke dug his own grave and clearly some for his friends, too. 

tears sting your eyes, but you blink them away. the reality is that one of your best friends died because you couldn’t handle an encounter with your ex-boyfriend, the one you’re currently sitting beside. 

you might not have done what they accused you of, but you’re nowhere near innocent. who were you to give yourself permission to cry?

in the dim neon light, you notice a tear slide down luke’s cheek before he wipes it away just as fast.

he clears his throat. “to charles beckendorf: a hero by any other name.”

you tap your glass against luke’s, and you both drink in honor of your lost friend. you drink to everyone and everything you’ve lost, too. 

beckendorf is dead; chris has lost his mind; clarisse might start her own war with the apollo cabin over a flying chariot; and ever since the princess andromeda mission went terribly wrong, silena can’t go one minute without bursting into tears. 

it was too easy for everything to fall apart, as though this was always what the fates had in store for you — the next generation of greek tragedies. 

thankfully, there always comes a break in the tragedy, and it seems to be now: you and luke, getting drunk off whiskey and rum and old memories. 

you remember countless times sneaking out to the beach after curfew, mixing store-brand soda with cheap alcohol smuggled into camp by luke’s half-brothers; hot summer nights spent fantasizing about existence outside of camp and returning to your head counselor duties in the morning with chiron and mr. d none the wiser. once you started dating, it became routine for the two of you to wander away from the group for some privacy, somewhere far enough away so that no one could hear you scream luke’s name.

those memories still make your skin flush, even as you’re here drinking cocktails at a bar in the city, with one friend gone to elysium and everyone else calling you a traitor.

“i can’t believe you don’t remember that night! mr. d caught a few senior campers getting drunk in his office? they stole a super expensive bottle of wine, threw up all over the carpet, and had to spend the rest of the night cleaning it?” 

you continue shaking your head. you tip your glass back to capture the last drops of amber liquid before confessing:  

“what i remember is spending the whole night jealous of malcolm pace because he got to slow dance with you.”

luke lets out something between a scoff and a laugh, then he’s silent for a few moments.

“i love this song,” luke muses, words blurring together. “i haven’t heard it in a while.” he finishes his drink and sets the glass down, holding his hand out to you. 

your brain is a bit foggy from all the alcohol, so it takes you a few seconds to realize what he’s asking. 

“you wanna dance?”

“yeah,” he answers. “make up for lost time.”

it’s not until you feel luke’s chest pressed against yours, his hands firmly on your waist, that you register what song is currently playing.

“downtown lights” by the blue nile — luke had spent so long trying to find the right song for your first time together. 

you told him not to worry, teased him a bit for planning every detail so meticulously, but deep down, your heart swelled with how much he cared.

the empty hermes cabin during capture-the-flag, both of you pretending to be too injured from sparring practice to play. luke’s sweaty hands fumbling with the condom, you having to step in and rip the wrapper with your teeth. clothes being haphazardly thrown on so you could run back to the infirmary before anyone noticed. silent vows to do it again, and again, and again. 

the more time spent exploring and experimenting, the more you got the rhythm of each other’s bodies, knew how to make the other squirm and throw their head back in pleasure — and that didn’t just go away when luke joined kronos’ army. 

even when your loyalties were more clear, your consciousness was plagued with visions of you and luke together, ones that left your sheets burning, more than the blazing summer heat. you confided in silena about these once, and she assured you that there is no such thing as bad thoughts. 

she did warn you, though: it’s when you indulge in these fantasies that they risk becoming fatal.

now, thinking back and forth between memories with luke and the events of this past very shitty week, you realize that maybe that’s why you’re here.

despite everything you’ve done, you supposedly betrayed people you consistently fight beside, fight for; you were thrown out of a place you once considered home and told never to come back. 

you were doomed from the start — a daughter of nemesis, assumed to be wicked and revenge-seeking since birth. 

well, if they’re going to crucify you anyway…..

once the song ends, you ask:

“you wanna go outside for a smoke?”

your hands start playing with the curls at the base of luke’s neck, hinting at what you were hoping comes next.

luke licks his lips, gold eyes darker than before. 

“guess you’re itching to put that celestial bronze to good use,” he says lowly.

“only if you ask nicely,” you drawl. 

luke blushes. 

you pull away from him, start walking towards the back exit, and pray that he follows you. 

—

this is why meeting with you was dangerous: there’s no one else in the world – god, titan, or otherwise – luke castellan would get on his knees for, let alone in the filthy alley behind a bar.  

technically, kronos sent luke here to recruit you. 

the scythe charm — the one used to communicate with silena — sits heavy in his pocket. it’s part of the reason why you were exiled from camp, why your friends don’t look at you the same way. why you can’t ever go back home, not really. 

luke imagines you might resent those who threw you out of camp, but you would never betray them. he knew that you weren’t likely to join kronos’ army.

he’s thankful that, at the very least, you still have a penchant for breaking some rules. 

the two of you are a tangled mess of teeth and tongue. luke tastes the spiciness of ginger beer and rum, mixed with sweetness from the clove cigarette you just smoked. you lock one leg around luke’s hip, and the brief glimpse of your lacy black underwear has him throbbing. one of your hands slips underneath his shirt to trace the contours of his abdomen. luke’s breath hitches when your hand reaches down even further. 

