#Hera and Zeus angst? Yes

[0lympian-c0uncil]

Hebe,*About Hera*: She looks so angry...

Zeus: ...

Hebe: Why does everyone always look at you that way?

Zeus: .....

[hotchnisslvr]

“Power Struggle”

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Reader

Rating: M

Category: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 7.2k

Summary: For months, you and SSA Aaron Hotchner have been toeing the boundary between romance and your careers. When the unsub that's been killing women in Michigan by way of replicating Zeus' punishments from Greek mythology takes you as his next victim, it's up to Hotch and the rest of the BAU team to find you before it's too late. Hurt/comfort and angst with happy ending.

Tags: graphic depictions of violence, reader kidnapped by unsub, blood, implied SA, nudity, electrocution, scarring, hospitals

“You’re telling me someone is out here killing people to recreate, what? Greek legends?” Sheriff McCullen’s brow pinches as he shakes his head.

“Legends are stories often loosely based on a real person or event to teach us a lesson. Mythology is based on supernatural or sacred lore and explains why things came to be. It’s a common mistake.” Reid speaks quickly and methodically, as if reciting from a textbook. “It’s straight out of the mythos,” he explains, his voice tinged with something akin to excitement as he approaches the whiteboard where photos of the victims had been pinned up for review. Using a ballpoint pen as a pointer, he taps the first image of the first victim. “Regina Manford, she was found tied to a boulder in Craig Lake State Park with her liver removed. Animal predation showed birds had pecked at her while she was still alive. In Greek mythology, Zeus did this to Prometheus to exact revenge on him after he stole fire to give to man.”

Reid moves on to the next victim, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he did so. “Sarah Walters was found bound to an old water wheel that had been set on fire. Greek Mythology suggests this is a copy of Zeus’ punishment for Ixion.”

“And what did he do to deserve that?” asks the sheriff.

Reid’s lips form a tight line. “He was invited into Zeus’ home on Olympus. After attempting to seduce his wife, Hera, Zeus punished him by binding him to a wheel of fire cursed to spin forever toward the underworld. She might’ve smiled or even looked at him, and in his delusion believed she was a seductress deserving of punishment.”

“So, what? This guy sees himself as some sort of god?”

“We believe that is his delusion, yes,” answers Emily. “Each victim also bore signs of sexual trauma, this is something Zeus is also renowned for in the mythology. Our unsub thinks he’s infallible and that these women’s lives and deciding when and how these women live and die is his divine right.”

“Do we know if there will be more victims?” asks one of the detectives.

You step forward from your place between Morgan and Hotchner. “Given the number of victims Zeus punished within the mythology, we can assume he is not finished. These kills are two weeks apart. It’s been twelve days since the last body was found. We can only assume he’s currently hunting for his next victim. And when he finds one, he convinces her to go to a second location. It's once they leave the primary location that he attacks. In each case, the victim suffered a blow to the head, leaving a uniquely shaped gash in her forehead. This suggests that he strikes them with a distinct blunt object or even a ring that’s on his hand.”

“We need every man out on the streets,” Hotch states, his eyes hard as he scans the group of law enforcement gathered to receive the profile. “He stalks his victims in the city, often on the weekends when night life is busiest. He’s charming. He has no problem approaching women because he views himself as a deity and carries himself with the arrogance and confidence of one. He’s white, in his early to mid 30s, good looking, charming, and likely has a career that would’ve provided him with medical training.”

A female detective with short blonde hair sticks her pencil in the air. “How do we know that?”

“The incisions made on Regina’s body were clean, precise, and showed no signs of hesitation,” explains Rossi. “The M.E. also informed us that the hepatic artery was clamped off, meaning,” Rossi hesitates before continuing on, “meaning Regina Mansford was alive as her liver was being cut from her body.”

An uncomfortable murmuring breaks out. Hotch raises a hand, silencing them. Your mouth goes dry and you swallow, hoping your team doesn’t notice the way your eyes dilate when you look at him and the silent way in which he can command a room.

“This is why we need every available officer on the streets. Increase units in the downtown area. Have plain clothes officers on the streets. That’s where we’ll be. Thank you.” Hotch tucks his head and sweeps out of the bullpen, the rest of the team trailing after him into the conference room.

“Where do you want us?” asks Morgan as you shut the door to the conference room.

“Reid, I want you here working the geographical profile. See if there’s anything we missed that could bring us closer to a precise location where he’s kidnapping his victims. Rossi and JJ, I want you to go back to Sarah’s apartment and see if we missed anything that tells us where she was exactly on the night she was kidnapped. Derek and Emily take the north side of downtown.” He inclines his head toward you. “You and I will take the south side.”

His eyes linger on yours a moment longer than they ought to have. You dip your head and swiftly exit the room, jacket in hand as you prepare to brave not only the frigid Michigan cold but working one one-on-one with Hotch. This had been going on for months; subtle looks, brief touches where his fingers would slide over yours while passing off a case file…yet a part of you still wasn’t sure if it would ever go any further than that. You spend so much of your time with the team, it would be so easy to mistake one gesture for something that it wasn’t. Yet you knew that wasn’t true. You know behavior. You’re trained to recognize the subtlest of shifts in demeanor and body language and you know exactly what is going on.

You jump as someone pushes through the front door of the precinct. Emily’s gentle laugh disrupts your rumination. “Sorry,” she says, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

She moves to stand closer to you as she zips her jacket. “The guys went to grab the cars.”

You nod and shove your hands in your pockets.

Emily arches a perfectly manicured brow. “What’s up?”

You school your expression and feign nonchalance. “Nothing, I just want to catch this guy before he hurts anyone else.”

Emily’s brow furrows and then straightens, a glimmer of knowing in her eye. “Something tells me there’s a different guy on your mind.”

Your heart skips a beat and you nearly choke on the crisp winter air. “What? I don’t—“ Your words falter as Derek and Hotch arrive, the SUVs humming to a gentle stop at the curb.

Emily eyes you, a sly smile curving one side of her red lips. “We’ll talk later.” She winks and steps forward to open the passenger side door, sliding inside and disappearing into the dark interior.

As you turn to move toward the SUV, Hotch is there, opening the door for you. The gesture surprises you, but it shouldn’t. He’d been doing little things like this for weeks now. You nod your head in thanks and as you turn your body to slide past him, his hand catches your hip. Your breath hitches in your throat as his fingers glide against the small of your back, guiding your movement into the vehicle.

His hard eyes meet yours as he shuts the door and you’re grateful for the shadows inside the car as you feel your face flush bright red. Hotch slides into the driver’s seat with ease. He shifts the car into gear and pulls onto the road, heading in the direction of downtown.

After a few minutes, you open your mouth to disrupt the silence, but his cell rings. Hotch answers and places it on speaker as JJ’s voice floats through the receiver, “Hotch, we think we’ve got something at Sarah Walters apartment.”

“What’s that?” you ask.

“There’s a sticky note in her trash can,” a garbled sound echoes through the speaker as she shifts the phone. The sound of paper crinkles as she reads, “Tony’s at 9, does that mean anything? Has Garcia come across a Tony in any of her research into the victims’ lives? Maybe an Anthony?”

