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ఇ Currently exclusively Percy Jackson fandom ੈ✩‧₊˚
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Gynaeceum - a type of room in many Ancient Greek houses that was exclusively for women to lounge in, often placed in the back of the house or upstairs to be out of the way
Oikos - house
Xenia - the Ancient Greek laws of the home and hospitality that say both guest and host must be civilized to eachother, it is one of the pillars of Hellenism
Kibotos - a chest used to store linen
Chiton - a form of Ancient Greek dress
Choîros - obscene/slang word for vagina, literally means piglet, basically the equivalent of pussy
Chalkidîtis - a very cheap female prostitute that would sleep with any man for for a single bronze coin, an insult
Diphros - a kind of Ancient Greek stool/chair that has no back
Loukas sped-walked to the Gynaeceum, desperate for a moment away from that man.
The house he now lived in was grand and wealthy, a great oikos, but he was the only one in it—and the Messenger, when he wasn't taken by duties. Not even his starry mother would join them, too unwilling to face the monster she nursed herself.
Chores were done without his intervention, surely by divine influence, but he had no way of proving it.
Despite there being no one else to see, Hermes never dared to enter the Gynaeceum, for he knew the consequences of breaking the traditions of the home. The god-king and his flame tending sister both protected the home, and a break of its traditions without good reason was of the highest offense.
In the private of the Gynaeceum, Loukas screamed and cursed his womb—cursed the fertility his mother gave him out of love. He missed his brothers and sisters. Oh, how kind they could be to him in comparison to the fool he now faces the brand of.
Taken like cattle—bred like cattle. He was nothing more than meat to that despicable god.
He hoped the child was a boy, if only so he could turn him against their shared father. Loukas longed to steal the sons he forced him to bear.
He looked at the room he stood in, emotionless. He had torn the Gynaeceum apart—cushions, pelts, and broken pots all over the floor. He ignored it. His "husband" could find another woman to clean it. Loukas would not.
This was not his home, he was not responsible for any cleaning here. The Lord of the Sky was surely going to scorn him one day, the laws of Xenia broken by Loukas' own hands, but he could not bring himself to care. No punishment could be worse than being forced to bear a child he didn't want. All the sky god could do was give him a punishment of equal weight, nothing worse.
And Loukas knew that well.
Ignoring the mess around him, he walked to the kibotos and removed various materials from the chest, needlessly raising his chiton above his hips for easier movement while crouching. His father would throw a fit if he saw how voyeuristic he was being, putting his choîros directly on display, and that was the point. Alas, he was the only one in the room, as he lived here alone.
He almost hoped his father would barge in, if only so he could tell him he would rather be a chalkidîtis than his "wife."
But the god did not, so Loukas remained disappointed.
He sat down in the only chair that remained unbroken, an ugly and undecorated diphros, one he had been drawing on every night recently. He could not sleep well with his difficult pregnancy. Marking up the chair was simply a way to pass the time of his restless nights. The diphros' only decorum was the torn pelt of a rabbit. It was the very first successful hunt he had as a young maiden.
He had snuck away from his mother's loving breast, longing to see the outside world, and learned to hunt by watching his step-father and brothers. When they caught him, they were kind and taught him the craft of the hunt. They were there to watch his first catch. His mother's husband was the closest thing he'd ever had to a father that played his role. He could never say that out loud, though.
He had presented the rabbit to his mother excitedly, and she kissed his rosy cheeks and praised him for his strength. She taught him to cook from that rabbit, and his brothers taught him to skin an animal from it. They ate the small meal together—a stew they had made. It is one of his happiest memories.
He had always kept the rabbit's pelt on him since, a token of his freedom. It was the one thing he would die for before parting with it. Thus, he set it in the Gynaeceum, so his foul husband could not touch it.
He sat down, placing the pelt on his shoulders, desperately wishing for the warmth of his mother's embrace. He continued the tapestry he had begun two days prior, one he hadn't gotten far with.
But today he continued, obliging a request his brother gave to him when they were children.
"I wish to see the bounty of the earth one day. I hear there are glorious crystals of glittering appearance in Gaia's womb. We should go together one day, Peitho."
He had asked his father to bring him to those glittering caverns of gemstones prior, desperately grasping for any thread of connection with his family that he could find. The Messenger had agreed, but only once Loukas told him he wished to create a tapestry from the memory of the sight.
tw for implied rape (briefly mentioned), not between hermes and luke
~~~
I shouldn't be doing this.