“wait –” you pause your actions to let luke finish his sentence, and already he regrets voicing his hollow concern. “i….i probably should not be doing this.”

“me neither,” you concede, breathing steadily.“but, they already think i’m guilty.”  with your other hand, your thumb dances over his kiss-swollen lips and luke feels something ignite in the pit of his stomach. “maybe i am, with how much i think about you.”

luke knows what’s at stake for him, if anyone finds out, but in a booze-soaked haze and with you looking at him like that, he can’t seem to care. 

it’s coming back to him now: that endless cycle of waking up sticky and drenched in sweat over dreams of screaming your name and going about his day like it wasn’t a paradox to be leading kronos’ army and still wanting someone aligned with the enemy to devour him. 

when he agreed, however reluctantly, to be a vessel for kronos, luke had to lock those desires inside a vault deep inside his mind. 

this might very well be luke’s last chance to satisfy his cravings, once and for all. tonight, he’s in full control of his body and mind. 

he’ll happily yield his power to you. 

soon enough, your teeth gnaw on his top lip as luke messily thrusts into you, your underwear hastily pushed to the side. he tries to savor every part of this, of you — the heel of your combat boot digging into his back; the sting of your nails where you grip him; the familiar scent of your skin, sickly sweet cherries and burnt vanilla; the hoarseness of your voice, encouraging him to go faster, harder. following your orders, luke wraps both of your legs around his waist and digs his fingers further into your hips to keep them secure.

it’s a religious experience, watching you throw your head back against the brick wall as your orgasm crashes through you. luke follows a few seconds later, pulling out just in time to paint the inside of your thighs with his cum.

luke grins as he watches you come down from your high, eyes closed, chest heaving, neck engraved with the outline of his teeth.

“sorry, didn’t mean to give you a concussion.”

you open your eyes just to roll them at luke, who’s tucking himself back into his jeans.

“you’re such an asshole,” you jest through labored breaths, registering his shit-eating grin. you fix the hem of your leather skirt and pout dramatically. “and you had to leave a mess behind, didn’t you?”

without another word, luke kneels in front of you. 

he leans his head back to admire how your lips curl into a bemused smile at his antics. your fingers press into his pulse point, no doubt feeling how reckless his heartbeat becomes underneath you. once more, your thumb prods at his lips; this time luke grants access, the cold metal of your ring burning on his tongue. 

“is this how you pledged loyalty to your titan king?” you taunt. 

luke shakes his head, still sucking your digit. 

he did have to bow, but not like this. the only entity he’d worship this desperately is you. 

“i’m honored,” you coo. luke bites back a whimper when you remove your thumb from his mouth, instead tracing the scar on his face, up his cheekbone. “i have to say though: i miss your brown eyes, pretty boy.”

his whole body is on fire with how you touch him, but your passing observation feels like a knife to the gut. wanting to be good for you, to prove he’s still your pretty boy, luke pushes up the bottom of your skirt so it bunches around your waist. 

“luke!” you attempt to scold, concealing a moan when his teeth graze your clit through the damp fabric of your underwear. “someone might see.”

“it’ll be fine, baby,” he assures. “is this new?” luke is mesmerized by the fresh ink on your thigh, fingers trailing over swirling black lines. 

you hum, a goddess gazing down on her disciple. “do you like it?”

luke nods. he replaces his fingers with his tongue, journeying across your skin, tasting salty sweat mixed with his cum drying between your legs. he hears your whimpers for more. he complies and plunges two fingers beneath the lace until you reach your peak. luke places one last kiss to your core, before getting up again.

you crash your lips onto his, and you’re kissing him the way you did back when you really loved him, chaotic and feverish. your fingers snake through his curls, and you tug on them just enough to make luke’s head spin. 

you’re somehow more intoxicating than however many drinks he downed earlier.

he sees something simmering behind your eyes, when you ask if he wants to come back to your apartment. you both know you shouldn’t, but honestly — in the grand scheme of things, what’s one more sin?as the two of you are tangled beneath your bedsheets, you decide to frame it differently, as a mutual vow: maybe just one more time will satisfy this hunger.

[xoxochb]

omggg i loved your hypnos!reader x percy fic smmm 😻😻 obv you dont have to but a part 2 to it would be so cool !! btw i hope ur having a good day/night!! <33333333

⋆·˚ ༘ * oceans deep (always to keep!)

warnings: none pairing: percy jackson x daughter of hypnos part one

you were only awoken in the morning when the warmth underneath you was shifted and replaced with coldness, you pout in response when you come to your senses and realize what had had happened

“percy” you mutter in your half asleep state, “I don’t want you to leave yet”

you hear percy’s soft laughter and the opening of a drawer. you assume he was looking for clothes you had stole

“I’m not leaving yet, sleepy”

“why can’t you stay here forever”

“It think it’s illegal”

you sigh and rub your face against your pillow before turning off your stomach and sitting up

“will you come back before you leave?”