An image of a neon sign flashes across your mind’s eye. “It’s a bar,” you say matter-of-factly.

“A bar?”

“I remember seeing the sign on our drive-in. It’s a bar on the south side of downtown. That could be where he’s meeting these women.”

“We’re only a few blocks away, we’ll head there now. Thank you, JJ.” He hangs up and slips the phone into his jacket pocket.

“How do you want to play this?” you ask.

“We go in, make observations, see if we can identify anyone that matches the profile.”

You smirk and a small laugh escapes your lips.

“Something funny?” Hotch asks, his voice low in his throat.

You purse your lips, pausing before you proceed. “If we go in looking like feds, we’ll scare this guy away.” You tilt your head, considering. “Well, one of us anyway.”

A slight twitch in his brow is the only indication your words have just barely gotten under his skin. “Touched a nerve, sir?”

As the traffic light ahead blinks red, he eases the car to a stop. He breathes out slowly, the amber glow of the stoplight reflecting in his eyes. In less than two heartbeats, he thrusts the car into park and with both hands clasps your face, drawing you in to kiss you with such fervor white spots dot your vision. It takes a moment to process the heat of his mouth on yours and the way his tongue slides between your lips, and before you can truly reciprocate the light turns green and he pulls back, his breathing ragged against your mouth as his forehead touches yours. “Be careful when and how you choose to call me sir.”

Before you can exhale, his eyes are on the road again and you’re driving deeper into downtown.

“Understood,” and then you add, almost imperceptibly, “sir.”

A small smile quirks at the corner of his lips, but he says nothing more as you approach your destination.

It's nearing 9:30pm when you pull up on the street parallel to Tony’s. People trickle in and out of the bar in groups of twos and threes; most are young, in their mid to late twenties.

“Right,” you say as you unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to exit the vehicle. “Stay here.”

“Excuse me?” Hotch asks, reaching over your lap and grabbing your wrist to stay your hand from popping the door open. Your breathing stills and he just barely turns his face toward yours. “Since when do you give me orders?”

Unsure where the confidence to challenge him comes from, you lean in near his ear. You swallow once before speaking. “I think you like taking them.” Feeling incredibly brazen, you nip at his ear once and as the unexpected gesture disarms him; flick your wrist out of his grasp and pop the door open. You slide out of the car and are immediately greeted by the frigid January air eliciting goosebumps up and down your arms. Extending an arm overhead to hang on to the frame of the SUV; you lean down into the cab of the vehicle. “I’ve got you right here,” you say as you tap the hidden earpiece. “Let me know if you see anyone from the outside that fits the profile.”

Hotch eyes you and there’s a fierceness in his gaze. You wonder if he’s thinking of how he’ll ultimately retaliate for your little role reversal now that he’s gone and upped the ante in this little game of cat and mouse. “See you soon,” you wink and slam the door shut.

As you approach the bar, you make sure your coat is buttoned in a way that hides your sidearm and credentials from sight. The bouncer doesn’t even pretend to ask for an ID as you approach and move through the front door with ease. As you cross through the threshold, your senses are assaulted by the smell of beer on tap, the sharp tang of liquor, grease, and an amalgamation of perfumes and colognes.

Immediately you begin scanning the room. You note the layout of the bar: three exits for patrons, the one you just came in through, one near the bathrooms for cigarette smokers, and an emergency exit on the far right wall near to the kitchen. There are three pool tables all of which are occupied as well as three dart boards along the far wall. Groups of friends engage one another and dates carry on without a hitch. You approach the bar, which is centered along the far wall. Stools line the high countertop and behind the bar, two women work to fulfill the never-ending drink orders. You approach the bar and slide into one of the empty seats, relaxing your shoulders as you do so, and order a rum and coke that you don’t plan on drinking.

After a moment the bartender drops a cocktail napkin in front of you and places the drink on top. You thank her and stir the contents of the drink with the swizzle stick popped inside.

“Is this seat taken?” an unfamiliar voice causes the hair on the back of your neck to prickle and you know immediately that it’s him.

Painting on a saccharine sweet smile, you turn toward the voice. A white man, standing at about 6’2”, is smiling down at you. The neon lights behind the bar reflect in his blue-gray eyes and his honey blonde hair falls in soft waves to his shoulders. “Please,” you say demurely and gesture toward the seat. You tell him your name and continue smiling.

“Ronan Carlson,” he introduces himself as he slides in beside you and adjusts the lapels on his leather jacket, a fake Rolex peeking out from his sleeve. He’s preening, you think to yourself. The bartender approaches from behind the bar and he smiles, the curve of his lips the opening act of his charming performance. “I’ll have what she’s having, thank you.” He pulls a roll of cash from the inner pocket of his jacket, flips through several bills, and pulls a $100 bill free before sliding it across the counter to her.

The bartender’s eyes widen in surprise and he winks at her. She nods her thanks and turns to make his drink.

“That was very kind of you,” I say, stirring my drink for the thirteenth time.

He shrugs and tips the baseball cap he’s wearing down over his eyes and you know it’s to obstruct the view the cameras have of him. “It’s only money, and I think I may have made her night.” He inclines his head toward the bartender whose head is bent close to the other woman’s. She’s smiling wide and shows her the $100 bill.

Internally, you roll your eyes hard, but externally you smile and look at him from beneath your lashes. “You must have a great job, what do you do for work?”

His hand flexes as he sets his drink down on the counter and you note the two chunky platinum rings he wears on his right hand. There are symbols etched into them offset by different colored stones, but you don’t want him to catch you staring as he answers, “I’m in business for myself these days,” he says with no further explanation. “Though I used to be in the military.”

You feign surprise, though you were hopeful he’d continue to divulge information. “The military, wow. Let me guess,” you pause and allow your eyes to slowly scan him from head to toe. You remember the profile. “Army…medic.”

“Reign it in,” you hear Hotchner’s voice through the earpiece. “Be mindful of how much you reveal to him. Don’t let him know you know more about him than he’s letting on.”

You watch him assess you and your read into him. One blonde brow creeps up toward his hairline and that wicked smile curves his lips again. “Excellent guess, how do you figure?”

Leaning on to your forearms, you push your drink aside and slide your hand over his and you don’t miss the way his fingers tense at your touch.

“It’s the hands,” you say coyly. “You look like you know how to handle yourself.” He relaxes under your touch and a heat ignites in his eyes that makes your stomach churn, but you don’t let it show on your face. “You look like you know how to handle a lot of things.”

He licks his lips and turns the ring on his finger. “Tell you what,” he says as he picks up his drink. He places the glass to his lips and downs its contents. “Why don’t we get out of here?” He looks down at you from beneath dark lashes. “And I’ll show you just how much I can handle.”

You stand up and flash him a grin. “Let me quickly freshen up and I’ll meet you out front.”

His lips quirk into a smirk, “I’ll meet you in the parking lot.”

You smile as you slip away toward the bathroom. As you push through the crowd you inform Hotch that the unsub is on his way out.

“There’s a line growing out the door,” he answers over the earpiece. “Does the description match the profile?”

