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Underworld's Princess 7 - Where Gods Watch in Silence

Description: Selene keeps running, determined to stay ahead of the forces that seek to shape her fate. Meanwhile, Dean and Sam Winchester investigate the Parthenon, searching for hidden truths buried beneath its polished exterior.

Dean notices a tapestry depicting Illiara, sensing something eerily familiar—but he doesn’t yet connect it to Selene. Sam uncovers a concealed inscription beneath Athena’s statue, leading them deeper into a mystery they don’t fully understand.

The gods are watching. The mortals are moving. And fate is quietly pulling them toward something far greater than they realize.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Selene Rivers / Illiara

Warnings: Language, Blood, Violence, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Slow Burn

Word Count:3181

Beta: @watermelonlipstick (thank you so much for beating this hun! you have no idea how much I appreciate you!)

Also going to thank @writercole and @jensengirl83 you ladies are my ride or die and I love you both soooooo much!

Book Cover on Main Masterlist by: @talesmaniac89 and Dividers by @firefly-graphics Aesthetic Created by: Me 

Underworld’s Princess Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Days passed in uneasy silence, but the spirits did not.

Selene had never seen so many wandering so freely, slipping between the trees, whispering against the wind—as if something had loosened the boundary between worlds, allowing them to drift untethered.

Something was wrong.

She stood at the edge of the clearing, gripping the polished wood of her staff, closing her eyes as she forced her energy outward, letting herself feel.

Weak.

The power beneath her skin flickered like embers starved of air, straining against her grasp.

"Fine."

Illiara’s voice curled into her mind, the presence coiled just beneath the cage she had forced around it.

‘If you weaken the cage, I can let you borrow some of my power. I can feel you getting dizzy.’

Selene clenched her teeth.

She hated this.

Hated that she was not enough on her own, that the only way to steady herself was by loosening the very chains she had locked in place.

But her knees wobbled, and the air grew colder, pressing against her lungs.

She didn’t argue.

The cage in her mind’s eye cracked, Illiara’s presence shifting, threading energy through her veins.

Not enough to consume her, but enough to make her stand without swaying.

A violet aura rippled outward, curling around her fingers, pooling into the staff.

The biident hummed softly, its two sharp prongs gleaming like tempered silver, the floating pomegranate seed in the center pulsing with a dim glow. When she raised her arms, spectral vines trailed along the shaft, shifting between the richness of blooming flowers and the brittle edges of decay.

The sound of lost souls groaning filled the clearing, their voices colliding against the wind, grasping for something unseen.

Her grip tightened.

Faster.

She swept the staff in practiced movements, violet fire blooming against the dark.

Then—she slammed it into the ground.

A rush of power roared outward, the spirits screaming, twisting, pulled by unseen forces, before the wind howled through the clearing, forcing them beneath the earth—returning them to the river where they belonged.

Silence followed.

Then—

"You seem to be struggling to keep yourself balanced."

Selene whirled, shifting into a defensive stance, fingers twitching toward her weapon.

The voice was familiar, sharp-edged but calm.

Artemis.

Selene exhaled sharply, her body relaxing just slightly, though irritation still flickered beneath her skin.

"How did you find me?"

Artemis raised a brow, arms crossing over her chest.

"You’re asking me that question?"

Selene rolled her eyes, shaking her head.

"If you found me, I have no doubt you’ll tell Zeus." She powered down, letting the energy fade from her fingertips, though the cold presence of Illiara remained, lingering beneath her ribs. "Not to mention, if you can find me, so can the others."

Artemis hesitated.

A rare crack in her confidence.

"Not exactly."

Selene narrowed her eyes.

"What does that mean?"

The goddess exhaled, lifting a hand to smooth down her hair, the movement calculated, careful.

"Your father has made it difficult for people to find you, Illiara."

Selene stilled, a slow, simmering anger crawling up her spine.

"That is not my name."

The words came out low, sharp, cutting through the stillness like a blade.

"Illiara is locked away. I am Selene. So get it right."

Artemis stared at her for a long moment.

Then—her expression shifted, something unreadable passing across her face.

"Don’t make me angry, young one."

Selene’s lips curled into a mocking smirk, though the weight of her exhaustion pressed against her limbs.

"Back at you, prude."

Artemis stiffened, eyes flashing, but instead of snapping like Selene expected, she sighed, closing her eyes.

"I did not come to fight."

Her voice was softer now, not pleading, but firm.

"I am on your side, Selene. All I want is for you to find balance, to heal, and to be one."

Selene’s jaw tensed, her pulse thrumming beneath her skin.

"It would’ve been better if you finished Zeus off."

The words came bitter, tangled in resentment she had carried for too long.

"He is not a father, Artemis. He is, at best, an egotistical sperm donor."

She exhaled, shoving her fingers through her hair, shaking her head.

Artemis studied her carefully, arms folded, gaze sharp.

"The skills I’ve taught you don’t seem to be going to waste."

Selene let out a quiet huff, adjusting her jacket, the energy from guiding the souls still tingling beneath her skin.

"Between Athena’s lessons and your training, you should know I don’t do anything halfway."

Artemis’ lips curled just slightly, a flicker of something like approval, but it didn’t last.

"Yet your stance is off." She gestured toward Selene’s grip, eyes narrowing. "You hesitate when you channel energy. It’s not refined—it flickers."

Selene rolled her shoulders, ignoring the tight coil of fatigue settling between them.

"And what do you suggest?"

Artemis took a slow step forward, gaze unwavering.

"You cannot fight fate like you fight an opponent, Selene. You can train endlessly, sharpen your skills—but prophecy does not care for precision."

Selene’s jaw tensed.

Because she wasn’t just fighting fate.

She was fighting herself.

Artemis saw it.

And she didn’t let it go.

Her voice softened—just slightly. “You fear yourself more than you fear him.”

Selene’s breath hitched, but she forced herself to scoff, shaking her head like the words held no weight.

“I don’t fear anything.”

Artemis didn’t argue. She only watched her, gaze unrelenting.

“You’re lying.”

The words were quiet. Knowing.

Lightning struck the earth ahead of her, splitting the night apart, illuminating the clearing with unnatural brilliance.

The force kicked up dirt, shattered rock, sending shockwaves rippling beneath her feet.

Zeus had found her.

A frustrated growl ripped from her throat as she felt her power surge unwillingly, instinct pulling at her bones.

Her mortal form wavered, flickering like a dying ember.

Then—she was in her goddess robes.

But they were wrong.

The midnight-black fabric that once shone like the cosmos was dull, its vibrance muted, resisting its place upon her body.

Her hair, usually fluid strands of celestial night, flickered like unstable fire, shifting between her mortal self and something greater.

Not mortal. Not goddess. Something in between.

Lightning cracked again—this time, striking the ground directly in front of her.

When the dust cleared—

The Manticore emerged, massive and coiled with wild storm energy, its fur woven with electricity, tail curling with deadly static, its eyes blazing with Zeus’ fury.

Selene tightened her grip, her staff pulsing in her grasp—the two-pronged trident humming with latent energy, its center holding a floating pomegranate seed, glowing faintly with an unearthly shimmer.

The weapon itself felt alive, shifting between lush silver vines curling along its shaft and the blackened cracks of decay, mirroring the battle between her mortal restraint and divine inevitability.

Then—Illiara’s voice sliced through her mind.

‘If you let me go, I can be more useful.’

Selene stiffened, jaw clenching.

Not now.

‘Come on. Admit it. You’re weak without me, Selene. If you keep me captive, it will only make me stronger in the end.’

Her pulse hammered, her vision wavered—Illiara’s influence coiling like a snake, waiting.

The Manticore lunged, its tail whipping forward with a crack like thunder, lightning sparking across its path.

Selene barely dodged, her movement faster than mortal—but clumsy, unrefined.

Illiara laughed.

A sharp, knowing sound inside her mind.

Artemis moved first.

A blur of celestial power.

Golden arrows whistled through the air, striking the beast’s flank, their glow illuminating the battlefield—but it did not fall.

It merely turned.

And roared.

Artemis landed beside Selene, bow already drawn, gaze locked onto her.

“You’re unstable.”

Selene grit her teeth, stepping forward, ignoring the way her fingers trembled with unchecked energy.

“I can handle this.”

Illiara’s voice slithered in again.

‘Then prove it.’

Selene lunged.

Her movement shifted—her mortal stance blending into something sharper, faster, her robes crackling with violet embers, her body pulsing in flickers between human and divine.

She was not Illiara.

But she was learning.

The floating pomegranate flared, absorbing the electricity coursing through the air, making the staff hum with unstable force.

The Manticore swung its tail toward her, aiming for a devastating strike—but Selene caught it mid-whip, twisting her body and slamming the prongs of her staff into the ground.

The weapon absorbed the lightning.

Redirected it.

With a deafening roar, the force exploded outward, turning the battlefield into a storm of raw, violet energy, sending shockwaves crashing through the trees.

The Manticore shrieked, its body splitting apart in a burst of electricity, its remains sinking into the earth, buried beneath the force of Selene’s raw defiance.

Silence followed.

Artemis stared at her, eyes sharp.

“You’re fighting more than just him, aren’t you?”

Selene exhaled, gripping her staff.

The answer hung in the air, unspoken.

She wasn’t just fighting Zeus.

She was fighting herself.

Lightning crackled violently across the clearing, splitting apart the night. The storm’s glow flickered against Selene’s robes, still dull, fractured, resisting their place upon her body.

Her breath was uneven, heart pounding from more than just exertion.

The Manticore’s remains sizzled where they had sunk into the earth, Zeus’ unnatural lightning still sparking faintly through the cracks in the soil.

Selene exhaled sharply, forcing herself back to ‘normal.’

The air shimmered around her before settling, her stance steadying—not because she was fine, but because she refused to acknowledge the alternative.

Adjusting her jacket, she brushed her hair back, huffing.

Artemis didn’t move.

She stood still, watching Selene too carefully, as if waiting for the realization to finally settle over her.

Then—her voice was low, measured.

“This was a warning.”

Selene scoffed.

“Obviously.”

Artemis didn’t flinch.

“Zeus is testing you. He doesn’t throw beasts like that unless he wants something more than blood.”

Selene rolled her shoulders, forcing herself to keep her posture steady despite the tight coil of exhaustion settling in her muscles.

“Let him try.”

Artemis let out a slow breath, as if debating whether to press further—as if she had a thousand things she could say, could warn Selene against, but already knew she wouldn’t listen.

So instead, she said simply—“He won’t stop.”

Selene’s lips curled into something close to a smirk, but sharper, layered with frustration deeper than just this moment.

"Would it really kill him to stay out of other people’s business?"

Artemis said nothing.

So Selene kept going, her voice steady but laced with fire.

"My father is the oldest of the gods, and you don’t see him crying about it. He balanced the Underworld better than Zeus controls the skies."

She shook her head, running her fingers through her hair, exhaling sharply.

"He embraced what he was, and he built something better—something that worked. Meanwhile, Zeus is out here throwing lightning at things whenever he feels threatened, as if destroying the world around him makes him stronger."

Her hands tightened at her sides.

"I refuse to be part of that legacy. And I refuse to let him dictate what happens to me."

Silence followed, heavy with something unspoken but understood.

Artemis didn’t argue.

She only watched.

Selene looked away first.

Then—without another word—she turned toward her car, slipped into the driver’s seat, and let the engine roar to life beneath her hands.

She would find another monster.

Another hunt.

Another fight to drown out the battle that raged within herself

The road stretched endlessly before them, the hum of the Impala’s tires blending into the familiar silence of a drive that should’ve been routine—but wasn’t. Sam shifted his gaze toward Dean, his brother’s grip tight on the wheel, fingers flexing every few moments as if trying to shake off some unseen weight.

The nightmare was still clinging to him.

This wasn’t unusual—Dean had plenty of bad dreams. But this time?

Sam couldn’t ignore it.