“of course I will, sleepy. I’m just going back to my cabin to change and get my stuff and I’ll come right back”

you smile playfully. “I think I’ll take my chances kidnapping you”

percy walks back over to you, entangling his hand in your hair before placing a kiss to your forehead

“I’ll tell the cops you’re innocent”

“I’ll remember that next time I do something illegal”

“for you going to bed after eight-thirty is probably illegal”

you glare at him. “get out of my cabin”

“yes ma’am. I’ll be back”

“you better!” you call out to percy has he leaves

you sit up and take a sip from the glass sitting on your nightstand, then take a look around the cabin at your sleeping siblings. you wished you could have been asleep with percy still. It was always more peaceful when he was with you, the scent of the ocean always putting you in more of a sleepy state that you already were

you watch as the cabin door closes, silence returning to the cabin. you slump back down into your pillow, wrapping yourself tightly in your cozy blanket. the struggle to keep your eyes open was real. you cursed your father for having been the god of sleep. you let your eyes close for a moment until you realized you would end up falling back asleep

you shield your eyes when your cabin door opens and closes. how long had you been sitting here for? percy walks back over to your bed, getting comfortable beside you, allowing yourself to rub your face into his chest much like a cat. percy runs his hands through your hair and your eyes get heavy

“I’m gonna miss you” he whispers

you feel tears brimming in your eyes. you cursed your sensitivity

“stop talking”

small tears fall from your eyes, you assume percy takes notice because his hand stops moving

“please don’t cry, sleepy, you’re gonna make me tear up”

“I can’t help it”

you start laughing in the midst of crying. too many emotions at once! you feel drops of water falling onto the top of your head, you sit up to be face-to-face to percy who cries as you do

“I’m only going away for the summer. I promise I’ll call you every day, and you’ll be the first person I come back to. I swear it on the river styx”

“I’ll be waiting for you”

“sounds like a plan, sleepy”

[roguerambles]

Hades: "Alright, do either of you feel like sharing why we're here?"

Poseidon: "Don't look at me - Zeus called me here?"

Zeus: "...no, Hades called me?"

Hades: "Why in Tartarus would I summon you both to some island in the middle of the sea? I've got enough on my hands trying to get the Underworld in working order--"

Reader: "How lovely of you three to join me! I suppose its "Your Majesties" now?"

Poseidon: "Ah. I thought I sensed you nearby."

Hades: "Of course. Dare I ask what you're scheming this time?"

Reader: "You wound me, Hades! But, I suppose, it is best to get the point. You may have heard, Hera is proposing a marriage between myself and Ares..."

Poseidon: "She is?"

Zeus: "Oh. Yes, she might have mentioned it....this displeases you?"

Reader: *slowly caresses Zeus's arm* "I am displeased at the thought of being...tied down. Especially so soon after our victory over the Titans. Isn't now the time for...pleasure?"

Zeus: ".....you make a...compelling argument--"

Hades: "Zeus!"

Poseidon: "Only a fool would anger Hera. You should--*trails off as Reader turns her attention to him, toying with his beard* "...we...should...why exactly did you summon us here?"

Reader: "Because I have more than a few fantasies involving you three, and I want to indulge them while I have the chance."

Hades: "Have you completely lost your mind--"

Reader: *slips her dress off, letting it fall to the ground*

Hades, Poseidon, Zeus: "......"

Reader: "...well?"

Zeus: ".....come here to me--"

Hades: "ZEUS! She's going to marry your son!"

Zeus: "...I mean, she hasn't married him yet--"

Hades: "ZEUS!"

Poseidon: "She has a point. Haven't we earned a little indulgence. With such a lovely creature--"

Hades: "You are both insane. Hera will--"

Reader: "Oh, I called in a little favour with Aphrodite." *caresses Hades's chest* "We won't have any interruptions. Now...why don't I show you all where the bedroom is...?" *strolls off seductively*

Hades: "....I swear on the River Styx, we are never talking about this again--"

Reader: *over shoulder* "I don't mind not talking about it again, as long as you swear doing it again isn't completely off the table."

Zeus and Poseidon: *looking to Hades eagerly*

Hades: "....Fates damn it all, fine!"

[nona-gay-simus]

For all my non-TLT followers I want you to know that the third book in the series ends with:

- the soul of the Earth waking up in her anthropomorphic body based on a Barbie doll

- biting the lesbian goth nun who's had a crush on her for years on the mouth (because she doesn't know how to kiss) and immediately swearing fealty to her

- getting called a great slut by Lesbian Jesus

- and travelling through the river Styx to stab her ex-boyfriend (aka God aka an aging bisexual twink called John) through the chest

and this all happens in the span of 2-3 pages