“To a T,” you answer as you push past a couple with their tongues in each other's mouths. The amount of patrons has increased dramatically over the last hour. The volume of the music makes it hard to hear through the earpiece. You push your way into the restroom and are surprised to find it empty. Fortunately, the outside noise is muffled. You begin to describe Ronan’s appearance and note the jacket and hat he’s wearing. “He’s wearing two oddly shaped rings,” you add. “I think it’s what’s caused the unusual injury to the victims’ faces.”

“I’ve got him. He’s cutting through the line toward the parking lot.” You hear the car door open and slam.

“Got it, I’ll be right there.”

“Good work,” Hotch says over the open line.

You smile to yourself as you unbutton your jacket, glad to be on the receiving end of his praise. For a split second you wonder what else you could be on the receiving end of if you continue to play this game with him. After the case, you remind yourself. Priorities. Priority number one is getting this sick bastard off the street, and he’s right here within your grasp. You shoulder the door as you reach for your gun, positioning your thumb over the rotating hood to dislodge your weapon from its holster.

Over the speakers, an employee is calling to celebrate someone’s birthday. The crowd is distracted and pushing toward the source of celebration. The bar erupts into an off key rendition of Happy Birthday but you don’t hear it as 30,000 volts of electricity course through your veins. Your muscles spasm and lock up as you fall forward. Pain radiates from your abdomen in waves that crash over you again and again. You try to tell your body what to do as strong arms catch you and pull you into a chest that smells like cigarette smoke, but your limbs don’t cooperate. You feel his nose root into your hair as his lips find your ear. “How’s that for capable?”

As he shoulders your weight and steers you out through the emergency exit you hear Hotch’s voice in your ear. “It’s not him!” There’s an edge of panic in his voice as he says your name. “Do you copy? It’s not him. He gave another man $500 to wear his hat and jacket into the parking lot. It’s not him. Do you have eyes on him?”

Dark spots the edges of your vision as he drags your dead body weight. You try to focus all of your ability on getting out any words that can signal to Hotchner what’s happening, any at all but your mouth feels like it’s filled with cotton.”

You hear the tinkling of keys and a door slide open. Pain rattles through your skull as he throws you into the back of whatever vehicle he’s operating. Pain slices through your wrists as zip ties slice through the skin there. Through tunnel vision you see him leering at you. He’s backlit by the streetlights.

As his fist flies toward you, you finally manage one word.

“Aaron.”

•

When you come to, the first thing you feel before the splitting pain in your head threatens to cleave your mind in two, is cold.

Your mouth is dry, but as you move to lick your lips you realize you can’t because there’s a gag in your mouth. You try to move your hands, but they’re bound too. Zip ties cut into each wrist, securing them at your sides on the legs of a wooden chair. When you try to shift the chair, you learn that it’s bolted to the floor and your legs are spread open; zip ties at your knees and ankles keep them apart. Except for your bra and underwear, you’re naked. He undressed you. You feel the wound from the stun gun before you glance down at your stomach and see the two bloody pinpricks in your abdomen. You feel your heart rate increase as panic begins to set in. Do not panic , you tell yourself as you take a steadying breath. The minute you start to panic, you’re dead. You close your eyes and piece together the last dredges of your memory.

Tony’s. Sitting at the bar. The unsub. Ronan. Hotch was in pursuit. And then there was just pain.

Hotch.

The pain in your skull is overwhelming and you’re not sure if you can feel the earpiece anymore.

“Hotch,” you attempt to say through the gag. “Hotch, do you read me?”

You close your eyes as hot tears brim along your lash line when there’s no response. The signal is out of range or the unsub found the earpiece and removed it.

A door creaks open on squeaky hinges and your eyes dart toward the source of the sound. Ronan walks through the door with a sick smile on his face. As he saunters toward you, he rolls the sleeves of his flannel up to his elbows. Without looking away from you, his arm drops to his side and he scoops a folding metal chair with one hand, carrying it with him as he edges closer to you.

You flinch as he cracks the chair down in front of you, forcing it open. He chuckles as he takes a seat. His eyes skirt the length of your body and you wish any limb were free to deliver a blow to his smug face.

He reaches into his back pocket and withdraws your badge. He flips it open and holds it up to your face, the way his eyes flit between you and your credentials makes your lip curl.

“An FBI agent,” he says slowly. He slaps your credentials shut against his denim-clad thighs. “Hot damn!” he shouts and whoops. He throws your badge to the wayside and it clatters against the cement floor. “I’m going to take my time with you.”

It could’ve been hours. It could’ve been minutes. The torture is unrelenting and the pain is unending. Your chest heaves as you brace yourself for the next surge of electricity. Ronan, if that’s even his real name, twists the knob on the amplifier and taps the jumper cable clamps in his hands together. He smiles when he hears the buzz of electricity between them. As he presses them into your thighs, you cry out in pain as the shockwaves paralyze your body and mind and the pain overwhelms you.

“YES!” he roars as he pulls them away from you. He’d taken his flannel off, but now he peels off his t-shirt, balls it up, and uses it to wipe the sweat off of his face.

With the voltage no longer coursing through your veins, you slump forward, chest heaving as your scrambled brain fights to stay alert.

He drops the cables and clasps your face in his hand, forcing your chin up to meet his wild eyes. “You just don’t quit, do you? You're special.” He strokes your cheeks with his thumbs as if he cherishes what he’s doing to you. “You are worthy of a god.”

When you come to Ronan is watching you. He’s leaning forward, elbows on his knees, chin resting on his clasped hands.

“She wakes,” he muses.

You glare at him and his brow pinches. He purses his lips together like he’s been stung, but his eyes are alight with amusement.

“You,” he says, gesturing up and down your body, “look beautiful.”

You don’t need to look down to know the number of bloodied burn wounds spanning the lengths of your legs. If you couldn’t keep track of any other thought, the count was all that kept you grounded. There were ten. Five on each leg. Your wrists and ankles bled from the way you’d pulled against them with every shock he delivered.

He reaches forward and this time you don’t flinch. He hooks two fingers into the gag and pulls it down over your chin, his fingers trailing your lips as he does so.

“Here,” he says, bringing a bottle of water to your lips. “Drink.”

You clamp your lips shut and turn your face away. He laughs and shakes his head. “Come on now, don’t refuse me. That’s not how you show gratitude when a god shows you mercy.”

You muster as much hatred into your stare as you focus your attention back on him. “Mercy?” you hiss, and your voice is hoarse from screaming against the gag. It hurts to speak. You pull against your restraints. “This is what you call mercy?”

“I’m only testing you to see if you’re worthy,” he says by way of explanation. "You've lasted longer than the others."

“Worthy of what?” you ask, but you already know the answer.

“To be my Hera.”

“How is what you’re doing to me, what you did to those other women, going to help you find her?”

“They weren’t worthy,” he answered. “They couldn’t take my power like you could, my lightning. They were false. They needed to be punished.”

He leans in, his lips close enough to yours that you can feel his smoky breath on your skin. “But you, you deserve to be rewarded.” Your skin bristles at his words. His lips find your jawline and you grimace as he drags them up the side of your face. When he pulls away, dried blood flakes onto his skin.