Every few hours, Dean had muttered about her. Asked for a name he couldn’t quite place. The huntress they called Revenant. And Sam knew—if Bobby were still alive, he would’ve had an answer. Maybe even a lead. Hell, even their Bobby’s counterpart from the Apocalypse world might have had something, some scrap of history that connected to this mystery.

But no luck.

No Bobby. No answers.

Just Dean, still trapped in the haze of a nightmare Sam didn’t understand, and a mission that required breaking into a monument guarded by more cameras than most museums.

Sam exhaled, shifting in his seat.

“Once we get to the Parthenon, security might be tight. We should have a game plan.”

Dean huffed, barely sparing him a glance. “Get in. Find the statue. Get the spell. Leave.”

Sam frowned. “That’s not a plan, that’s a bad idea.”

Dean gave a slow shrug. “Works for me.”

The tension between them lingered, but neither pushed further—not yet.

Outside, the Parthenon loomed on the horizon, a replica of a temple built for gods neither of them could afford to trust. The Impala rolled to a smooth stop near the edge of the park, just shy of the entrance to the monument. Dean killed the engine, letting the silence settle between them.

The Parthenon replica stood ahead, a towering presence against the skyline—too pristine for a structure meant to honor gods with a penchant for chaos.

Sam scanned the area. "Security’s tight. Cameras on the east wing, main doors look monitored, and I’m guessing they have staff patrolling inside."

Dean exhaled, pushing open his door. "Then we don’t get caught."

Simple plan. Terrible odds. But that never stopped them.

Sam sighed, following as Dean crossed the lot, hands shoved into his jacket pockets, posture casual but alert. They approached the entrance like tourists—taking in the massive columns, the intricate reliefs along the outer walls, blending into the slow-moving crowds filtering inside.

Sam muttered low enough for only Dean to hear. "Once we’re past the atrium, you’ll need to split off. Blend in, stall near the exhibits until I signal."

Dean smirked. "Stall? What do you think I’m gonna do, give an impromptu lecture on ancient Greece?"

Sam shot him a look. "Honestly? Wouldn’t be the weirdest thing you’ve done."

Dean rolled his eyes but didn’t argue.

Inside, the air carried the faint scent of polished marble, a quiet hum of hushed voices echoing beneath the high ceilings. Dean slipped past a few groups, instinct guiding his steps, until he settled near a tour gathering near the exhibits.

His attention drifted.

A tapestry hung along the far wall, rich in color despite its age, the woven threads capturing a goddess unlike any he’d seen before. Violet hair cascaded down her shoulders, flowing like midnight mist, her robes deep, endless, a swirling darkness threaded with silver—like the cosmos itself had bled into the fabric.

And then—her eyes.

Amethyst. Bright. Watching.

Dean stilled, something uneasy curling in his gut.

Why did she feel familiar?

The curator’s voice echoed across the exhibit, drawing his focus back to the group.

"This tapestry is on loan from the Greek National History Museum," they explained, pausing just long enough for the crowd to absorb the image.

Dean barely listened—until the curator continued.

"The Unknown Goddess," they said with a measured tone, as though the title itself carried weight. "A figure of mystery. Some scholars speculate she may be another daughter of Hades and Persephone. Much like Melinoe and Macaria, whose myths are well-documented, this one remains an enigma."

Dean scoffed under his breath.

“Great. So we’ve got a mythological Wednesday Addams just hanging out in ancient Greek art?”

He muttered it low enough not to draw attention, but Sam caught it, shooting him a side glance.

Dean ignored it.

The curator gestured toward the intricate details of the fabric.

"This tapestry was discovered near the rumored entrance to the Underworld in Greece—by the sacred area of the Acheron River in Ephyra."

Dean frowned.

A place tied to death. To passage. To things that were never meant to be unearthed.

And yet—here they were.

Sam followed the group, keeping his movements measured, blending into the slow shuffle of tourists as they admired the towering architecture. He wasn’t admiring anything.

He was scanning.

So far, security seemed light—a few staff positioned at entry points, camera placements more focused on artifact preservation than visitor monitoring. Until they entered the Hall of Statues.

The shift was immediate.

Here, security tightened—guards stationed near the pillars, their postures not just formal, but watchful. Sam’s gaze swept over the statues—massive, towering tributes to the Olympians, each figure frozen in divine arrogance, carved with centuries of reverence woven into stone.

Then—his eyes caught on one in particular.

A woman.

Her stance was commanding, the weight of her carved armor resting perfectly balanced against the folds of her robes, the iconic warrior’s helmet shadowing half her face. But it was the owl that stood out. Perched on her shoulder, its stone-cut wings half raised, as if it had been caught mid-movement.

Athena.

Sam narrowed his eyes, shifting slightly to take in the details of the carving. Something about her felt different. The quiet hum of conversation faded into the background. His breathing slowed. He barely noticed how his fingers twitched at his sides, how the world around him had faded into static silence.

Then—

"Hey, you okay there, Sammy?"

Dean’s voice snapped him out of it, the unusual trance shattering as quickly as it had settled over him. Sam blinked, shaking his head slightly, the weight in his chest easing just enough for him to breathe normally again.

Dean raised a brow, amusement creeping into his expression. "Don’t tell me you have the hots for a statue. That’s what happens when you go through a dry spell."

Sam let out a sharp breath, rolling his eyes.

"Says the man who was staring at a tapestry."

Dean scoffed but didn’t argue.

Still—Sam could feel it.

Something about Athena was watching him. The weight of Athena’s stare still lingered in Sam’s mind, but as he took a careful step closer, something else caught his attention. The base of her statue—weathered, ancient—had what appeared to be a faint engraving, barely visible beneath centuries of erosion.

He knelt slightly, brushing his fingers along the stone.

At first, it felt like just worn edges, another detail lost to time.

But then—

The markings shifted in the light, shadows carving themselves into something more defined.

Letters.

Greek.

Sam’s heart kicked up a beat as he leaned in closer, quickly scanning the inscription. The words were faded, some incomplete, but enough remained intact for him to piece together the meaning. A location. Not here. Somewhere deeper. Somewhere below.

The scroll wasn’t in the Hall of Statues—this was only the marker. The real spell was waiting somewhere beneath the monument itself. Athena had known exactly how to bury a secret. Sam exhaled sharply, straightening, just as Dean’s voice cut in behind him.

"You find something, Professor Indiana?"

Sam didn’t look up immediately.

But he did smirk.

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Dean (Female Pairing Only) 

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Underworld's Princess

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[flamencodiva]

Underworld's Princess 6 - Threads and Translations

Description: Selene’s carefully constructed disguise is beginning to crack. Illiara presses harder, her presence growing stronger, threatening to break free.

Meanwhile, Dean Winchester refuses to ignore the signs—Selene is too skilled, too controlled, and his instincts tell him she’s hiding something far bigger than she lets on. Their encounters grow sharper, their tension undeniable, as Dean pushes for answers and Selene fights to keep her secrets buried.

But fate is relentless. The gods are watching. And Selene is running out of time.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Selene Rivers / Illiara

Warnings: Language, Blood, Violence, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Slow Burn

Word Count:3148

Beta: @watermelonlipstick

Book Cover on Main Masterlist by: @talesmaniac89 and Dividers by @firefly-graphics Aesthetic Created by: Me 

Underworld’s Princess Masterlist

Main Masterlist

The next day, Dean paced the dimly lit bunker, flipping through another dust-covered tome filled with myths and half-legible prophecies. The air was heavy with the scent of old paper and lingering frustration—a silence broken only by the occasional rustle of pages and the soft hum of desk lamps illuminating faded words. Sam sat across from him, nose-deep in one of the few Men of Letters records that touched on the Greek Gods.

So far—nothing.

No mention of a runaway goddess, just a cryptic reference to Hades and Persephone tied to an unknown prophecy. Dean exhaled sharply, then slammed the book shut, the sound echoing through the halls. His frustrated grunt followed, and he rubbed his hands over his face, dragging them down as if trying to physically rid himself of the irritation clawing at his chest.

"This is ridiculous," he muttered. "Out of all the lore these guys collected, nothing useful. How the hell are we supposed to track a runaway goddess when there isn’t even a damn premonition?"

Sam rubbed his eyes, exhaustion creeping into his voice. “We could try Ketch—see if the British Men of Letters found anything. He owes us a big one.”

Dean shook his head, still restless. “I could check Bobby’s old books.” His voice was edged with determination now, as though action alone could smother his irritation. “He had a safe house full of lore. Not to mention all the crap we got from Samuel—and that research bunker of his.”

Before Sam could respond, one of the phones rang. Dean barely hesitated, moving swiftly, searching through the pile until he found the one vibrating against the desk.

He glanced at the screen, then smirked despite himself.

"Jody!" His tone lifted, momentarily relieved to hear a familiar voice. “How are you doing? The girls okay?”

Jody’s voice crackled through the receiver. "Yeah, they’re fine."

Then, a pause.

Something about her tone shifted.

“I’ve got a hunter here at the station,” she continued. “Says he wants to give you guys information. Says it has to do with a Greek Goddess.”

Dean’s amusement faded instantly. His spine straightened, his grip on the phone tightening as he signaled Sam to start packing up his things.

"Really?" His voice dropped slightly, skepticism creeping in. "What’s his name?"

“Says his name is Herman.”

There was something in Jody’s pause. Slight, but just noticeable enough that Dean caught it.

“He knows you guys by reputation,” she continued. “Figured something this big should go to the famous brothers.”

Dean’s jaw ticked.

Something about this felt off—a little too convenient.

“Herman?” Dean echoed, snapping his fingers at Sam, who had already pulled out his phone to call other hunters. “You sure about him?”

Jody sighed, a note of consideration in her tone. "I’ve heard of the guy. Never met him until today. Seems okay. Got to see him in action a while ago—helped me with a ghoul."

Dean hummed, waiting for Sam’s confirmation.

“So Herman just shows up and happens to have intel on a runaway goddess?” His voice was edged with suspicion now. “Not saying I don’t appreciate a lead, but… doesn’t this feel a little too timely?”

“According to Garth, he checks out.” Sam cut in, lifting his phone from his ear.

Dean sighed, tension still coiling in his chest despite the reassurance. "Jody, you trust him?"

“I’m only giving you the message.” Jody’s voice carried a hint of exasperation now. “He said he’d be at the local watering hole—staying at a motel for a few days.”

Dean exhaled, staring at the phone for another beat before pulling on his jacket.

"Guess we’re making a trip."

Jody had set them up in a quiet motel just outside Sioux Falls, far enough from town to keep things discreet but close enough to move fast if needed. The brothers settled in briefly before heading to the bar Jody had directed them toward—a worn-out dive just past the town line, dimly lit, humming with low conversations and clinking glasses.

Dean parked Baby close to the entrance, always preferring a quick getaway.

Inside, the air was thick with the scent of whiskey and old leather, the kind of place hunters could talk business without drawing too many eyes. The brothers slid onto the barstools, flagging down the bartender for two beers, choosing to act casual and observe before diving in.

No point walking into a trap blind.

“Think he’s here?” Sam murmured before taking a sip.

Dean stretched his back, rolling his shoulders. “Should be.” His voice was low, guarded. “If not, I’d say this was a distraction—a way to keep us busy while something worse happens.”

Before Sam could reply, a voice came from behind them.

"I can honestly say it isn’t a trap."

Both brothers turned, their movements instinctive, practiced.

The man standing before them was older—sixties, at least, with a scruffy beard and long, thinning gray hair down to his shoulders.

One of his eyes was white, a long scar cutting through the lid, while the other was a sharp golden hazel, flickering with careful observation.

Dean eyed him critically. “How do we know you are who you say you are, Herman?”

He signaled the bartender for whiskey, keeping his movements calm but deliberate.

Herman shrugged, unfazed. “We can move to the corner, test each other if you’d like. How do I know you’re the real Winchesters?”

His voice was smooth—too neutral.

Dean narrowed his eyes.

“Lots of stories floating around. Hell, I know you’ve had monsters take your identities before. We all have to be careful.”