He kept repeating it in his mind. He knew he shouldn't.
But he wanted so bad.
They were on vacation right now at the beach. The last time they were at the beach was when Luke was five and his mom was still alive.
He was fully unprepared to see his dad shirtless and playing with Cecil in the sand. It did horrible things to Luke.
Cecil was the result of a party gone wrong when Luke was in high school. He got drugged and never found out who it was.
He got pregnant.
Despite his lack of resources, he wanted to keep it. He wanted to so badly.
He'd cried and cried for hours before his dad found him, and he'd cried for even longer in his arms once he told him.
His dad said he'd help him raise the baby. He had more than enough money to support them.
Luke will forever be grateful, but right now he was only mortified. Hermes was the equivalent of a dad to Cecil, so Luke had watched his baby play in the sand with his dad... who was shirtless... and kind of hot.
Seeing Hermes be a good dad to Luke's baby was weirdly attractive. And it did things to him. It was like Cecil was their baby. Luke didn't like it. Well, he kind of did.
They went home that night with Luke struggling not to shove his crochet hooks up his ass in the car to try and do something. He quickly went to his room when they got back and got in the shower. He'd been spending the rest of the night with his fingers buried inside of him since, uselessly getting dressed for bed at some point.
He'd decided he'd had enough when his legs felt like they might fall off from how long he'd been masturbating. He was getting desperate enough he'd considered using the bed post as a dildo.
If he was getting that desperate he might as well just ride the real thing. He was pretty sure his dad didn't sleep with clothes anyway. It couldn't be that hard.
He snuck into his dad's room, underwear soaked from his earlier activities. His breath was heavy, hand clutching at his shirt, and he gripped the door handle hard with his other hand.
His dad snored. He was a very heavy sleeper. He wouldn't wake up. It would be fine.
He tiptoed across the floor and climbed onto the soft bed, biting his lip and dipping into the plush mattress. It was the kind without springs, thankfully.
Pulling the sheets away, he practically drooled. He was right. His dad didn't sleep with clothes on. His legs rubbed together, wetness leaking onto his thighs.
He wanted that thing inside of him. Now.
Carefully shimmying out of his shorts and panties, he hovered over the man's hips, dripping onto his limp cock.
God, just thinking about that thing giving him another baby made him soar...
Gently gripping his own father's penis in his hands, he guided it to his entrance, heart beating out of his chest. He shouldn't be doing this.
He was doing it anyway.
He sank down all of it at once, involuntarily letting out a loud moan, and eyes closing on instinct. He felt so full. He gently rolled his hips, groaning.
He started drooling, and his hands got adventurous. He found himself groping the man's chest and arms, eyes still closed, hips still grinding.
He doesn't know how long he did it.
It came to a screeching halt when hands landed on his hips.
He stilled completely, mortified at his loss of control--at his actions. He didn't dare open his eyes, but he didn't know what to do either. So he just stayed still.
His eyes were forced to snap open as he was flipped on his back. His knees were at his head, making him completely exposed, and they were still connected. His father loomed over him, eyes blown wide.
They stared at eachother for a beat, silence permeated by their heavy breathing.
"Is this what you want, Lukas?" Hermes finally rasped.
Luke swallowed, cheeks still red. "Yes," he choked. "I do."
Hermes groaned. He cursed.
"You have no idea how long I've wanted to bend you over and rip those stupid tiny shorts you always wear off of you."
Luke squeaked, eyes going wide.
"Y-you- You have?"
"Yes." His father grabbed his chin, and got close. "They drive me insane," he grit out. "Make me wanna fuck you stupid."
Hermes grabbed both his knees and squatted over him, getting close to his face. Luke couldn't help but whine.
"W-wanted-" Luke gasped. "Wanted to climb you-"
Hermes' brows rose.
"-when I saw you playing with Cecil. Did things to me. Was like you were his dad--was like he was our baby." he confessed, breath airy.
"Fuck!" Hermes hissed, starting a fast pace.
Luke yelped when his dad started moving, gripping the man's shoulders tight.
"Oh! Oh, Daddy!" he wailed, wrapping his legs tightly around Hermes' waist and crossing his ankles. "Oh! Harder, please! Please, Daddy!"
thinking abour hermluke once again and i think itd be really fucking funny if they ever roleplayed luke cheating on hermes with the mail man (its also hermes)
TDYDG wip — Hermes and Luke, tw for rape, transphobia, and misogyny
"You," Loukas rasped, beating on the man's chest. He would rip this god apart if it was the last thing he did. "...despicable man!"