“Don’t be afraid,” he soothes as he smoothes your sweat-drenched hair away from your face. “You’ll enjoy it.”

Unable to suffer any more of his poisonous bullshit, you rear your head back and slam it forward. Pain explodes behind your forehead, but it’s worth it to hear the satisfying crunch of his nose breaking. He roars in pain and clutches his bleeding nose. White light blinds you as he backhands you and curses your name. His ring splits the skin of your cheek open. The force of the blow causes you to bite your lip and you feel your teeth cut into the chapped skin there. You spit blood at him, angering him further.

“You are false!” he screams, spittle flying from his mouth as he shoves the gag back into your mouth. “You are not her!” He moves to pick up the jumper cables, twisting the knob of the amplifier all the way up causing the bulbs overhead to flicker. You know this is it. If he touches you with those, it will kill you.

Bracing yourself for the killing blow, you go to the grave knowing you did not give in to this bastard.

It never lands.

Instead, three shots ring out and he’s falling to the floor dead at your feet. As the unsub’s body falls, Hotchner’s frame comes into view and a choked sob escapes your lips. He holsters his weapon and runs to you. Emily and Morgan are right behind him. Morgan passes Hotch a Swiss Army knife from his pocket and he makes quick work of the zip ties binding you to the chair. From the corner of your eye, you see Emily turn off the amplifier and check Ronan’s pulse.

Unable to hold yourself up, you fall forward into his ready arms, letting yours fall over his shoulders. Hotch drops to his knee to support your weight. “You’re okay,” he says as he pulls the gag free from your mouth and you sob into his chest. He smooths your hair back from your face, his eyes assessing the damage done to you. Blood stains his shirt, your blood.

“Morgan, your jacket.” Hotch orders.

Without hesitation, Morgan unfastens his bulletproof vest and unzips his jacket. He passes it to Hotch who drapes it around your shoulders in an attempt to preserve some of your modesty.

“I need a medic!” he shouts before directing his attention back to you.

Your eyes waver as you try to keep them open. You lock in on the depths of his warm brown eyes. “You’re going to be fine,” he says but his voice sounds far away.

“He wanted someone to be his Hera,” you say weakly.

“Don’t worry about that right now,” Hotch soothes.

You swallow and it hurts your throat to do so. Your lips crack open, “You found me.”

Hotch cradles your head against his chest. “Of course I did.”

You wince as the sound of a gurney crashes into the room, the metal wheels squealing as it draws near. Your head swims as you’re swept into the air and laid out on its cushiony bed. A light shines in your eyes and voices are overlapping. Blindly, you use what strength you have left to drop your hand off the side. Unable to focus your attention on where he is, you know he’ll hear you. “Don’t leave me.”

And as you lose consciousness, you feel his hand slip into yours.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

•

A steady beeping fills your ears as you slowly come to. Your eyes feel bruised and you don’t think you have it in you to open them, but you feel something around your wrists and bolt upright. Pain crashes over you in a wave. It was a dream. You’re still bound in that basement. The beeping increases, growing louder and faster. Someone says your name and you feel hands on your shoulders. You try to swing your fist and are surprised when your arm follows through and makes contact with flesh. Did you break through the zip ties? You hear your name again, clearer this time. A man. He’s asking you to stop, to relax.

“It’s me,” he repeats and says your name again. “You’re safe. You’re in the hospital.” He says your name again. “It’s me, it’s Aaron.”

You stop fighting and blink hard. Hotchner’s stern face comes into view, except there’s concern wavering in the depths of his brown eyes. His brow softens as you relax. A small smile turns the corners of his lips. “Hey there,” he says. A nurse rushes into the room and he raises a hand, “We’re fine, here. Thank you.”

The nurse looks at you and you nod. She looks unsure about leaving but ultimately relents. “I’ll let the doctor know you’re awake.”

Aaron cups the back of your head in one of his hands and gently begins to lower you back down onto the pillows behind you. You allow him to guide you and feel the tension ease from your muscles as your back sinks into the surprisingly plush hospital pillow.

As the adrenaline wears off, you’re finally able to take stock of your injuries as the pain quickly makes itself known. You feel your pulse beating in your skull, pounding at your temples, eyebrow, and cheekbone. With shaky fingers, you touch the places where you remember the unsub striking you. You feel a thick bandage taped over your right eyebrow and steri-strips over your cheek. Your lip is swollen from where you bit it.

Bandages encircle your wrists and there’s an IV stuck in your hand. You’ve been dressed in a hospital gown and the sheets are drawn up to your waist covering the burn wounds. You don't have to see them to know how bad they look. The pain is telling enough.

“Is he dead?” you ask, lowering your hand back down to the bed.

Hotch’s lips form a tight line. “Yes.”

You blink back tears as that information sinks in. “Good,” you whisper in a choked voice. You blink and allow your head to loll to the side. A colorful bouquet of roses and carnations dotted with plastic ladybugs and butterflies sits in a clear vase on the side table.

You smile, “Garcia?”

Hotch smiles in turn. “It was tough to convince her to go home and get some sleep, but I promised her I wouldn’t leave you alone. Even then, it was still a hard-fought battle.”

You chuckle and wince as the movement irritates your injuries.

Hotch telegraphs his next move, and you know it’s to avoid startling you. He cups his hand over your uninjured cheek and strokes the skin there with his thumb.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” he says, and his voice sounds tired and pained. “I should’ve gone inside with you.”

“Hotch, don’t.” You reach up and wrap your fingers around his wrist. “Don’t do that to yourself. He didn’t know I was with the FBI until after he took me. If you’d been there, he might’ve pegged us as law enforcement and taken off. He might still be out there and we’d be finding another dead woman in a matter of days. You know I’m right.”

Hotch closes his eyes and heaves a heavy sigh. “I could hear you.”

“What?” you whisper. You try to sit up and wince as the movement stings the wounds in your legs and abdomen. Hotch stands and helps adjust the pillows behind your back before sitting back down in the chair at your bedside.

“Not for very long. He drove out of range, but I heard him speaking to you. I heard the blows land. I heard your head smack against the floor when he threw you in the van.” He stops and shakes his head. “I felt so helpless. I was afraid. I couldn’t get to you, just like,” his voice catches in his throat. “just like I couldn’t get to Haley.”

Your heart breaks for him as he speaks. You reach for his hand and take it, squeezing it. “Aaron, you did get to me. You saved my life.”

He clears his throat and swallows. “Yes, but we were almost too late.”

“But you weren’t,” you state, your tone firm. “Aaron, look at me.”

He hesitates and inhales deeply before lifting his gaze to yours. The corners of his eyes soften as he meets yours and you smile. You gently tug his hand, “Come here.”

Hotch glances toward the door and then back at you, “The doctor—“

“Isn’t going to do shit,” you finish. “I’m the one that endured hours of torture. Pretty sure I’m allowed some close comfort.”

He lets out a shallow laugh. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.” Standing, he shrugs out of his suit jacket and drapes it over the back of the chair. With one hand he loosens his tie until he’s able to pull it up and over his head. He tosses it onto the chair and circumnavigates the bed, assessing the best way to join you on the small mattress.