Dean flicked a glance at Sam. The brothers had a brief, silent conversation, a flicker of tension passing between them before they nodded. Fine. They’d play along. They followed Herman to a secluded spot in the bar, where they all went through the usual hunter tests.

Salt, silver, a few well-placed Latin incantations.

He checked out.

Dean settled back, knocking back his whiskey. “Alright. Talk.”

Herman took a sip of his own drink before leaning forward, folding his hands on the table.

“Word is… this Illiara is supposed to bring destruction to Earth.”

Dean observed him carefully. “That’s what you heard through the grapevine?”

Herman sighed. “Found myself listening in on some chatter—people talking about a goddess that the old Greek gods are hunting.”

Sam frowned. “What does that have to do with us?”

His logic was solid—if Zeus and his gods were looking for her, wasn’t that their problem?

“Well,” Herman exhaled, running his fingers through his thinning hair. “If we hunters get to her first, we can use her. Get information. Figure out what makes them tick.”

Dean’s expression barely shifted, but there was a flicker of unease in his eyes.

“They’ve been roaming the earth for years.” Herman’s voice was level. “We should find a way to get rid of them.”

Sam scoffed. “We already know how to get rid of Zeus. We’ve got lore for that.”

“But if she’s a big problem for them, let it be their problem,” Sam continued. “If we get involved, we just put a target on our backs.”

Herman leaned in slightly, voice dipping.

“As far as I’ve heard, she’s a weak link. A damaged goddess.”

Dean’s fingers twitched slightly against his glass.

Damaged?

“What makes her damaged?” Sam asked, narrowing his gaze.

Herman paused—not quite hesitating, but choosing his words carefully.

“They didn’t say.”

The air between them shifted—something heavier settling in.

“But all I know is, if we get to her first, it’s better.”

Herman exhaled.

“Maybe she’s nice. Maybe she’s just like the rest of them.”

His fingers dragged across his scruffy beard for a moment before he sat back, sighing.

“All I know is we need to find her before they do. If she’s bad, we take her out first. If not… maybe she can help us get rid of some of them. They’re just as bad as the damn monsters, aren’t they?”

Dean’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing. Instead, he glanced at Sam. The moment their eyes met, Dean knew his brother agreed—at least to some extent. They’d met monsters before. Not all of them were evil. Some were just surviving. Hell, their friend Garth was a damn werewolf with a family. Dean exhaled, thinking over Herman’s words, letting the weight of the offer settle. Then, with a small huff, he knocked back the last of his whiskey.

“Alright.”

He set the glass down.

“We’ll bite.”

His eyes locked onto Herman’s, sharp with decision.

“Where do we start looking for this Illiara bitch?”

Herman leaned in slightly, voice dropping lower—as if the next words weren’t meant for just anyone to hear.

“There’s a spell,” he murmured, “one buried in the replica of the Pantheon. The one in the States.”

Dean frowned. “You mean the Parthenon in Nashville?”

Herman nodded, rolling his glass between his fingers.

“Hidden inside the Athena statue.”

Sam glanced at Dean before turning back to Herman. “And what’s it supposed to do?”

Herman exhaled slowly, tapping the table in thought before speaking.

“No one knows. Or at least—no one living.” His hazel eye flickered with something unreadable. “The spell exists. That much I’m sure of. But it’s locked. Undecipherable.”

Dean scoffed. “So what, you want us to run halfway across the country for something we can’t even read?”

Herman met his gaze, unwavering.

“It’s sealed until Lord Hades himself decides the time is right to unlock it.”

Silence settled over the table.

Sam’s brows furrowed, considering the weight of those words.

Dean sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “Great. So we’re dealing with Greek destiny now? Just what we needed.”

Herman gave a quiet chuckle, but it lacked real humor.

“If Illiara is as tangled in their affairs as people claim, that spell could be the key to figuring out why Zeus wants her so badly.”

Dean mulled over that for a second—before knocking back another shot and setting the glass down with a decisive clink.

“Fine. We’ll take a look.”

Herman watched as the brothers climbed into their classic ’67 Impala, disappearing into the horizon.

A quiet chuckle left his lips as he exhaled, his form shimmering—golden light rippling across his skin like a mirage breaking reality.

By the time the illusion faded, the scruffy hunter was gone.

In his place stood a man of effortless charm, slick blond hair combed neatly back, his eyes the piercing blue of a summer sky.

His steps were light, buoyant—as if the world itself bent to his momentum. With an easy whistle, he strode toward his car—a sleek red 1950 Porsche 356, polished to perfection. Before he could slide inside, a voice carried from behind him.

“I take it they appreciated the information?”

Hermes didn’t flinch. Instead, he turned smoothly, tilting his head toward the figure looming in the shadows.

“Yes, Lord Hades,” he murmured, bowing his head toward the God of the Underworld. “They are going to track her down.”

He paused for a moment, considering something.

Then, with a flicker of curiosity, he asked—

“If I may be so bold… why send hunters after your daughter? Cerberus could track her in an instant.”

Hades smirked, his dark eyes gleaming.

“If the hunters help us find her, what’s the harm?”

His tone was calm, almost amused—but underneath it lay something colder, more calculated.

“Besides,” he continued, flicking dust off his coat, “someone keeps pulling lost souls from the river Styx. I need Cerberus focused on getting them back.”

The mention of his domain being targeted carried a weight that even Hermes didn’t ignore. Hermes exhaled, his expression sharpening slightly.

“I understand.”

Then, after a pause—

“You know I must report to him.” His golden gaze met Hades’. “Are you truly willing to risk it all?”

Hades hummed, stepping forward, close enough that the night air hummed with power between them.

“Hermes.”

His voice was smooth—dangerously unreadable.

“You are the messenger, are you not?”

Hermes' lips thinned.

“Yes, Lord Hades.”

Hades smiled—but there was a knowing edge to it, a flicker of something Hermes couldn’t place.

“Then relay the message.”

His tone dropped, laced with finality.

“Hades has sent the Hunters on Illiara’s trail. What happens next is up to fate.”

Hermes let out a slow breath, then nodded.

“I will relay the message.”

Without another word, he climbed into his Porsche and sped off, leaving nothing but the sound of tires slicing through the night. Hades watched him go, his smirk lingering, unreadable. Beside him, a husky sat poised, moonlight catching the eerie glow in its eyes—eyes that held far more intelligence than any mere dog’s should. A flicker of power rippled through the air as the creature stirred.

“What do you think, Cerberus?” Hades mused, turning toward him.

The husky gave a low, rumbling bark, his unnatural sharpness barely veiled beneath mortal skin.

Hades chuckled, sweeping toward his own sleek, black Jaguar.

“I think things are about to get very… interesting.”

With that, the god and his loyal beast disappeared into the dark.

Dean stared up at the ceiling, the dim light from his bedside lamp casting long, slanted shadows across the room. His mind reeled, tangled in everything that had happened—the Minotaurs, the altar, the cryptic warnings.

And Herman’s so-called lead.

The Parthenon spell. The idea that a locked prophecy sat untouched in a damn tourist site, waiting for Hades to decide the right moment to reveal it. Dean hated waiting on fate. Hated the idea of something bigger than him dictating the way this hunt would unfold—like the answers were already written, and they just had to play their part in someone else’s damn game.

And then there was her.

Selene.

Even now, hours later, her presence lingered—an irritation he couldn’t quite shake, a splinter lodged deep beneath his skin. She was arrogant, infuriating, and yet—the way she fought, moved, carried herself gnawed at his thoughts. She was too practiced, too precise. She wasn’t just another supernatural creature.

There was something more.

Something dangerous.

And worse—something familiar, like she belonged to a story already written, already woven into his path without his knowing. Dean exhaled sharply, rubbing his hands over his face. The universe was screwing with him. Again. Every time he got close to something that mattered, something he wanted, tragedy followed.

And yet—

The idea of backing off, letting go, ignoring this felt impossible. He wanted to know her. Wanted to figure out what the hell she was hiding. Wanted to be near her. Dean let out a low, frustrated groan, turning onto his side, trying to push the thoughts away. He flicked off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness.

Still—his mind refused to quiet.

And somewhere, deep down, he already knew—

This wasn’t the last time she’d haunt his thoughts.

Selene tightened her grip on the wheel as she drove. She never hated fate more than she did right now. She had spent centuries outrunning Zeus, avoiding prophecy, bending the rules just enough to stay free.

And yet—Dean Winchester existed.

The very fact that she had crossed paths with him, fought beside him, stood in his presence meant she was already slipping into something she hadn’t prepared for. She couldn’t afford that. Illiara was whispering again. This is the way things have always been, Selene.

Selene clenched her jaw.

She would not listen.

She was going to the Fates.

She was going to find proof that she could change this.

She parked just outside the clearing.

Stepping out, she pulled off her necklace—a delicate collarbone ornament—and twisted it in her fingers until it became a blade sharp enough to draw blood. Ancient rituals demanded offerings. And Selene knew how this worked. She inhaled deeply, mustering her true form—the one she had buried for too long. The air shifted, thick with unseen energy—not a roaring storm of divine wrath, but something quieter, restrained.

Her breath came slow, steady, as light rippled across her skin, replacing the muted tones of mortality with something sharper, something just beyond human comprehension.

And yet—it wasn’t whole.

It wasn’t Illiara.

Where Illiara’s true goddess form was radiant, unrelenting, touched by the full force of the Underworld, Selene’s version wavered, flickering like embers struggling against the wind. Her usual dark hair lengthened slightly, strands shifting like silk caught between realms, holding faint iridescence that never quite reached its full shine. Her pupils turned slitted, a trait of the gods of night, yet they lacked the full molten glow of Illiara’s power.

Even her aura—normally nonexistent in mortal disguise—hummed beneath her skin, restrained but present, like an echo of the power she refused to embrace. Her fingertips tingled, the faint burn of unclaimed divinity pulsing beneath them. She was herself, but not fully.

A distorted reflection of who she should be. Selene clenched her fists, breathing deeply, pressing the power back, controlling it. She didn’t need to be Illiara. She only needed enough power. Enough to call the Fates. Enough to get answers. She lifted her chin, her voice stronger now.

“Atropos!”

Torches lit themselves as she stepped inside the cave. The path twisted downward, spiraling deeper, darker—toward something buried, hidden, waiting. Selene had walked this path once before, as a child, clutching her father’s cloak. Back then, she had marveled at the tapestry, at the thin threads that dictated who lived and who died, at the precision of each severed fate.

Now, every step felt heavier.

She was not just an observer anymore. She was woven into it. The loom whispered in the silence.

Then—she saw it.

Her breath hitched.

There—woven into the tapestry—was her image.

Wild hair, glowing eyes. Zeus, cowering before her, fear twisting his face.

And below—

Dean Winchester.

Dead.

Lifeless at her feet.

Selene staggered back, her pulse hammering in her chest. She was being played. And Dean Winchester was caught in the crossfire. Her hands curled at her sides, nails biting into her palms.

“If I avoid the Winchesters, will it change the outcome?”

Lachesis stepped forward, her expression somber, knowing, yet impossibly kind.

“You can try,” she admitted, “but one never truly avoids fate. One can alter it—but never escape it.”

A quiet pause.

Then—softly, reverent:

“I weep for you, Daughter of Hades.”

Selene’s breath caught, the weight of her father’s kindness pressing into her thoughts.

She nodded.

“Thank you.”

She reached for her bag.

“What do I owe as payment?”

The Fates raised their hands.

“Heed our warning,” Atropos murmured.

“Try to change your fate—but do not make us obsolete.”

Selene held their gaze, considering the weight of those words.

Then, slowly, she nodded.

“Never.”

With that, she turned and walked away.

Chapter 7

I will not be tagging my stories, so please don't ask. The tagging system is messed up and besides, if you read it yay, if you don't, that's okay too. Enjoy!

