Most of the fiction on this site is centered on Iphicles, Hercules' mortal half-brother
I've also started dipping into some other fandoms: Battlestar Galactica (original series), CSI, Horatio Hornblower,
Magnificent 7, Stargate Atlantis and Supernatural. Links to slash fiction in these fandoms can be found below.
WARNING: most of the fiction on these pages contains strong language and explicit homoerotic material.
New story added 3 January, 2009
Cyberart by Selursera and Cycnus, featuring some of the beautiful men and gods who inhabit the Hercuverse.
My favourite places on the net for slash fiction.
Want to email me? I welcome all constructive comments and feedback.
Site created 1 August, 1999. Last updated 3 January, 2009.
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His mother's instructions still ringing in his ears, Cupid sulkily arrived in the gardens of the Royal Court, careful to keep himself hidden. The gardens were filled with mortals enjoying themselves, without mothers telling them what they should be doing and how they should be doing it. He didn't need telling how to do his job, thank you very much. And it wasn't as though Hercules' brother should merit special treatment by dint of the blood relationship; he was still fully mortal. Why couldn't he wait his turn for Cupid to get to him like everyone else had to? But no, Mom had to stick her nose in. Mom had to tell him how worried Uncle Herc was about his brother's loneliness. Mom had to tell him exactly how to play this one, to be very careful in his selection, to - great Zeus on Olympus, who in Tartarus was that?
All thoughts of Aphrodite fled from Cupid's head as he watched the man wandering along the path, evidently lost in thought. He was heaven on a stick. Cupid still wasn't sure exactly what Strife meant by that phrase but it seemed to fit. That muscular body just begged to be naked, preferably oiled as well, soft lips demanded an equally soft tongue exploring between them, and those cheekbones… they were to die for. Cupid suddenly smiled; maybe when his job here was done, there'd be some recompense for his labour. He watched the man, watched him jerk out of his reverie when a courtier approached him.
"Your majesty, the Captain requests your presence in the guard room. He says…" and then they were moving away from him, and Cupid was too taken by surprise to follow. Your majesty? That was Uncle Herc's brother? So what in Hades was the problem? The way Aphrodite had told it, he'd expected to find a hunchbacked squinting dwarf with extreme personal hygiene issues. She was trying to tell him that a studmuffin like that wasn't capable of getting some on his own? Cupid had the distinct suspicion that she'd been sniffing too many of her own love potions lately.
He kept an eye on the king through the rest of the day, but the man spent his time with the Captain of his Guard, Councillors, and assorted, but mostly male, palace flunkies. None of them precisely fitted the profile he'd been told to look for; female, for a start, young enough to have no problem bearing children, dignified enough to be a queen, pretty - or as pretty as a mortal could be, Aphrodite had qualified … Cupid dug around until he found the rest of the list. Oh, that was right, loving, faithful, - why don't you just get the man a pet dog, Cupid had queried sarcastically - and most of all, available. The winged god snorted as he tucked the list away again; did his mother think he was a complete idiot? Well, he was still smarting from her answer the last time he'd asked her that.
Supper provided him with the opportunity he'd been waiting for. He took up position at the side of the hall where he had a good view over the whole room, looking hard for potential candidates. That one was rather nice, the blonde one in the blue. And her little dark friend was luscious; not overbright perhaps, but with a body like that, who cared. Certainly not a mortal king, that was for sure. He caught the sudden attentiveness in the room and then the court rose to their feet as their king entered the hall and walked slowly to his place. Cupid began to take note of which females' eyes followed him, only to give up in disgust when he realised they all did. Either half-glazed with lust, or with romantic hope, all of them wanted him. Well this was going to be easier than he'd thought; the problem was going to be which one to choose.
Cupid continued watching as the meal progressed. The dark girl was giggling at something her middle-aged and portly neighbour had said to her, and Cupid suddenly realised that the man was stroking her thigh under the table.