You groan as you slide over. Hotch reaches out to stop you but you silence him with a pointed look. “Mind the IV,” you say as you pat the space beside you.

Hotch acquiesces, using the tips of his fingers to raise the IV drip enough for him to slide into bed beside you. He slips an arm around you and drops the feed. It falls across his torso. The feel of his arm around you is comforting, like a security blanket, like safety. You relax into him, and rest your head on his chest. His lips brush against your bandaged brow.

“Not quite how I imagined we’d first be sharing a bed,” you joke softly as you nuzzle in deeper against the wide plane of his chest.

You feel him smile against your hair. “Only you could joke at a time like this.”

“If I can’t laugh at what’s happened, I’ll never be able to close my eyes at night.”

“Well, if that’s the case.” He rubs the bare skin of your arm in small circles. “I’ll be there until you can.”

You turn your head to look at him then, your heart full. This is happening. His eyes are on yours and you push yourself toward him ever so slightly. He closes the small gap between you and presses his lips to yours. It wasn’t hungry and primal like the kiss in the car. There would be plenty of time for that later. This kiss was light, tender…healing.

“Sir, I’m sorry. I tried to go home, I really did but as soon as I got there I—” Garcia’s voice abruptly cuts off. You look up and her initial look of surprise turns to one of abject joy.

You feel your cheeks flush as Emily and Morgan appear in the doorway behind her. Morgan’s eyes widen and Emily’s brow arches as a smile curves her lips.

“I, uh, brought backup.” Penelope giggles. She remembers she’s holding something. “And cookies! I couldn’t sleep, so I baked. I figured I could bribe you into going home and getting some sleep.” Her words leave her mouth at a mile a minute. “I thought you’d fight me on it, so I brought some muscle.” She gestures with a tilt of her head. “They’re the muscle.”

Morgan exhales and points a finger at you and Hotch. “Can someone explain to me what’s going on here?”

Emily elbows him and he drops his arm. She takes the tray from Garcia and walks it over to the side table where she places it next to the flowers. She winks at you as she turns back to Garcia and Morgan. “It’s about time,” she says.

Penelope laughs as she hooks her arm in Emily’s. “What's it been? Two, three months?”

Morgan guffaws. “Months?”

Penelope pats his face with a ring-adorned hand. “My sweet oblivious profiler. Come on, hot stuff.” She takes him by the hand and leads him from the room. Emily shakes her head and laughs. “Men.”

“Safe to say the team knows.”

Hotch releases a breathy laugh and kisses your forehead again. “I know what will be the first thing on the agenda at tomorrow’s debriefing.”

•

6 weeks. It had been 6 weeks since you’d pressed the elevator button that would bring you back to the office. The weight of your gun feels right where it sits upon your hip, your gait more familiar to you now than when it wasn’t holstered to your side. You nervously adjust the grip on your go bag. You’d packed and repacked it the night before.

This morning as you were getting out of the shower, you stared at yourself in the mirror. Your cheek had healed nicely though the skin on your brow that had been split by the unsub’s ring had scarred, severing the tail end of your eyebrow from the rest of it. The ligature marks around your wrists and ankles had healed and the skin was smooth once more. The stun gun had scarred your abdomen, but all that remained were two purple pinpricks of scar tissue no bigger than the size of an infant’s thumbnail.

Your legs are a different story. The front of your thighs are an array of mottled scar tissue. One burn had gone so deep that they’d needed to graft skin from your calf to salvage it. The wounds no longer hurt physically, but you’d woken up from nightmares on more than one occasion.

You were never alone though. Garcia worked remotely on secure laptops with VPNs as often as she was able. Rossi brought you home-cooked Italian at least twice a week and talked with you over numerous glasses of red wine. Reid brought black-and-white foreign existentialist films that you didn’t understand, but his enthusiasm as he watched made you happy all the same. Emily and Morgan brought coffee and donuts as often as they could and Hotch…if he wasn’t at the office or visiting Jack, he was with you. On several occasions, he brought Jack. Jack would sit on the bed beside you, playing with his toys, narrating the adventures of his action figures as Aaron stood in the doorway, smiling. At night, when you had woken in a cold sweat, Aaron was there with a washcloth to wipe it away. When the bandages had stuck to your burn wounds and it felt like your skin was being peeled apart, he got your pain medicine and helped change the dressings, holding you until the pain had passed.

You blink as the elevator dings, signaling you’ve reached your destination. You take a deep breath and smooth down the front of your blouse as the door opens wide. Everything looks the same, yet everything feels like it's changed as you approach the desk you occupy perpendicular to Emily’s. A smile crosses your lips as you see the Welcome Bac k card on your desk. Two vases of flowers sit behind the card. One is almost exactly like the one from the hospital so you know it’s from Garcia. The other, a bouquet of purple tulips, has a note attached to it. You open the note and read it.

Glad to have you back. Things haven’t been the same around here without you. -AH

Hotch. You should’ve known. You smile and tuck the note into your purse.

“Hey, hey, look who’s finally decided to get her ass back to work.” Morgan’s charming laugh is followed by Emily chastising him.

“Ignore him,” she says as she places a steaming mug of coffee on your desk.

“You’re a godsend,” you say by way of thanks and take a long drink. Two sugars, no milk, just the way you like. “Wow, Emily, that’s perfect. I needed this.”

“How come you don’t remember how I take my coffee?” Morgan asks pointedly.

She shrugs, “Chicks before dicks, Derek.”

You sputter and choke on your coffee.

“Look,” he says as he pats you on the back. “Her first day back and you’re gonna kill her.”

At that moment JJ passes by with a file in hand. She raises it in the air and gestures to the conference room. “We got a case.” She smiles at you warmly. “It’s good to have you back.”

Together, you, Morgan, and Emily enter the conference room where Reid, Hotch, and Rossi have already gathered. Once you’re all sat, JJ begins presenting the case. You review current victims and why the Sacramento Police Department has invited you onto the case

“Sacramento PD is expecting us this afternoon. We’ve got a long flight ahead of us. Wheels up in thirty, understood?”

A chorus of ‘yes sirs’ echo throughout the room. As the team gathers their belongings and moves to leave, you wait for Hotch to catch your eye. You wink at him before mouthing, “Yes, sir.”

[hopelesslyromanticshark]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ I Am My Mother's Daughter

content: jason grace x daughter of hera! reader fic warning: pure pure unredeemable angst author's note: poor you, you already know how this one ends...

"jason, i don't feel good about this quest," you muttered, wrapping your arms around yourself as you paced the zeus cabin. jason frowned, looking over his shoulder from his seat at his desk.

"why? what's up, honey?" jason probed but you just chewed at your nails in response, "c'mon, talk to me."

"i- i just- i have a bad feeling. like, here, right here, and it's so so deep, jase, and i can't shake it," you finally let out, shoving your hands into your chest pointedly. you stopped, closing your eyes and taking a few calming breaths.

"i'll be okay. you know me. i'm good at not dying," jason teased, standing up and making his way towards you. with every step closer, the tension in your shoulders was slowly letting up and you were starting to shrink. jason set one hand against your waist and the other cupped your cheek, which you nuzzled into without thinking.