[flamencodiva]

Underworld's Princess Chapter 5 - Blood and Betrayal

Description: Selene has spent years keeping her true nature buried, but the cracks are starting to show. Illiara presses against her control, eager to break free, while the gods continue to move unseen, orchestrating forces Selene refuses to acknowledge.

Meanwhile, Dean Winchester is watching her—closely, carefully. His instincts tell him she’s hiding something, something far beyond the realm of mortal hunters. But Selene knows the truth is dangerous, and letting him get too close could cost her everything.

Secrets. Lies. Fate pulling them together.

The gods are waiting. And betrayal is inevitable.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Selene Rivers / Illiara

Warnings: Language, Blood, Violence, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Slow Burn

Word Count:4492

Beta: None for This chapter

Book Cover on Main Masterlist by: @talesmaniac89 and Dividers by @firefly-graphics Aesthetic Created by: Me 

Underworld’s Princess Masterlist

Main Masterlist

The warehouse was cavernous—a decayed husk of steel and shadows, where the air hung thick with the scent of damp concrete, rust, and something far worse. Scattered across the floor were dark stains—some old, soaked deep into the cement, others fresh, gleaming red beneath the dim industrial lights.

Toward the back of the warehouse, just beyond where the brothers were bound, stood a crude altar—assembled hastily yet deliberately, formed from splintered wooden crates and jagged shards of bone. It smelled of burnt offerings—ash, blood, something acrid and ancient—as if the Minotaurs had been performing rituals far beyond simple sacrifice.

The kidnapped girls trembled nearby, their eyes wide, faces pale beneath the flickering light, their fear saturating the air like an almost tangible weight Dean and Sam Winchester sat bound to a column, wrists secured with thick, unyielding restraints.

Dean had been trying—really trying—to slip free, twisting and straining, but the bindings refused to budge.

Sam, irritated, exhaled sharply, his frustration growing.

“It’s just a regular bar,” Sam deadpanned, throwing Dean a pointed glare. “Nothing special—just some totally normal guys who happen to be involved in ancient Greek blood rituals. So yeah, real casual. Want me to grab us a couple of beers while we wait to be sacrificed?”

“Shut up, Sammy,” Dean huffed, twisting against his bindings.

“I told you to be careful,” Sam continued, voice dripping with exasperation. “But no—you always think you can just stroll into places, flash a charming smile, and nothing will ever go wrong. And what did I say, Dean? You can’t see their real faces unless you’re a Greek god, related to Greek gods, or using a mirror!”

“I—well—shut up,” Dean grumbled, gritting his teeth as he yanked at his restraints. “What the hell did they use on us? I can’t even slip my wrist out.”

“This definitely isn’t your average rope,” Sam muttered, testing his own.

A low, rumbling laugh interrupted them, making the brothers freeze.

Heavy footsteps echoed as their captors approached.

“Pathetic hunters,” one of them sneered, his bald head covered in Greek-letter tattoos. His leather vest bore the name Minos—a title Dean didn’t like the look of.

The man crouched in front of him, tilting his head like a wolf considering its meal.

“I know you,” he chuckled. “The great Dean Winchester. Green eyes. Short hair. Smug, ugly face.”

Dean scoffed, narrowing his gaze.

“Who you callin’ ugly?” he shot back. “Last time I checked a mirror, I didn’t look like my mother had a thing for bulls.”

Minos’s grin faltered. A split second later, his fist connected with Dean’s jaw.

Dean exhaled sharply, shaking off the pain. “Touched a nerve, huh?”

Minos sneered. “We were hoping to catch a runaway Goddess. Instead, we catch a pair of hunters.”

Dean spat blood onto the floor. “Disappointing for both of us, buddy.”

“These ropes,” Minos continued, ignoring him, “are forged by Hephaestus—strong enough to bind a god.”

“Really?” Dean huffed. “That’s cute. You guys gonna sacrifice us along with the five others you kidnapped?”

Minos let out a haughty laugh. “You’re a joker. No—those humans are for us. We just need two more virgins to complete the ritual.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Well, that’s definitely not us.”

Minos smirked. “Which is why you two are just for the killing. After all, Zeus has had a bounty on your heads for some time.”

Dean scoffed. “Yeah? Well, Zeus is dead.”

Minos tilted his head, unimpressed. “You saw Artemis shoot him in a non-lethal place. Did you really think you could turn his favorite daughter against him? She had to be punished for allowing Prometheus to escape his fate—but she is still loyal.”

Sam focused on the bindings around his wrists. “You said these ropes are meant to capture a god? Why would you need one?”

Minos chuckled, shaking his head. “I suppose you wouldn’t know what’s happening in the realm of the gods.” He shot them a mocking glance. “Vessels of the Archangels. I would’ve expected more intelligence.”

Dean exhaled, unconcerned. “We’ve been busy.” He rolled his shoulders, testing the ropes again. “We don’t mess with your kind unless you mess with ours—and face it, pal, you have been messing with ours.”

Minos considered that, then sighed. “All you need to know is that Zeus has a bounty for the daughter of his brother Hades—the Goddess Illiara.” His lips curled. “You won’t live long enough to see us capture her.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “And what if we help?”

“Dean,” Sam warned.

“What?” Dean shot him a look. “These guys are monsters—and so are the gods that created them.”

Minos exhaled. “Spoken like a true hunter.” He leaned closer, gaze sharp. “We don’t need your help. We can catch the broken goddess just fine.”

Sam worked at his bindings, growing more impatient. “Dean, we’re here to rescue the kidnapped people and leave. That’s it.”

Dean watched as Minos strode toward the prisoners—eyes burning, calculating. A few of the girls screamed, thrashing against their restraints.

Dean clenched his jaw.

“Look, whatever’s happening—it’s spilling into our world,” he reasoned. “So we make it our business and stop whatever’s coming.” His voice dropped. “They called her broken, Sam. That means she’s not all that powerful.”

“If it’s Zeus that’s after her,” Sam scoffed, shaking his head. “It might mean she’s too powerful.”

Dean didn’t answer.

The thought weighed on him, heavy and unwelcome. Another dangerous supernatural force out in the world, wrapped up in godly politics? After everything—the alternate universe, the freaking apocalypse—why couldn’t fate give them a damn break? Or at least hand them a simple hunt for once.

Dean was so caught up in his frustration that he didn’t immediately notice—

His ropes had loosened.

A sharp inhale.

Familiar eyes stared back at him—ones he’d only seen in fragments, in dreams.

Before he could speak, a hand clamped over his mouth.

“Shh!” they hissed. “Don’t need the monsters catching on.”

Dean stiffened, narrowing his gaze.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he muttered against their grip.

Selene leaned closer, brow raised. “Doing my job, jackass.”

She gestured to the bindings. “Untie your boyfriend and get out of here.”

Dean scowled. “Brother. He’s my brother.”

Selene smirked. “Yeah, okay.”

Dean didn’t have time to retort before she was already moving, twirling a bronze sword with deadly precision.

She slipped behind a towering Minotaur—quick, fluid—then sliced clean through its neck, sending the creature crumbling. A second beast lunged. Selene twisted, narrowly avoiding the strike, shifting her weight just enough to let the blade glide across the creature’s chest. A third Minotaur surged forward, massive hooves slamming against the floor as it swung a brutal axe downward— Selene dodged, rolling beneath the strike, then spun to her feet, parrying the next attack with a sharp clang.

“Dean!” Sam hissed, snapping him back to reality.

Dean shook himself free of the moment and quickly cut his bindings, ignoring the strange flicker of admiration settling in his chest. Meanwhile, Sam sprang into motion, cutting through the restraints of the kidnapped girls and urging them toward the exit.

“Go—now!” Sam ordered, voice firm but controlled.

Selene barely seemed aware they had joined the fight until Dean abruptly snatched the sword from her grip mid-spin.

“Hey!” She snapped. “Give that back! I doubt you even know how to use it.”

Dean barely registered the surge of power running through the blade before swinging it, clashing against a Minotaur’s club.

The impact rattled through his arms, but he held firm—shifting into position before twisting his wrist, forcing the beast off balance.

Then, with a quick upward arc, he sliced clean through its throat.

He smirked. “Trust me, sweetheart. I know how to handle a sword.”

Selene scoffed, reaching for her crossbow while another Minotaur charged toward her.

Dean pivoted, swinging his blade in a tight crescent arc, catching the monster across the shoulder—just enough force to knock it into Selene’s line of fire.

She didn’t hesitate.

The bolt hit true, embedding deep into the beast’s heart before it collapsed.

“Can you two stop flirting and focus on getting out of here?” Sam interrupted, exasperation thick in his voice.

Dean and Selene whipped around simultaneously.

“We are NOT flirting!”

The glare they exchanged lasted only a second before they both broke into a sprint, charging toward the exit.

Behind them, Minos snarled.

“Illiara!” He thundered, voice barely loud enough for her to hear—but not for the Winchesters. “You will PAY for this!”

Selene stiffened.

Her jaw clenched.

She grabbed her crossbow, setting her aim without hesitation.

“I don’t think so.”

The bolt flew true, piercing Minos directly through the heart.

Dean and Sam turned just in time to watch the Minotaur turn to stone—then crumble into dust.

The brothers exchanged a glance, silently turning over what the hell just happened.

"We should go," Illiara murmured, voice curling through Selene’s thoughts. "I’m sure one of them alerted one of the gods. Probably Poseidon."

Selene inhaled deeply, steadying herself, then turned on her heel toward her Camaro. Behind her, the Winchesters trailed her, lingering just close enough to demand answers. She ignored them. For now.

Dean was the first to break the silence. “Are you going to tell us what the hell that was back there?”

Selene exhaled sharply. “I killed the monster, didn’t I?” She threw him a glance, her voice tired rather than biting. “Why do you care?”

Dean motioned toward the now-empty warehouse. “I care because those guys were hunting a goddess named Illiara.” His voice edged with frustration. “We could’ve captured one, gotten answers.”

Selene pinched the bridge of her nose, barely keeping her composure. “I’m talking from experience—stay out of the gods' affairs.”

“Hard to do when they’re kidnapping innocent people for their own amusement.” Dean’s tone sharpened. “You’re a hunter. You should know better.”

Selene let out a quiet, bitter laugh—but there was no real amusement in it.

She shoved her weapons into their compartment, barely sparing him a glance. Then, with deliberate ease, she strode up to Dean and took the sword from his grasp.

“Funny how I was the one who saved your ass in there.” Her voice was light, mocking, but her eyes weren’t. “You got captured—not me.”

Dean’s jaw clenched. “You are the biggest pain in the ass I’ve ever met!”

“Likewise.”

He stepped in closer—toe to toe, towering over her.

“At least hunters have each other’s backs,” he growled. “We don’t go around playing lone wolf while people die.”

Selene’s shoulders tensed, the words hitting something raw.

Dean didn’t know her.

Didn’t know the years spent running. The battle against Zeus. The things she lost along the way—the things she gave up just to survive.

He didn’t know what it cost her.

Her jaw tightened.

“You care about people, huh?” She gave him a slow nod, voice sharper now, cutting. “So you were okay sacrificing yourself for a brother who drank demon blood?”

Dean’s expression darkened.

“Or when you went into Purgatory during Heaven’s war? Unleashed the Leviathans?”

Her words cut, sharp and deliberate.

“I care more than you do, Winchester.”

Dean exhaled sharply, something unreadable flashing in his eyes.

Selene wasn’t done.

“But I don’t let people know me—because if they did, I’d be hunted down just like—” She poked his chest.

“You.”

Dean’s hands flexed at his sides.

“So if this goddess—Illiara—starts killing people, you’re just gonna sit back because it’s not your problem?” His voice rose.

Selene’s lips parted.

And then, something twisted inside her—a weight pressing too deep, too sharp.

It took every ounce of control not to let the sting show on her face.

She had spent years proving she wasn’t a monster.

And yet—without knowing her, without understanding a damn thing about what she’s been through—Dean Winchester looked at her like she was one anyway.

Her breath hitched.