His father grinned wide, teeth far too sharp for a boy born of the stars. "Oh, come now," he crooned. "Be silent and take me like a good wife."
"I am not your wife," Loukas snarled. He kicked around, flailing to get away. His father only laughed.
"You certainly struggle like a wife would—like a woman would," he commented like it was nothing, like it was just a fact of life. Like saying the sky was blue. He bullied his way further into Loukas, making him cry out.
He choked and spat in Hermes' face. "I would kill you if I knew how!"
Hermes laughed again, louder this time—booming and loud, like his father. "And yet you can't. Gods don't die, darling."
'I will find out how,' Loukas vowed to himself, disgust pooling in his gut.
"I am not your wife," he repeated instead, practically hissing.
His father viewed him quizzically, as if he were a fool. "You live with me."
"You kidnapped me." Loukas was sick of this pig. He will tear him apart. He has never felt rage like he feels with this monster. "My own mother searches for me and you hide the truth from her. I will see the day she learns what you've done to me and tears your flesh from you for it."
"Your mother is of no concern to me," the elder god snapped, and Loukas knew he was as foolish as they come.
"You're faster than wisdom, it appears."
His father hissed. "Do not insult me, kínaidos."
"I thought I was just a woman, you pathetic dog."
Hermes' jaw clenched. He could deny many things, but being the dog of his father was not one of them.
He harshly pulled out of Loukas, making the boy yelp.
He jacked himself off quickly, finish landing next to Loukas.
He walked to the doorway, stopping before it, back facing Loukas. It was a very stabable back.
"I will bring you food. Do not leave this room."
"Patrokoítēs," Loukas hissed.
Hermes snapped his head towards him, furious. "I should tie you up naked and leave you in the city for men to find!" he growled.
"Good! Any man is better than you!"
They stared at eachother for a long time, before Hermes turned back around, still fuming.
"Do not leave this room."
"I would like to bathe," Loukas tried quickly, tired of being trapped in this ill fitting room. He knew what the answer would be, but he asked anyway. "I feel gross."
"If you wish to call me filth, you will be my filth," Hermes snapped. "You will not bathe. If I find you've left, I'll rip your tongue out."
He walked out the room, brushing the curtain aside as he passed, naked and angry. Loukas hoped he passed Maia and found mortification in being seen in such a pathetic state by his mother.
He spat on the floor, the taste of cum still in his mouth.
"I'd rip out my womb if I knew how," he mumbled, making up his mind.
'If you wish to treat me like a woman, I will doom you in a way no man can.'
Notes:
kínaidos—κίναιδος—ancient greek insult referring to an effeminate man who does not fit traditional ancient greek masculinity mostly used to speak about younger men who enjoy being anally penetrated by other men
Hermes is using this specifically because in Hermes' eyes Luke insists on being referred to like a man while he is clearly a woman
patrokoítēs—πατροκοίτης—(this word does not actually exist, i attempted to construct this word based on another ancient greek word that does exist)—supposed to mean one who beds their father, literally fatherfucker—based on the actual ancient greek insult mētrokoítes—μητροκοίτης—which literally means motherfucker and is used to literally mean a man who fucks his mother
luke is basically calling hermes so much of a dog to zeus that hed have sex with him if zeus said to
Luke whined as Chris lazily fucked into him, paying special attention to his tits. He suckled at one and groped the other, feeding from the milk that wasn't for him.
It was night. It was late. Someone in the cabin was just went into their first heat and it was effecting everyone else. It wasn't Luke, and it definitely wasn't Chris, but they were dizzy from the smell anyway.
"Mama," Chris moaned.
"I'm not your mom," Luke moaned back, hips trying to meet his brother's.
Chris stilled, going silent. He stared intently at Luke, the rest of the cabin being drowned out.
"You aren't my mom," he said. "But you're my dam. So, you're still my mama."
Luke choked out a sob. He wasn't allowed to say any of the pups were his, despite him being the one to raise and nurse them. It was bittersweet knowing his mothering wasn't ignored, because he still couldn't claim Chris as his puppy anyway.
They would leave camp for the Titan Army later—and privately Chris would tell Luke he didn't go for his brother, he went for his mama—but for now they were dam and pup in a crowded, little bed.
