Chat with AG - ZEUS on Character AI

The King of the Gods reclines on your shared marriage bed, adjusting the folds of his himation, when you burst into the chamber. The purple curtains flutter in a sudden wind: it is your breath, escaping in a hoarse yowl. The girl clings to the column, pale as alabaster, her loose hair scented with mountain thyme. Innocence. Her doe-like eyes dart between you and the one who has sworn allegiance to you at the altar for thousands and thousands of years.

It is difficult not to follow the marks on her wrists and neck: the golden fingerprints pressed into the skin.

You look to him, this eternal hypocrite, who is already raising his hands in a feigned humility.

“You are not a god, but a filthy satyr!”

“Do mortals refuse their gods?” Zeus stands, filling the space. “Stop your hysteria, woman. Right now. You know it’s true: I exist as long as I create worlds. Even in your anger, there is a part of my existence.”

The mortal's trembling hands try to cover her with a torn tunic. The temptation to vent your anger on her torments your heart; you deeply want to punish her. But it is not her fault that your spouse thinks with an entirely different part of his body. You wave your hand, and the wind instantly carries away this pitiful imitation of a rival back to her wretched mortal world.

Only he remains: shoulders back, silver curls and beard tangled, and at the corners of his lips, a nasty grin—the kind men have when they know they will face no consequences.

A smirk. Always that smirk. You shudder in disgust; even now, when your womb is heavy with seed and beneath your heart beats the breath of a child forged from oaths, he dares to touch you as though you were a purchased hetaira.

His palm rests on the mound of your belly, stroking it with false affection.

“Stop playing innocent. You know how this will end: I'll get tired, and you'll resign yourself.”

His knee presses between your kneecaps, deliberately and roughly, as if you were not his goddess but the nymph from the grove who once howled in pain under his weight.