She forced herself to scoff—forced herself to smile, even though something in her chest hurt.

“Wow.”

Her voice was lighter now—mocking, covering the wound.

“You label her a monster without even asking why she’s running.”

Dean bristled.

“You’re either with us or against us,” he snapped, motioning between himself and Sam. “If you’re against us, then you’re no better than the monsters we fight.”

Selene felt it—the coldness in his voice, the way he dismissed her, shoved her into the category of things that needed to be dealt with.

And yet—

Her stupid, traitorous body still felt the pull. Dean’s anger, his fire—it was familiar. It reminded her of her own rage—her own fight to survive. But she refused to let that pull win.

She forced herself to smirk—but there was no humor in it.

“And what does that make you?”

She stepped closer.

“The vessel for Michael? The man who carried the Mark of Cain? The hunter who tortured souls in Hell?”

Her breath was warm against his skin, dangerously close.

Dean didn’t move.

“If I’m a monster for protecting someone innocent…” Her voice lowered, nearly a whisper now.

“…then what does that make you?”

The air between them crackled, charged with something neither could name.

Chest to chest, eyes locked, breath shallow.

There was something about this stand-off—something in the way Selene challenged him, in the way her gaze burned, making his heart stammer for just a second too long.

Dean wasn’t sure if he wanted to shove her away or pull her closer.

Selene exhaled.

“Stay out of my way,” she murmured, voice steadier now. “And I’ll stay out of yours.”

Dean exhaled sharply.

“Gladly.”

But as he took a step back, every muscle in his body screamed at him to close the distance.

Instead, he turned away.

“Let’s go, Sammy. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

Sam, ever the spectator, sighed dramatically as he followed.

Dean shoved the Impala’s door open hard, muttering under his breath as he climbed inside.

“Bitchy, know-it-all prude,” he grumbled, gripping the wheel tight as he started the engine.

Selene yanked her Camaro’s door open with equal force, glaring at him as she threw herself into the driver’s seat.

“No-good, piece-of-shit, asshole, man-whore,” she huffed, shutting the door louder than necessary.

Dean exhaled sharply, twisting the key in the ignition with a little too much force.

Selene started her own car—then, as if remembering something, rolled down her window just enough to stick her tongue out at him.

Dean caught the movement.

His glare narrowed for half a second.

Then, without hesitation, he flipped her off in return.

Sam, watching from the passenger seat, sighed dramatically.

“Does this mean you don’t want to sleep with her anymore?”

Dean snapped his head toward him with a glare that could flatten mountains.

Meanwhile, Illiara sighed in Selene’s mind, voice smooth with amusement.

‘Wow,’ she mused. ‘Your mouth says you hate him, but your heart and body? Oh, they want him.’

Selene gritted her teeth.

“Shut up.”

She put the car in gear and sped down the road, her grip too tight on the wheel.

Dean, just behind her, drove with just as much force, his jaw tight, his pulse annoyingly rapid.

Neither of them looked back.

But the pull between them?

It wasn’t going anywhere.

In the shadows of the warehouse—now slick with Minotaur blood—the messenger of the gods let out a low, knowing laugh.

“Looks like things are getting interesting.”

He stepped forward, the moonlight catching on the metallic embroidery of his jacket—a sleek, modern design, yet stitched with wing-like patterns along the sleeves.

The motion was quick, fluid—as if the air itself carried him forward rather than his own steps.

His golden aviator shades gleamed as he glanced upward, tilting his head toward the heavens—as if hearing a voice no mortal could perceive.

A pause.

Then, with quiet amusement, he murmured—

“Understood. I will do as you command.”

With that, he lifted his hand—one ring glinting, inscribed with the caduceus, the mark of his divine purpose.

Then, in an instant—he was gone, vanishing like the wind, leaving nothing but the faint echo of fluttering wings behind.

Chapter 6

No tags for any stories.

[flamencodiva]

Nother Reblog for the updated version of the chapter

Underworld’s Princess Chapter 4 - No Rest for the Chosen

Description: Selene’s dreams are not just dreams—they are warnings of a war she refuses to face. As fate closes in, she finds herself fighting alongside Dean Winchester, their movements too synchronized, too natural, as if something greater is pulling them together.But the gods are watching. Zeus sees Dean as a threat, and Selene is running out of time. Seeking distraction, she turns to Bacchanal, a place of indulgence and escape. Yet even there, destiny follows her.No matter how fast she runs, fate is always one step ahead.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Selene Rivers / Illiara 

Warnings: Language, Blood, Violence, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Slow Burn

Word Count:2052

Beta: @wonder-cole

Book Cover on Main Masterlist by: @talesmaniac89 and Dividers by @firefly-graphics Aesthetic Created by: Me 

Underworld’s Princess Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Lightning flashed, and thunder rolled in the distance as Selene gripped her staff, muscles burning with exhaustion. She barely had the strength to stand. Another Cyclops lunged, and she barely twisted in time, driving the end of her weapon into its ribs with a grunt. The battle raged around her, bodies moving like a violent storm—her father and mother fighting side by side, her sisters clashing against Olympian warriors. A man in a tan trench coat wielded power against the Satyrs.

And the Winchesters—they were here too.

Harpy wings sliced through the air, surrounding them like a storm.

Dean’s voice pierced the chaos.

“Selene!”

She turned, moving toward him. “Dean!”

His back pressed against hers, their movements aligning in a deadly dance—instinctive, flawless. She felt their connection, the way they moved together, the way he shielded her. It felt right. It felt like fate.

And then—

Zeus appeared. His form crackled with power, the sky bowing to his presence.

“You think you can defeat me?” His voice ripped through the battlefield, sending shivers down her spine.

His gaze fixed on Dean, lips curling with disgust.

“This pathetic hunter tried to turn my daughter against me, and you dared to disobey my command.” Zeus raised his hand, lightning coiling at his fingertips. “You both will pay.”

Selene spun toward Dean as Zeus’s power crackled through the sky—but she didn’t see it coming. Dean did.

He moved before she could react, throwing himself in front of her—

“No!”

The lightning pierced his chest, his body jerking violently, his eyes glazing over as he tried to reach her.

“Dean—”

Her scream ripped through the air, but no sound came.

Darkness swallowed her whole.

Keep reading

[flamencodiva]

aanother updated chapter.

Underworld’s Princess Chapter 3 - A Hunter’s Instincts

Description: Dean Winchester has seen his fair share of skilled hunters, but Selene Rivers is different—too precise, too controlled, like someone hiding the truth behind practiced movements. His instincts tell him there’s more to her than what she lets on.Meanwhile, Selene fights a different battle—against herself. The goddess within her, Illiara, presses against her barriers, seeking control. But Selene refuses to surrender to fate, determined to remain mortal, even as the cracks in her disguise begin to show.The gods are watching. The hunt is shifting. And Dean is getting too close for comfort.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Selene Rivers (Illiara) 

Warnings: Language, Blood, Violence, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Slow Burn

Word Count:3005

Beta: None for this chapter

Book Cover in Masterlist by: @talesmaniac89​​ and Dividers by @firefly-graphics​​

Underworld’s Princess Masterlist

Main Masterlist 

Dean gripped Selene’s unconscious form, adjusting her weight in his arms as he carried her toward the Impala. She felt lighter than he expected, though her presence had been anything but small. The night air was thick with the scent of burned flesh and damp earth, remnants of the Wendigo hunt lingering. Sam followed behind, shaking his head slightly.

“You okay driving her car, Sammy?” Dean asked, carefully lowering Selene into the backseat of his own instead.

“You sure about this?” Sam motioned toward her. “What if she wakes up mid-drive and thinks you’re kidnapping her?”

Dean exhaled, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “She’s a hunter, Sam. She should know we wouldn’t do something like that.”

“Maybe. But we’re still strangers to her. And no one knows who she is.”

Dean glanced down at her, taking in her delicate yet battle-worn features.

“Then maybe helping her will earn us that privilege,” he murmured.

He shut the door and climbed into the driver’s seat, starting the engine as Sam walked over to her car with a quiet sigh of defeat.

Keep reading

[flamencodiva]

Updated Chapter 2. it is a same yet different story, so check it out. I'll be very annoying with reblogs today.

Underworld’s Princess Chapter 2 - Fire and Rivalry

“Sammy!” Dean called as he checked his watch. “Get the lead out! We need to be on the road.”

“Coming!” Sam rushed over, adjusting his bag on his shoulder. “Sorry, Jack needed help.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “We all need help, but you know who needs more help? The people we’re saving, so let’s get a move on! Shake a leg!” He barked, heading toward the garage with Sam right behind him.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam muttered, tossing his bag into the trunk. “Next time the internet goes down, you can be the one to fix it.”

As Dean climbed into the driver’s seat, his expression shifted slightly, like something was sitting on the edge of his mind.

“Have you heard from anyone about that girl we ran into a few days ago?” he asked, trying to sound casual.

Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Nothing so far. People know of her because of her description, but she mostly keeps to herself. Doesn’t talk much, has a drink every now and then, but that’s about it.”

Dean gripped the wheel tighter. “So no one knows anything? No family, no backstory?”

“Sorry, Dean,” Sam chuckled. “Guess you’ll never see her again.”

Dean huffed, driving out of the bunker toward their next hunt. “Yeah, I guess.”

The drive from Provo to Boulder was long—almost eight hours, which didn’t thrill her in the slightest.

Ever since the hunt in Idaho, Illiara had been pressing about him.

Selene clenched her jaw, tuning out the voice in her head as she focused on the road.

‘Why are we wasting time on monsters?’ Illiara’s tone dripped with irritation. ‘Our priority should be ghosts. Sending souls back to the Underworld.’

“I already told you,” Selene sighed, “we are hunters now. We need to be able to defend ourselves. And if hunting creatures of Eve and other strange beasts trains us for Echidna’s monsters, then so be it.”

The goddess scoffed. ‘There is a risk he will be there.’

Selene felt the weight of that statement, but kept her face neutral.

‘What will you do if we cross paths with them?’ Illiara sneered. ‘Will you open your legs wide for him to partake in what you have to offer?’

Selene rolled her eyes, fingers tightening around the steering wheel. “Dean Winchester is nothing more than a cocky, overbearing, thinks-he-knows-better-than-anyone asshole. I wouldn’t open my legs for him if he were the last mortal on earth.”

‘You are a worse liar than Zeus,’ Illiara taunted.

Selene exhaled sharply, glaring at the road ahead. “This conversation is over.”

Keep reading

[flamencodiva]

Reblogging for update. This story has changed from Reader insert to Original Female Character.

Underworld’s Princess Chapter 1- A Game of Gods and Hunters

Chapter Summary: Selene Rivers is a hunter bound by secrets she can never reveal, walking the fine line between mortal and divine. As she struggles to suppress her true nature, the gods watch in silence, knowing she is more than she appears. Meanwhile, the Winchesters pursue their latest hunt, unaware that their path is about to collide with something far more dangerous than they ever expected.Pairing: Dean Winchester x Selene Rivers / Illiara 

Warnings: Language, Blood, Violence, Fluff, Angst, Slow Burn

Word Count:3741

Beta: @superfanficnatural​

Book Cover by: @talesmaniac89​​ and Dividers by @firefly-graphics​​

Underworld’s Princess Masterlist

Main Masterlist 

The little violet Camaro darted down the road, its tires humming against the pavement as Selene Rivers raced toward her next destination.

She had been running for twenty-two years, surviving in the mortal realm by weaving herself into its shadows. But the truth was—she wasn’t meant to be here.

Not like this.

Her grip tightened on the steering wheel. Hades had warned her that breaking away from Olympus would come at a cost. And still, she had tried to sever herself—to split her goddess form from her mortal body to hide.

It hadn’t gone smoothly.

She was supposed to be human now, just another hunter drifting through endless towns. But the echo of divinity still clung to her, remnants of what she had been. Shadows shifted strangely around her. She healed too quickly. The pull of the Underworld lingered in her bones, whispering that she was not whole.

