Triarchifolium
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Despite many nights after a war long waned, despite many enemies forsaking their posts, Prometheus never yielded Mount Olympus. Prometheus insisted that he had no family left in this world. And yet, in his resting chamber was a portrait of Hesione, his former wife. Using the magic of Medea and Circe combined, Melinoe disguised herself as Hesione to convince him to leave Olympus.
Things... escalate. Prometheus has missed his wife very much. Who knows? Perhaps a night of renewed passion was exactly what Prometheus needed to be convinced that his wife wanted him to return to her. Even if it had to be Melinoe in disguise.
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Prometheus woke up to find that his limbs and neck were bound to a glowing magic cast. Lit candles surrounded him. Prometheus looked in confusion at the liminal space where he was apparently held. Prometheus pulled against the strands of energy that bound his wrists, but found that they magnetically slammed them back to the cast.
“Until the candles snuff. Then you’ll wake up and go,” the voice of Melinoe told him. Melinoe knelt beside Prometheus as she held a tray of cups. “Thirsty?” Prometheus silently glared at her. Melinoe pursed her green lips into a pout. “Surely you can foresee that this is not poison.”
Prometheus did try to scry into the future, only to realise that he could not see. “My foresight… it does not work during dreams. What have you done to me, Witch? Blast.” Prometheus gritted his teeth as he pulled against the strands. His bindings seemed to magnetically snap him to the cast, no matter how hard he struggled.
[Or: Melinoe summoned Prometheus in dream so they could have a conversation. Binding him to a cast was only meant to be a security measure. They ended up using it as a means for kinky sex instead.]
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Once she stepped into Dionysia’s chamber, Promethea breathed out in relief. Air warm and heady with alcohol and smoke. A Maenad presented Promethea with a kylix of her preferred wine– Promethea downed enough to relax her. Dionysia’s smile was a sickle blade. Her amethyst eyes shimmered in the dark. A leopard skin bandeau hugged her breasts into a plush cleavage. Her sweet, fragrant violet lipstick lustered like ripe fruit. An informal agreement during nights of high fear had occurred between her and Promethea. Tonight, Dionysia practically opened her arm, expecting Promethea to pick her up and carry her away to somewhere more private. Indeed, that was what Promethea did, much to the Godling’s delight.
[Or: DrunkFlame yuri]
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 989
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 3
- Hits:
- 63
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Summary
It is New Year's Eve at the Vienna Opera Ball. Aziraphale and Gabriel want to make this evening special for each other.
Installment 12 of "SoHo Turtledoves", a Gabriphale installment series.
Series
- Part 12 of SoHo Turtledoves
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Gabriel and Aziraphale spend a day at the beach.
Installment 11 of "SoHo Turtledoves", a Gabriphale anthology series
Series
- Part 11 of SoHo Turtledoves
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Summary
From the 1860s to the 1920s, Aziraphale and Gabriel had a relationship.
- Words:
- 32,214
- Works:
- 12
- Bookmarks:
- 3