"but-...what if...?" you let your question hang in the air, not willing to speak the words into existence. saying it makes it real, which was the last thing you wanted.

"y/n, look at me," jason ordered and you instantly darted your eyes up, locking them with his electric blue ones.

"i'm coming back. i've gotta come back. you wanna know why? i've got you waiting for me. looking all pretty, undoubtably," jason started and you breathed out a laugh, which widened jason's smile just the slightest bit, "i'm going to come back. and we're going to get a nice ring and im going to propose and we're going to get married. and your mom is going to be so, so happy."

"yes, her champion and only daughter, finally married. she's gonna scream," you cut in, smiling at the scene jason was playing out for you. his thumb was rubbing against your cheek and his hold was just so soft. he made it easy to fall in love with him, you thought fleetingly.

"oh, she'll be overjoyed. a union between jupiter and hera? best of the best, surely. then we'll go to school and move to new rome like you always wanted. and we'll have all the kids you want and then we can grow old. most importantly, we're doing all of that together. because im coming back," continued jason, nearly getting lost in the daydream as well. he rested his forehead against yours, relishing in the fact that he had you and you had him. as he pulled away following a small peck, you pressed your lips to the palm of his hand.

"promise?" you asked, hesitantly. you wanted to believe in his fantasies - really, you did - but it was hard to suspend reality like that.

"on the river-"

"no, no, not that one! just...just a normal promise," you begged, your hand shooting up and clutching the wrist of the hand that was pressed to your cheek.

"okay, okay. i promise. on our future. how's that?" he offered and strangely enough thunder rolled outside, drawing both of your eyes.

"storms coming," jason explained away, quickly, to ease your racing thoughts.

"you'd know, wouldn't you, weather boy?" you teased, attempting your best lighthearted smile. jason laughed softly, rolling his eyes before looking at you with a fondness you'd only ever seen from him.

"ha, ha, very funny. you've been spending too much time with percy, princess," he mused, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing a kiss to your shoulder as you giggled.

"duh! you know i love percy! and le-" you cut yourself off, your smiling slipping at the thought of the boy. you cleared your throat, knowing jason had it worse from the way his muscles tensed and he froze. instantly, you muttered an apology to his skin, followed by soft kisses. jason shook it off rather quickly, pressing a solid kiss to your cheek.

"...can i pack for you?" you asked, softly, and jason smiled at you in the way he always did.

"of course, honey. you always know what to pack for me. oh, and spray your perfume in there again. that was nice on the last quest," jason hummed, taking your hand before twirling you around in cabin one, your giggles filling him with a joy he was sure couldn't be measured.

and then that dreaded day came. you had spent the night in the zeus cabin, chrion and mr. d be damned, as you refused to leave jason's side. every day, the feeling just kept growing and spreading through your body. you've felt diagnosed it as dread but you had a feeling will would say its something different...something like preemptive grief. you squeezed jason so tight he teased you about it endlessly. and you'd laugh, but with every minute that ticked by and every breath jason breathed, you couldn't help but think that every single one would be the last.

"i'll see you later?" jason offered as the two of you stood on the steps of the zeus cabin.

"you'd better," you hissed out, wrapping your arms around his shoulder and burying yourself into the crook of his neck. jason couldn't help but respond similarly, his hold around your waist bone crushing and the sprawling of his hands over your back bring you less comfort than they usually did.

"i love you so, so, so much, jason grace. please, gods, be safe. and come home. just come home," you muttered into his skin, praying to every god you could name in your head, hoping they were feeling gracious and kind.

"i love you more than i can think to put into words, y/n l/n. im coming home, it's already written by the fates. they'd have to do more than a measly quest to tear us apart. i still have to marry you, princess," jason hummed into your cheek before planting a kiss there, followed by a solid kiss to your lips. a desperate kiss, a kiss that was the pinnacle of love, a kiss that was also a promise. a sealing and final kiss, the kind you'd see from lovers before travel or before war. a kiss that said all the feelings you couldn't put into words.

nico watched this from a distance, watched as you held jason's hand as long as you could before you couldn't reach anymore and yours hands were pulled apart. he watched as you stood outside cabin one, your hands curled over your heart like you were protecting it and tears steadily pouring out of your eyes. he watched as jason sniffed away his own tears, determined to be the strong one out of the two of you. and he couldn't help but feel a tiny drop in his stomach. like something bad was bound to happen. he had fleeting thoughts of jason looking like bianca and you looking like a younger him. but he was quick to crunch these under his combat boots. because that would make him percy.

in hindsight, nico had wished he'd given those thoughts more time to fester. allowed the possibility to grow mold in the back of his mind. give him time to think about how to deal with a situation like that - no, no, a situation like this. it was happening, nico was watching it in real time. jason grace, the son of jupiter and lover of the daughter of hera, was dying, was dead. and there was nothing he could do. no plan he could make and no trick to pull to make it all go away. no, jason grace's fate was sealed the moment he lost his hold on y/n's hand.

so, when nico walked into camp with out jason grace, he wasn't all that surprised to see you outside cabin one. he could almost believe that you hadn't moved an inch since they left but he could tell that wasn't true from the fact that you were in different clothes. jason's clothes, to be specific. the same clothes that jason always bragged smelled like his lovely girlfriend. his girlfriend, who's gentle heart nico was about to break - shatter, destroy, whatever you want to call it. you knew before nico even reached you, already crying with your clasped hands still protectively held over your heart.

"y/n-"

"he's not coming home...is he?" you managed to choke out, your eyes locked on nico as your lips wobbled and tears began to smear your vision. nico hung his head, shaking it gently.

"i'm sorry," he whispered but it got lost in your sobs. you fell to your knees, thudding against the porch outside that damned zeus cabin. you were trying, desperately, to get words out but the only thing that managed to escape from your mouth were cries. horrid, horrid sounds of just pure heartbreak and grief. you were rocking yourself, knowing you had to calm down but struggling to find it in yourself to want to. nico was on the ground with you in seconds, hesitating before shooting forwards with his hands, awkwardly fumbling about until they found a soothing pattern on your back.

and nico felt the urge to apologize to percy. yes, he'd been a child when percy broke the news of his sister to him but...now he knew what it felt like. and it was a pain that nico was sure was immeasurable. how percy ever looked nico in the eye again, he wasn't sure.

months passed and things changed, but never your grief. you felt it every single damn day. but, you didn't show it. you pulled yourself back up and only cried in the privacy of your cabin. cabin one would be cleared out, removed of jason's bed and jason's desk, ready for the next poor doomed child of zeus. you clung tightly to jason's dreams, ensure they were still achieved. you fought for alters for minor gods, helping with planning and placement. you ensured the divide between camp jupiter and camp half blood was nonexistent, visiting both regularly. and at the end of every day, you'd cry up in bed and you'd just cry. you'd cry, and cry, and cry until you tuckered yourself out like an infant and fell asleep. and then you'd do it all over again.

"y/n? you home?" called a familiar voice, followed by some slightly patterned knocking against her door. a smile tugged at the voice, leaning forwards to watch the newly back to life son of hephaestus walk in.