She exhaled sharply, pushing the thoughts aside as she sped past a river, its surface reflecting the moonlight like liquid silver.

Selene. A name tied to the moon, to Athena’s wisdom—the goddess who had trained her in secrecy, helping her sharpen her mind and hone her independence. A name that reflected her mother’s light but carried the cool resilience of her father’s domain.

And Rivers—flowing, untamed, slipping past barriers.

The irony wasn’t lost on her. She had tried to control her own fate, but the gods refused to loosen their grip.

She smirked slightly to herself.

If Zeus wanted to reclaim her, he would have to work for it.

As she arrived in town, she lifted her chin, squared her shoulders, and stepped into the dim glow of the motel’s neon sign.

The world would know her as Selene Rivers.

For now.

‘Is this really what we’re doing?’ a voice echoed in her mind.

“You know we have no choice,” she replied aloud, firm in her conviction.

Glancing into the rearview mirror, she didn’t see her own reflection staring back—instead, piercing violet eyes gazed into her soul.

‘We wouldn’t be running if—’

“You know as well as I do that we couldn’t have taken him on,” she countered sharply. “Besides, what better way to train than as a hunter? Artemis trained us well. We can blend in.”

‘With a name like Selene Rivers’ the voice sneered. ‘We are not from this realm.’

“No,” Selene admitted, “but it doesn’t hurt to embrace a culture influenced by Greek and Roman roots, mixed with Arab traditions.”

The voice scoffed. ‘And what do I do? Sit around inside your head?’

“No,” she sighed, “you can help me. We both have power—unstable, yes—but together, we can control it. It’s worth a try.”

‘It might be,’ the voice muttered, doubtful.

Rolling her eyes, Selene pressed her foot on the gas, driving straight toward the town where people had been vanishing.

She arrived at the nearest motel just as the sun began to dip below the horizon. Time ticked away as she prepped for her mission—there was no room for hesitation.

Dressed in her best FBI disguise, she made her way to the police station. The visit was long and grueling, but she managed to make headway. Fortunately, the chief was willing to cooperate.

Still, alarm bells rang in her mind when she learned about a house tied to the disappearances. And worse—her powers vibrated with warning.

There was only one explanation. Lost souls had broken free onto Earth.

The echo of laughter bounced off the motel walls, followed by the rhythmic squeaking of a bed and loud moans—someone was clearly having the time of their life.

Selene groaned, grabbing her pillow and pressing it over her head, trying to block out the sounds. But the rustling of papers around her only added to the chaos.

She had fallen asleep on top of her research—documents detailing the identities of the missing people. Exhaustion had kept her from making it to the bed after finishing her work. Restoring the lost souls had drained her, but replacing the missing took even more power.

Using that level of magic was dangerous. It cost her energy and made her presence flicker on the radar of anyone watching. But rest was a necessary risk—if she wanted to leave town unnoticed, she needed at least a few hours of sleep.

Selene had just dozed off when the noises grew louder, ripping her from the edges of sleep. She groaned, pressing a pillow over her ears. Why couldn’t they have picked a room far, far away?

With a frustrated sigh, she rose onto her knees, pounding her fist against the thin motel wall. “Can you two be any more obnoxious?” she yelled.

Silence. Then—the bed squeaked harder, faster, the wall shuddering violently as the headboard slammed rhythmically.

Selene gritted her teeth, fists tightening at her sides. “Some of us have work in the morning!” she snapped.

“Fuck you!” the woman hollered back, breathless, never missing a beat. Whatever the guy was doing, he was clearly skilled, because another loud moan echoed through the wall.

“Yeah, baby!” she screamed. “Love the way you pound into me!”

Selene clenched her jaw. They were doing this on purpose. She knew better than to march next door—causing a scene would only make it worse. With one last defeated pound against the wall, she sank back onto the bed, pressing the pillow even harder against her ears, praying for the noise to end.

“Loud as you want, sweetheart!” the man praised, laughing. “I want noise complaints from the diner across the street!”

It took almost an hour before the final cry of pleasure rang out, followed by blessed silence. Selene sighed in relief, finally letting sleep pull her under.

When she woke up, exhaustion still clung to her limbs, a heaviness she couldn’t shake. She never wanted another sleepless night like this again. Gathering her things, she packed up her car, heading to the motel office to turn in her key.

As she stepped outside, she paused at the sound of a door opening beside her.

She turned her head—and there he was.

The man responsible for all the noise, stepping out of his room.

But just as she was about to dismiss him, another man followed him out.

Both men were dressed sharply in suits, but that didn’t stop her from heading straight for her car.

“Thanks for letting me have the room last night, Sammy,” the shorter man said, slapping the taller man’s shoulder with a smirk.

“Dean,” the taller one sighed, “next time, just splurge for a second room.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “See, this is why you need to get laid.”

His brother gave him a deadpan look, unamused.

“Look,” Dean huffed, “let’s just solve this case and move on to the next gig, alright?”

He strode toward the black 1967 Chevy Impala, parked right beside Selene’s car.

Selene shook her head as she clenched her jaw. So it was the short-haired one who had ruined her sleep. She gritted her teeth, pressing her lips into a tight line. Cocky, arrogant—and likely terrible in bed.

As she walked to her car, her keys jingled in her hand, the sound breaking the morning silence. She glanced up for just a moment—and suddenly, her breath hitched in her throat.

His green eyes glinted with amusement, a smirk curling his lips as he lifted a hand in a small wave.

“What was that?” Illiara mused in the depths of her mind. “Your heartbeat just jumped.”

Selene glared at him, hating the smug look he wore.

She climbed into her ‘67 Camaro, ignoring the low whistle he let out, and started the engine, peeling away from the motel. She never wanted to see that man again. And yet… she couldn’t shake the thought of what he had done to that woman last night.

The way she had moaned. The way she had screamed.

It had been a long time since Selene had been with anyone.

With a frustrated growl, she shoved the thought from her mind and focused on her next destination—a quick salt and burn in Idaho, where an angry spirit had been tormenting a lovely family.

The empty highway stretched before her, and she cranked up the volume, letting the music consume her. She sang at the top of her lungs, wind whipping past her as she raced down the road. She felt free. She felt alive.

Living wild and untamed was the only way she knew how.

She knew that moving town to town was exhausting—but it was necessary.

It was survival.

She pulled into town, finding a decent motel to shower and prep before heading out. She failed to notice the black Impala pulling in behind her. The same car from the previous town.

Walking outside in her FBI pencil skirt, crisp white button-up, and blazer, she felt eyes on her. She ignored them, slipping her sunglasses on, settling into her Camaro, and driving off. She had work to do.

Selene’s investigation proved useful—the house belonged to one of the first families to settle the town. Now, it was steeped in dark history.

She pulled up, frowning at the sight of two figures moving inside. With practiced ease, she drew her pistol, stepped forward, and pushed through the door.

“Hands in the air!” she commanded, voice sharp and authoritative.

The two men immediately complied.

“Who are you? And what are you doing in an active crime scene?”

“Officer, we can explain,” one of them said, turning around.

The moment she locked eyes with him, her stomach dropped.

The man from the former town.

The odds of them both chasing the same case were slim—but two different cases in two different towns? Even rarer.

“We can explain everything,” the taller one added.

Selene kept her grip firm on her gun. “I’m Agent Mac. You two need to vacate the premises.”

With her free hand, she flashed her badge quickly.

“Agent, this is a misunderstanding with the home office,” the shorter one said. He kept one hand raised, reaching slowly for his pocket.

Selene kept her gun trained on him, flicking her gaze toward his badge.

“Agent Plant?” she raised an eyebrow at him.

He shrugged, completely unbothered.

“You realize that impersonating a federal agent is a capital offense?” she said, watching the taller man’s eyes widen slightly.

Suddenly, a low groaning echoed through the house.

She cursed under her breath.

The ghost was here.

“Get down!” she yelled, firing a salt round at the entity.

The men dodged out of the way, shock evident on their faces.

“Damn it,” she snarled, pushing past them, ignoring their stares.

“FBI, huh?” the gruff voice murmured beside her.

She turned her head sharply, only to be met with playful green eyes and that damn smirk.

“Impersonating a federal agent is a capital offense,” he said, throwing her own words back at her.

“Hey, I’m not the one trespassing on another hunter’s hunt,” she retorted, stepping away from him.

“Who does this mortal think he is?” Illiara sneered in her mind. “Does he understand who he’s speaking to?”

“This is our hunt, sweetheart. You’re just gonna have to deal.”

He flashed that self-satisfied smile.

Selene groaned.

“Ugh, you’re one of those guys, aren’t you?”

He tilted his head, feigning confusion. “What guys?”

“The kind that thinks he can get any chick he wants,” she scoffed, firing another salt round at the ghost as it lunged.

She felt his eyes linger on her, watching the way she moved swiftly through the house.

Ignoring him, she focused on finding the one item every piece of research pointed to—a butterfly hairpin.

She could feel them following her, and sighed.

“You boys can go ahead and let a professional handle this,” she announced, stepping into the master bedroom.

She made sure they weren’t watching as she let her hands glow blue.

She hated using her power.

But this wasn’t just any ghost.

This was a lost soul—a being that had escaped the River of Lost Souls from the Underworld.

She cursed under her breath the moment she heard the men step inside the room.

Quickly, she extinguished her power, resuming her search.

“Don’t think so, sweetheart. Besides—we’re men, not boys.”

The gruff voice came closer, standing just behind her.

“Could’ve fooled me,” she muttered, smirking when she heard him scoff.

She let out a small cheer when she spotted the hairpin tucked between the bed and nightstand.

Power radiated off it.

She searched for a spot to salt and burn it when the ghost returned, furious.

Its anger struck her like a wave, her chest tightening as she collapsed, struggling to fight back.

She growled, channeling her power just enough to push it away—hoping the men hadn’t noticed.

With them distracted, she grabbed the hairpin and whispered her incantation.

“ψυχή που έχει διαφύγει την επιστροφή στον ποταμό σας περιπλάνηση, έως ότου μπορείτε να συνειδητοποιήσετε όπου ανήκετε.” (Soul that has escaped the river, return to your wandering until you realize where you belong.)

She felt her power shift the wind, burning the hairpin just as the ghost flung the tall hunter backward.

A moment later, the soul vanished—returning to the River of Lost Souls.

“Did you have to take so long?” Dean growled.

“Well… sorry for saving your sorry ass,” Selene shot back, extinguishing the fire and striding toward the exit. She heard the brothers scramble to follow her, and a low whistle carried through the air as she reached her car.

“If I had known you had good taste in cars, I would’ve asked you out.”

She turned to find green eyes scanning her, that same insufferable smirk curling his lips.

“Like I’d give you the time of day,” she scoffed, walking around to the driver’s side.

“Dean Winchester, by the way.” He gestured to the taller man beside him. “This is my brother, Sam… Maybe we could grab a beer next time we see you?” His voice carried something almost hopeful.

“In your dreams,” she said, swinging the door open. “I don’t ever want to meet you guys again.”

She climbed into the driver’s seat and slammed the door shut.

Starting the engine, she pulled onto the road and exhaled slowly. That was close. The last thing she needed was a pair of mortals seeing her use her power.

“Why were you acting like that around that pathetic mortal?” Illiara’s voice curled into her thoughts.

“Like what?” Selene muttered, glancing toward the mirror, where violet eyes gleamed back at her.

“Don’t act as if the vagabond didn’t intrigue you,” Illiara huffed. “You cannot fool me. I feel everything you do—did you forget?”

“He doesn’t interest me,” Selene denied. “He’s nothing but a revolting, bowlegged, too-cocky-for-his-own-good asshole.”

“Your insults betray you, Selene Rivers,” Illiara countered. “Don’t tell me you actually feel for that sickening mortal.” Her reflection twisted into disgust.

“I’m not arguing with you,” Selene sighed. “I know how I feel, Illiara. And Dean is nothing more than someone who will never, ever touch me.”

“Huh,” Illiara mused, arching a brow. “Calling him by his name now?”

“Fuck,” Selene muttered under her breath. “Shut up, Illiara. I’m never seeing him again. This was just coincidence.

As she sped down the highway, thoughts churned inside her. Her entire life had unraveled into chaos.

Being the daughter of Hades and Persephone, she had been a well-kept secret—a blend of her father’s darkness and her mother’s promise of spring. The Parthenon had uncovered her existence by accident only recently.

She had been playing with Cerberus, following the pull of spring alongside Persephone, when Zeus caught her scent. He summoned her to the Parthenon, and on her sixteenth birthday, she was told she would fulfill his command.

That day, she ran.

And she had been running ever since.

Now, at thirty-eight, all she wanted was to stop running and simply live.

Just as she merged onto the highway, something in the rear-view mirror made her slam the brakes.

A figure sat in her back seat.

“Hello, daughter.”

The voice sent a chill down her spine.

“Father,” she said flatly.

Dressed in a sleek black three-piece suit, jet-black hair slicked back, his sharp angular chin complemented eyes that burned an eerie blue—like flames in the dark.

In the blink of an eye, he was in the front seat as she pulled out of the parking lot.

“Stopping for even a second is dangerous, Illiara,” he warned gently.

“My name is Selene Rivers,” she snapped, hands gripping the wheel tightly. “I stopped being your daughter the moment Zeus tried to claim me for Aphrodite’s son—and I split myself in two.”

“Illiara, now is not the time for childish rebellion,” he sighed. “Come home. Your mother misses you. We need you, To louloúdi tis Levántas mou—my lavender flower.

Zeus sat upon his golden throne, his piercing gaze sweeping over the gathered deities. The air crackled with tension, the scent of divine power thick around them.

“Where is she?” he demanded, voice dripping with impatience. “I want her found and brought to me. I will not tolerate disobedience.”

Hermes stepped forward, shifting uneasily. “She is in the mortal plane,” he reported. “She tried to make herself mortal—but failed.”

A murmur spread through the crowd.

“What was she hoping to accomplish?” a voice called.

“Who knows,” another scoffed. “She is nothing but a product of the Underworld—a stain upon the world.”

Demeter’s eyes gleamed with cold satisfaction, but before she could add to the insult, Artemis stepped forward.

“Enough, Demeter,” she said sharply. “She is part of Persephone, and I suggest you choose your words carefully.”

The Harvest Goddess glared, but Artemis did not waver. She had seen the truth—the one the old tales refused to tell.

The myths claimed Hades stole Persephone away, dragging her into the Underworld. But Artemis knew better. She had been there, watching as Persephone wandered curiously into the land of the dead. She had seen her fascination, the way she studied the Underworld with something like wonder.

Most of all, she had seen how Persephone looked at Hades—not with fear, but with intrigue.

“That monster took her from the realm of light and trapped her in darkness!” Demeter spat. “For six months, she suffers in his domain while I mourn her! And you dare tell me to hold my tongue?”

Artemis’s jaw tightened. “You are mourning nothing.” Her voice was firm, unyielding. “She is happy. She is safe. Hades treats her with respect and kindness.”

“Watch your tongue!” Demeter snarled. “He took my light and smothered it!”

“Enough!” Zeus thundered, lightning flashing across the skies. The room fell into a heavy silence.

His eyes locked onto Demeter. “There is no changing the past. What’s done is done. Persephone consumed six pomegranate seeds. You know the laws of the Underworld. There is no reversing it.”

Then his gaze darkened.

“Illiara was born without my knowledge, and I will not let her roam freely. She will obey.”

Demeter smirked at Artemis, satisfied.

Zeus straightened in his throne. “Send the harpies to track her down and bring her back. And if she escapes, send more. I will summon Echidna’s children if I must—she will not defy me.”

One by one, the gods dispersed, leaving Olympus behind.

Artemis sighed, her thoughts heavy as she turned toward her brother. Apollo stood with his arms crossed, watching the sky shift as the meeting ended.

“What do you think, brother?” she asked.

He exhaled, shaking his head. “I think there will be war.” His voice was low, grave. “It is as foretold, Artemis.”

“The daughter of the herald of the dead shall split in two,” she murmured.

“And thus will begin the struggle of the gods,” Apollo finished.

Artemis’s expression hardened. “That prophecy speaks of Zeus’s downfall.”

She strode forward, Apollo walking beside her. “Illiara’s prophecy is different. It holds more details—and only Hades and Persephone know what it says.”

Apollo’s lips curled in amusement. “Given to them by the Fates.”

He pulled his car keys from his pocket, sliding into the driver’s seat of his bright yellow Mustang.

“And kept in the Lake of Forgetfulness,” he added.

Artemis nodded, eyes flickering with memory. “I saw him place it there with the guardian.”

She hesitated.

“But—” she started, then stopped.

Apollo’s window rolled down as he watched her. “But?”

She lowered her voice, as if the air itself might listen. “There is more to the prophecy,” she admitted. “And so far, the details remain… vague.”

Apollo chuckled, slipping on his sunglasses. “That is interesting.” His smirk deepened. “I’m sure everything will work out. And if not…” He grinned as he turned the engine. “…then I’ll make sure to get a front-row seat to the show.”

“You ever seen that chick before?” Dean asked, casting a glance at his brother.

The slick 1967 Chevy Impala rumbled down the highway, its engine humming beneath them as they headed toward their next destination.

Sam ran a hand through his hair, frowning slightly. “She doesn’t look familiar.” He glanced at Dean. “Why?”

Dean shifted in his seat, debating his answer. “Just—” He exhaled. “Just weird that she shows up, and I’ve never heard of her.”

Sam snorted. “You just want to know who she is so you can track her down and get her in bed with you.”

“What?!” Dean shot his brother a look of utter disbelief. “No, that’s—no.”

Sam sighed, leaning back against the seat. “I’ll ask around, see who knows her and what her name is. But she seems like someone who prefers to hunt alone.”

Dean huffed, drumming his fingers against the wheel. “I don’t care. I just want to know who she is and what her deal is.”

His grip tightened slightly, his thoughts lingering on the woman who had vanished just as quickly as she had appeared.

He leaned forward, shaking his head. “I don’t think I can get any chick I want.”

Then, with a knowing glint in his eyes, he added, “I know I can.”

As the Impala sped into the night, Dean’s smirk lingered—but beneath it, a flicker of curiosity remained.

There was something about her.

And something told him this wouldn’t be the last time they crossed paths.

Chapter 2 

Tags!

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[flamencodiva]

Update

this is just for me for reference. If people still read my fics great if not well whatever lol. Will be updating Underworld's Princess to be an OFC instead of a Reader insert. Already have 24 chapters written and ready to go. so If anyone is interested yay. if not you can just ignore it.

[flamencodiva]

Question

Anyone want a sneak peek at what I have going for Underworld's Princess?

[flamencodiva]

Work in Progress!

Now that summer is around the corner and school will be out, I will be in writing and studying mode as I begin my master classes for my master's degree. The big overhaul is with Underworld's princess I am changing it from a reader insert to an original female character. It is a big change, but I think it's for the better, and I can visualize the story more. Plus, if I ever want to turn it into a novel later on, it would make the transition easier. I will also be working on my other writings, just slowly. I am a working mom of 2 (14 and 3) and a wife with a house to help maintain while teaching high school social studies.

I hope there will be more interaction with you all, but if not, I'll still be posting either way. I can't wait for you guys to see the improved storytelling of Underworld's Princess! Not to mention what could have been will also be getting a big change too.

[flamencodiva]

Can I get the plot bunnies to stop jumping, please? I have gone from "No. Writing no happen ever" to "Here's an idea, and another idea, and a piece of dialogue that can fit into a very specific storyline over here, and you know who's awesome? This character."

[flamencodiva]

Yes! So excited!

Ya gurl is writing again! (Thank the gods, I really thought I'd completely lost my spark.) And it's some pretty good stuff. I am on a DC comics kick right now (Red Hood is living in my head rent free rn)

but I've also been rekindling my love for Jensen Ackles and all his various forms...so I have been dabbling in Soldier Boy. And I just wrote a piece of dialogue that was just...too good not to share.

***

"Most people fall over themselves for me, but you don't seem to like me at all. That's fucking weird," he says.

"Yeah, well, I've been around long enough to know that guys who look like you are generally assholes, and guys with power like you got are generally assholes. So you got about a 200% chance of being the biggest prick I ever met. Sorry, man. Don't make the rules. That's just how the math works out."

***

I'm having fun writing again!

[flamencodiva]

Show yourself some love 💜 - engagement is down and we’re all struggling with something or another. Answer this ask linking your least popular and most popular fic/art/gifset on tumblr and/or reblog them with #MiseryLoveTrain.

Send this to other creators to share the love.

Tagging people!

@writercole @holylulusworld @jensengirl83 @kickingitwithkirk @aylacavebear @caplanbuckybarnes @luci-in-trenchcoats

and if you are a writer and are reading this, You are included! I just have so many names in my head that I can only get the first ones that pop up.

[flamencodiva]

Beta Reader Needed!

I am in need of a beta reader. I am currently writing in the rewrite of Underworld's Princess and need someone to make sure the story is flowing well.

Also, if other stories could be beta read, I would greatly appreciate it!

[flamencodiva]

Beta Reader Needed!

I am in need of a beta reader. I am currently writing in the rewrite of Underworld's Princess and need someone to make sure the story is flowing well.

Also, if other stories could be beta read, I would greatly appreciate it!

[flamencodiva]

Beta Reader Needed!

I am in need of a beta reader. I am currently writing in the rewrite of Underworld's Princess and need someone to make sure the story is flowing well.

Also, if other stories could be beta read, I would greatly appreciate it!

[flamencodiva]

FANFICTION FRIDAYS

This week I moved the # from 38 to 40.

Here are my picks for Dec 20th 2024, please go give them a read:

Against the Wind by @zepskies - You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return. (Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader, Supernatural) [personal note: did Christmas come early in the form of this story? Hell yes, it did. Not to coincide with the theme but Alpha!Dean? I will bite, I will scratch, I will...lick...okay, this just got weird, so sorry, I'm putting myself back in my corner now, all good]

Hey Buddy by @luci-in-trenchcoats - Request: Dean x reader, where reader ran off not knowing she was pregnant, and Sam brings her back with their 2 year old. Dean should be mad, but really he’s just glad she’s back (Dean Winchester x Reader, Supernatural) [personal note: omg I don't think you realize just how much this just melts me, like the Dorothy and the Wicked Witch can't compete. Chocolate and high heat have nothing on me.]

Shadow and Sin by @blackleatherjacketz - Having just recently moved to New Orleans, you get intimately acquainted with both Mikaelson brothers, but don't find out who they truly are until it's too late. (Elijah Mikaelson x Reader, Klaus Mikaelson x Reader, The Originals) [personal note: Both Mikaleson brothers? Where's the front of the line, people???]

Twinkling Tree Dreams by @winchestergirl2 - Trying to spread some christmas cheer doesn’t go quite how you planned, but maybe it will turn out even better than you hoped. (Alec McDowell x Reader, Dark Angel) [personal note: Girl, where is my Alec from your writings of him under my tree??? No bow required. I'm waiting...]

Shout by @blackleatherjacketz - You’ve been with Shane since he left Rick’s group in Season 2, and you need to seek shelter from the rain. (Shane Walsh, The Walking Dead) [personal note: okay, I'm gonna need Shane now, too. Hand him over.]

Forgiven by @darsynia - Since dropping out of school to care for your sister, your daydream has been that a rich, handsome man will save you from drowning in debt. Until then (read: never), you’ll work hard at your new receptionist job and try not to ogle the impossibly hot construction guy working in the foyer… (Steve Rogers x Female!Reader, MCU) [personal note: hot CEO! Steve Rogers and workplace romance vibes? Sign me up!]