"hey, leo, what's up, hon?" you asked, softly, from your curled up position in one of the many fancy lounge chairs in your cabin. leo attempted to offer you a wide smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes as he plopped down into a seat of his own. he pressed his fingers into his forehead, rubbing at it like he was troubled.

"y/n...this is going to seem cruel, i think, but i- i can't keep it anymore. it's eating me up inside. i tried throwing it away but i just- i just dug it back out again," leo panickily rambled, leaning forwards in his seat as his chest started to heave. within seconds, you were crouching beside the boy, rubbing his back comfortingly and smiling softly at him.

"it's okay, we're okay. whatever it is, i can take it," you told leo, who shook his head.

"no, no, i shouldn't have- gods, this sucks. he sucks for putting us in this position," leo bit out, bitterly, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes, which you were quick to discourage and push back against.

"i agree," you added, locking eyes with leo's tearfilled ones.

"it's not fair."

"i also agree with that one," you continued and leo smiled the slightest bit before sighing and reaching into his pocket and grasping something firmly in his hand, turning his body towards you.

"he...he had me make this. something about not wanting anyone else to do it. we worked together on this for months because-...because it was never perfect enough for him, for you. but...he finally liked it. right before gaea and all that shit. he was...he was just waiting for the perfect moment. im...yeah, im sorry," leo ranted, slowly uncurling his hands and presenting you with an engagement ring. and it was perfect and beautiful and all a girl could ever ask for. and it was painful and heartbreaking and stood for a marriage that would never exist now that he was gone. but you couldn't help but smile as your shaking hands gently took it from leo's palm, sliding it onto your ring finger. naturally, with how well jason knew you, it fit like a glove.

"thank you, leo. this- this means a lot, thank you," you gasped out, crying while smiling at the boy and grasping his hand with your now ring adorn one.

"im sorry," he whispered out, crying with you. you shook your head at him, giving his hands a tight squeeze.

"don't be," you basically ordered and leo just nodded before takign his sniffling leave. you gave him a box of tissues to take with him, refusing to take 'no' for an answer. you also ordered him to spend lunch with you next week, so you guys could talk, maybe get piper to come too. maybe even all of them.

but, that evening, for the first time in a while, you went to bed without crying. you went to bed with your right hand resting right over your heart, right where you carried your sweet son of jupiter, right where he lived on.

the cold metal of your ring warmed in seconds from the pure love that radiated from that spot. not just your love, but the love jason left behind for you, left to course and beat through your heart. to lovingly haunt your soul until you joined him down below.

[aphroditelovesu]

Hi honey, I hope you don't mind, but can I ask what you're working on right now?

Yes, of course you can. This list that shows in general, without including HOTD (because I already made a list of them, if you want to read, just click here). For now, these are the pending ones:

Yandere Percy Jackson Headcanons (General) (Percy Jackson) (POSTED)

Yandere Elijah Mikaelson with a reader with a sire bond | Imagine (Romantic) (The Originals)

Yandere Nico/Hazel with a Shy!Child of Pluto (Headcanons) (Platonic) (Percy Jackson)

Yandere Apollo with a Child of Ares Headcanons (Romantic) (Percy Jackson)

Yandere Zeus/Poseidon Headcanons (Poly!Romantic) (Greek Mythology) (POSTED)

Yandere Athena vs Aphrodite | Imagine (Romantic) (Greek Mythology)

Yandere Artemis/Athena Headcanons (Poly!Romantic) (Greek Mythology) (POSTED)

Yandere Jake Peralta | Imagine Angst (Brooklyn Nine-Nine) (POSTED)

Yandere Ares w/Pregnant Reader | Imagine (Greek Mythology)

Yandere Apollo w/Forced Marriage | Imagine (Greek Mythology)

Yandere!CEO Taehyung w/Married S/O | Imagine (BTS)

Yandere Icarus Headcanons (General) (Greek Mythology) (POSTED)

Yandere Leo Valdez Headcanons (General) (Percy Jackson)

Yandere Artemis/Apollo Headcanons (Romantic) (Greek Mythology) (POSTED)

Yandere Ladybug/Cat Noir Headcanons (Romantic) (Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir) (POSTED)

Yandere Percy Jackson w/Another Child of Poseidon Headcanons (Platonic) (Percy Jackson)

Yandere Jennie w/Unwilling Male!Reader | Imagine (BLACKPINK)

Yandere Grover Underwood w/A Careless!Child | Imagine (Percy Jackson)

Yandere Julius Caesar Headcanons (General) (Historical Characters) (POSTED)

Yandere Wednesday Addams Headcanons (General) (Wednesday)

Yandere Tyler Galpin Headcanons (General) (Wednesday)

Yandere Rosé Headcanons (General) (BLACKPINK)

Yandere Xavier Thorpe w/Innocent!Reader Headcanons (General) (Wednesday) (POSTED)

Yandere Greek Heroes (Male) - Profile (Greek Mythology)

Yandere Thanatos Headcanons (General) (Greek Mythology)

Yan!Mom Hera w/Yandere Apollo Headcanons (Romantic) (Greek Mythology)

Yandere Damon Salvatore Headcanons (Romantic + NSFW) (The Vampire Diaries) (POSTED)

Yandere Artemis Headcanons (Romantic) (Greek Mythology)

Yandere Egyptian Gods - Profile (Egyptian Mythology)

Yandere Lucifer Morningstar Headcanons (General) (Lucifer)

Yandere Morpheus/Sandman Headcanons (General) (The Sandman) (POSTED)

Yandere Helen of Troy Headcanons (General) (Greek Mythology)

Yandere Lucifer Morningstar Headcanons (The Sandman)

Yandere Maze Runner Boy's Headcanons (Romantic) (Maze Runner)

Yandere Winchester Family Headcanons (Platonic) (Supernatural)

Yandere Jamie Fraser Headcanons (General) (Outlander) (POSTED)

Yandere House Lannister Headcanons (Platonic) (Game of Thrones) (POSTED)

Yandere Hades/Persephone Headcanons (Poly!Romantic) (Greek Mythology)

Yandere Athena Headcanons (Romantic) (Greek Mythology)

Yandere Hermes Headcanons (General) (Greek Mythology)

~ Lady L

[gabelesimp]

Record of Ragnarok!

Platonic!!

Poseidon x baby! Reader

He became stressed, you couldn't stop crying and he did everything he could. He visited Helhiem, to ask his brother for help.

"They won't stop crying, They aren't hungry, their diaper ain't full. I don't know what they want." He was so tired, he wanted to sleep so badly. Hades and Persephone took the child, as Poseidon laid on the couch. Taking a little nap.

Once the cries became faint, He woke up, sensing that something was wrong. "(Y/n), Brother?" He kept walking until he reached the doors that led somewhere, your cries were heard again. It woke him an instant and started to run.

The doors only led to where they kept Cerberus, you were crying because one of the heads took the toy Persephone gave you. Hades was telling Cerberus to give it back, as his wife tried to calm you down.

"Be a good Boy and give back their toy! I might give you a treat!" That did the trick, the hellhound placed the toy in front of you. Your crying stopped and you crawled over to them, gave them a pat on the head.