Terms and Conditions by @that-sarcastic-writer - when your sister's fiance goes missing, you call Colter for help, and he brings along his rugged, but handsome and charming older brother, Russell. (Russell Shaw x Doctor Female!Reader, Tracker) [personal note: Good God, I need me some Russell]

You can either lead, follow, or get out of the way by @bullet-prooflove (Young!John Dutton x Reader, Yellowstone) [personal note: I've always had a love and hate relationship with John but this started an itch for him I didn't even know I had...no, not that kind of itch...maybe...]

Good Morning by @justrainandcoffee - It's 2012 when Hannah received a call from an important executive to work with them. She's a great musician only until that moment she didn't have the chance to really show her natural talent. The BBC offered her the opportunity to finally do it and at the same time the opportunity to meet him. || Three years later, everything is very different. Two different realities linked by the same phrase: “good morning.” (Tom Hardy x Female!OC, RPF) [personal note: I was so very excited to see a fic for him!!!]

Muddy Waters by @waynes-multiverse - After a mud run and several drinks, Jensen finally gathers his courage and makes a move on a longtime friend he’s been crushing on for a while. Are his feelings reciprocated, though? (Jensen Ackles x Musician!Reader, RPF) [personal note: Mud Run!Jensen and best friends to lovers combined? I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE!]

Love To Hate You by @deanwanddamons - Y/N and Soldier Boy hate each other, but can’t resist one another when they meet again after many years apart. (Soldier Boy x Supe Female!Reader, The Boys) [personal note: Holy fu-- excuse me, I need an ice cold shower, like right now, dayum...]

Let It Snow by @wayward-dreamer - As snow begins to fall, Dean and Y/N some much needed cuddling time in the perfect ambience they’ve created for themselves. (Dean Winchester x Female!Reader, Supernatural) [personal note: OMG LOVE LOVE LOVE this!!!]

Presents & Gingerbread by @lila-lou - Ben has little interest in the season’s traditions but keeps up with the wrapping and decorations just to see you happy. Still, it didn’t take long for him to draw your attention away from the preparations, making it clear that you’re the only thing he cares about. (Soldier Boy x Reader, The Boys) [personal note: oh yeah, this hits the spot...something Ben is probably also saying at this very moment if not soon enough no doubt ;)]

Merry Christmas Sweetheart by @jawritter - Time doesn’t heal all wounds, sometimes it just drives them into our bones and festers there, until forgiveness is a four letter word, and it’s to late for second chances. (Jensen Ackles x Reader, RPF) [personal note: this tore my heart out of my chest and stomped on it so good...don't kink shame me]

Hurt So Good by @nightxcreature - After the reader makes a comment about missing Dean’s leather jacket and the old days, he takes matters into his own hands and takes her on the hunt of her life. (Dean Winchester x Reader, Supernatural) [personal note: (cries) where is my Dean doing this for me? (stomps foot extremely dramatically and then remembers my age and goes back to my corner of shame)]

Something serious by @jessjad - Beau and Y/N spend a summer evening together. But do they both expect the same thing? (Beau Arlen x Reader, Big Sky) [personal note: they better...if not I can take one for the team...or two....or three...or -- stopping right there before this gets any worse]

The One That Got Away by @justwhisperingfantasies - You thought you had left Supernatural and Jensen in the past, but almost 6 years later you get roped back in when your job is on the line. (Jensen Ackles x Reader, RPF) [personal note: not going to lie you can't put Jensen and the word "roped" in the same sentence, you just can't do it, not with me]

I Got You by @janicho88 - When you have finally reached a breaking point, you call the one person you trust for help. He’s never seen you as more than a friend, but he is the person you know you’re safest with. It’s been months since he has had so much as a text from you, but Jake Seresin would do anything for the Navy princess he met years ago. The pilot knows she means more to him than he ever will to her, but he will do anything for her (Jake Seresin x Reader, Top Gun Franchise) [personal note: oh my gawd, just give him to me now, GIVE HIM TO ME]

Meet Cute by @lamentationsofalonelypotato - Reader is surviving in the apocalypse alone, until she meets a stranger who needs her help, even if he doesn't want to admit it. This is a reimagining of when Daryl gets hurt trying to find Sophia in Season 2, in which the reader shoots Daryl instead of Andrea. This can be read as stand alone, but can also be read as a prequel fic to "Your Fault," describing how reader and Daryl met for the first time. (Daryl Dixon x Female!Reader, The Walking Dead) [personal note: I've never been one for Daryl in reader-insert fic before but this definitely is changing my mind!]

Losing You by @thesilmarillionblog - Everything was good as a member of Payback and Soldier Boy's secret girlfriend until the team and your relationship with him began to fall apart due to a new member and her developing relationship with Ben right in front of your eyes. (Soldier Boy x Reader, The Boys) [personal note: any SB fic that starts with this line: '“Get lost fuckface and bring me a coffee,”' certainly has my attention]

forgtten birthday by @chevroletdean - Alec is new to the concept of birthdays, considering he doesn’t even really have one himself. When his s/o is sulky all day, he’s confused, until their friends throw them a surprise party and he realizes he’s messed up big time. (Alec McDowell x GN!Reader, Dark Angel) [personal note: OMG I love my boy Alec so much]

The Chocolate Chip Kind by @beyourownanchor6 - Eddie just wants to sleep, Buck can't let him, not until after midnight. (Buddie, 911 - AO3) [personal note: you always have to have some Buddie goodness and that's precisely what this is!]

Starry Night by @romancingromanoff (Natasha Romanoff x Reader, MCU) [personal note: perfection for this character (happy sigh)]

Princess Treatment by @storiesofsvu (Terry Bruno x Reader x Joe Velasco, Law & Order: SVU) [personal note: I'm still power washing the floor in the spot where I completely melted, holy Christmas, give me these two in a hotel room any day]

Forever Yours by @justagirlinafandomworld - Song Prompt from Unclaimed Love Songs: Faithfully by Journey (Bradley Bradshaw x Female!Reader) [personal note: YES, YES, YES!!!]

In Every Realm by @caplanbuckybarnes - he vows to love you in every universe (Sub-Zero x Reader, Mortal Kombat) [personal note: the young girl in me literally squealed and my heart grew about three sizes seeing this, he was always one of my faves!]

A Sudden Spark by @gloomwitchwrites - Request: The reader is Aragorn's older sister. A ranger and a renowned warrior. After Eomer personally meets the owner of the stories he's been hearing for years, he may begin to fall in love with her. (Eomer x Female!Reader, Lord of the Rings) [personal note: my first Eomer x Reader fic and it did not disappoint!]

Untitled by @catierambles (Captain Syverson x Reader, Sand Castle) [personal note: the fic for this character that I didn't know I needed!]

Request by @imyourbratzdoll - you and the chief get freaky in his car (Charlie Swan x Female!Reader, Twilight) [personal note: (raises hand) What does one have to do to be arrested by Chief Swan exactly? ...Asking for a friend]

The Storm Outside by @bullet-prooflove - Larry comforts you during a stormy night (Captain Larry James x Reader, Walker) [personal note: Storm ambience? Check. One hot ass man that I can also call Captain for fun if I want to? Check. Comforting me in my time of need? Check. Am I torn between wanting to melt into goo and using a squirt bottle on myself to stop fantasizing about him? Check. Check. Am I probably going to have to go with the latter option? Triple check.]

Waiting for the Real Thing by @rizlowwritessortof - You can’t serve in the same unit with somebody without getting pretty close. She managed to survive around him until a couple of years ago. And when she hears about their brother-in-arms troubles, she heads that way to help out. Of course, Russ beat her to it. And now she just can’t make herself leave without seeing him. (Russell Shaw x OC, Tracker) [personal note: you can't see it but I'm foaming at the mouth right now and as you may have expected, it's not a pretty sight]

Dancing Doll by @flamencodiva - Dancing Flamenco has always been a part of Y/N. But she never thought it would put her in the crosshairs of someone dangerous. How did her life end up with twists and turns? And can a green-eyed mechanic really help her? Or will she just put him in harm’s way? (Mechanic!Dean Winchester x Reader, Supernatural) [personal note: Flamenco and Dean??? Where is the line where I sign away my soul?]

Sinnerman by @venus-haze - You can’t even see your old life from Crockett Island, but nevertheless it weighs on your conscience like an anchor on the ocean floor. Father Paul Hill tries to pull the anchor up, only to sink your whole damn ship. (Father Paul Hill x Reader, Midnight Mass) [personal note: Girl, I am about to devour your horror/slasher masterlist...incoming!!!]

Stoking the Flame by @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior - Jenny and Beau have been ignoring the spark between them for a long time. How much longer can they continue? (Beau Arlen x Jenny Hoyt, Big Sky) [personal note: I'm not much of a Beau x Jenny fan, but this was so good and surprisingly satisfying for something within me for my two favorite characters on that show]

any way that you want me by @deanbrainrotwritings - he’s clingy and doesn’t know how else to feel close to her. even though it gets them both riled up, it’s nice while it lasts. (Boaz Priestly x Female!Reader, Ten Inch Hero) [personal note: PLEASE give me clingy!Priestly any day of the week, P L E A S E]

Because of You by @spn-bee - Dean Winchester, a 30-year-old hunter, rolled in to a college town to unwind. Reima M. Park-Gibbs, a 22-year-old college student was the lucky or unlucky encounter. They both got what they wanted, along with unexpected consequences. Dean will now have to protect her and his unborn child while convincing her she belongs to and with him. (Dean Winchester x OC, Supernatural) [personal note: (happy sigh with heart eyes and dopey smile) I just love this]

The Edge of Fate by @deanwinchesterswitch - AU. Cursed by a jealous witch, Benny and Isalie must wander through time to find their way back to each other. (Benny Lafitte x Female!OC, Supernatural) [personal note: yes, Benny!!! I also may call him Sir...on Thursdays and Saturdays and every other Wednesday...just saying...(winces) yeah, that was TMI, wasn't it?]

Home by @syrma-sensei - Ben's discovering new life affairs while expecting his first baby. (Soldier Boy x Wife!Reader, The Boys) [personal note: Ben as a dad gets me every time (more happy sighs)]

Running Away by @jensengirl83 - Sam has feelings for the reader, but what happens when he finally gets the courage to find her and tell her the truth? (Sam Winchester x Reader, Supernatural) [personal note: Awww, Sam...I need more Sam in my life, I cannot even tell you]

When the Lines Blur by @pink-sparkly-witch - Y/N Y/L/N and Jeffrey Dean Morgan have been a successful porn couple for a few years. When Jeff decides it’s time for him to retire, he helps Y/N find his replacement who might become more than just a porn partner. (Jeffrey Dean Morgan x Reader, Jensen Ackles x Reader, RPF) [personal note: okay I never quite saw myself in the adult entertainment business at any point in my life for...reasons but here....um, how does one get hired to work with either man (or both, I'm not picky) on set?]

Looking for more? Please check out my fic rec lists and writers rec lists (1, 2, 3). I do have some things to update like the Beau stories list, Alec, Russell, Jensen, Soldier Boy, Dean, etc (and I promise I will when I hopefully get more time in January) and I do have some more coming out like for Joe Velasco, Bobby Reyes, Law & Order: SVU, LOTR, etc.

In the meantime, if you'd like to peruse even more stories that are on my reading lists, please check out @biggerbearsreads and @tbbrebloglibrary (which will eventually take place of the 1st - tbbrl will be more organized by tags, etc) or you can check out @biggerbearficrecs.

So I threw a ton into this one due to the holidays coming up (and some little personal notes, sorry, sometimes I actually think I'm funny 🤷‍♀️). I hope you all enjoy the time whatever you might celebrate or if you don't, then I hope you've been able to find some of the amazing stories on this list that might keep you company and provide some comfort or give you the warm fuzzies, whatever you're in need of! I wish all of you the very best!!! ❤️❤️

And please don’t forget when you come across any and all creative content on here to:

And please always reblog! Thank you!

dividers by @saradika-graphics