"Aww! Did you see that love?" "Yes, I did. Oh, Brother, how was your nap?" Poseidon sighed, picked up his child and walked over to the doors to exit the room.

"Dada!" He stopped in his tracks, looked at you. "What..." "Dada!!" It made his heart soften, Hades and Persephone watched them with joy. "..You called me 'Dada'...." He hugged you tightly, for the very first time in his life. He felt happiness, he cried of joy. "I love you, my seashell." You giggle, and tell him you're hungry. "Oh, Brother. Do you have anything we can feed them?" "I just made some food a while ago! Well, We tried to feed them too but only wanted to play!" Persephone exclaimed, and set to have dinner. Hades smiled at his brother, feeding his only child. "One day, maybe We'll have a child of our own." Persephone gave him a soft chuckle.

Poseidon thanked his brother and his wife for helping. Since Hera nor, Zeus could help him. And back in Atlantis, you fell asleep and He kept you in arms while reading a book, only for him to fall asleep too.

(I love this, So much!! Well, Angst will hit soon.)

[roguerambles]

Sides

Blood of Zeus Fic

I’m not sure how I feel about it, but I finally got another part of the Hera’s Daughter!ReaderxHeron fic out. I need to get the angst out of the way to get to the cute stuff haha.

But for now, Reader gets caught in the crossfire of the battleground that is Zeus and Hera’s marriage.

Image from Google.

-

You had to speak with Zeus.

It was not often that you sought out the King of Olympus’s company – generally speaking, the two of you rarely interacted without Mother present. But if Mother knew about you sneaking off Olympus to see Heron, then you had to assume Zeus had become aware as well.

All of Olympus – indeed probably all of Greece – had seen Zeus’s display last night – sending lightning to destroy the demons ships, to save his latest bastard from certain death. The marble halls were filled with grumbles and whispers, everyone speculating what would come next and whether the boy – Heron – would be brought to Olympus, like all the others had been.

Your sandaled feet clapped against the marble floors as you reached the door to Zeus’s perch. Courtesy dictated that you knock before entering the King of the Gods personal sanctuary, but days of fretting had frayed your nerves and instead you placed both hands on the large, ornate doors and shoved hard. The massive frames groaned noisily across the floor as the cool evening air brushed against your face and you pushed outside, your gaze immediately landing on Zeus.

He was leaning over the wall that looked down on the cloud cover, a glass of ambrosia in his hand, his pensive expression morphing into one of genuine surprise as he turned to see you enter.

…You had not particularly planned on what you would say once you had actually arrived, and for a brief few seconds you stood there in silence. Zeus did the same, his lightning blue eyes studying you with mild caution.

“…good evening.” The King said finally, briefly raising his glass in your direction.

Words tumbled around your mind like leaves in a hurricane, and when you opened your mouth they made their rather frantic escape. “I have been sneaking off Olympus.”

Zeus stared at you blankly.

“…I have met Heron.” You gripped the sides of your dress, knuckles turning white. “…several times. I met Electra too. Ares knows. Mother knows. I…You…”

Zeus shifted in place, his expression somewhere between deeply uncomfortable and faintly amused.

“…you…you know this already, don’t you?”

He nodded slightly, and for a while you simply stood there, staring at his face until something clicked in your mind and you felt like a fool. “You…you are the old man….”

Zeus took a moment to sip from his chalice, before softly clearing his throat. “…yes.” He lowered it to the nearby table, before rubbing his hands over his bearded face, looking more tired than you had ever seen him. “I will confess, I had not expected to see you approaching Electra’s home with Heron. The Fates have an….interesting sense of humour.”

The day you had met Heron, you had wandered back to his home with him after leaving the market, and had seen the Old Man – Zeus – watching you from the window. “You knew it was me?”

Zeus barked out a short laugh. “Well, yes. You did not look at all different than usual. Just…mortal sized.”

You needed to sit. You stumbled into the nearest kline, what felt likes weeks’ worth of exhaustion falling on your head. You buried your face in your hands, and faintly felt Zeus’s presence cautiously come beside you.

“…I did not tell your mother, for what it is worth.”

“Of course you didn’t.” You muttered, squeezing your eyes shut behind your palms. “Then you would have had to explain what you were doing there.”

Zeus gave a self-deprecating laugh, before taking another large gulp from his chalice. “That…that is also true.”

You both sat in silence for a while after that.

“…I suppose you must be eager to see him.” Zeus said finally, and you groaned into your hands.

“Am I that obvious?”

Zeus actually laughed at that, his large hand coming to gently pat your shoulder. “I have been young and in love before, believe it or not. I do recognise the look of it.”

“With Mother?” The question tumbled from your lips before you realised it. Zeus looked surprised, his eyes sliding away from you to peer over the balcony, into the clouds below.

“…yes.” He said finally after a few seconds of silence, a note of wistfulness in his voice. “We…were all a little younger then, I suppose.”

You had heard stories of the Great War with the Titans, of course, but Mother had made you long after that. You had never seen her and Zeus as anything other than what they were now. It was a difficult thing to imagine them as something else, something happier.

“Did you….” The question rolled impatiently on your tongue, and Zeus’s gaze flickered back to you. “Did you love her? Electra?”

Zeus’s entire face seemed to dim, a flash of guilt in his eyes. “…yes. I did.”

“…and Mother?”

Zeus stared down at you, his hand frozen to your shoulder. His somewhat startled expression melted into one of deep thought, and he was quiet for a moment. “…would you believe me if I said yes?”

Your fingers picked at the edges of your dress, but you kept your eyes firmly on the King’s. “That depends.” You straightened your back slightly. “Would you be telling the truth?”

Zeus’s lips quirked upwards. His large hand gave your shoulder a soft squeeze. “You sound like-“

“What are you doing?”

Your head snapped around towards the door. Zeus’s hand retreated from your shoulder as though it had been scolded. Hera stood at the doorway, her gaze fixed on Zeus, face twisted in anger.

Your stomach dropped. “Mother-“

“We’re going. Now.” Hera marched over to you, grabbing you wrist and tugging you sharply to your feet.

“Going?” You nearly tripped as Hera pulled you along, bewildered. “Going where-?”

Zeus frowned and rose from the bench, his chalice forgotten. “She can remain if she wishes-“

Hera barked out a hard, incredulous laugh, completely devoid of humour. “You would love that, wouldn’t you?” She spun to face Zeus, almost causing you to tumble into her. “Do not think I don’t know what you are thinking-“

“I am not-“

“Mother, please, where-“

“You think I will leave her with you?” Hera snarled, voice growing vicious and so very, very angry. “So you and your bastard can take turns? Or perhaps you are planning to share? What a delightful welcome for him. Father and son, defiling her body together as well as her mind-“

Zeus’s eyes narrowed, his frown turning sharp. “Now you are just being vulgar-“

Hera’s eyes grew wide, her jaw slackened as though Zeus had slapped her. “Vulgar?” Her voice grew higher. “Vulgar-?!”

Your head was spinning, your wrist was beginning to hurt in Hera’s vice-like grip, but your mother’s words struck you like a clap of thunder. “Welcome?” The King and Queen turned to you suddenly, as though they had forgotten you were there. Mother’s eyes grew wide as you tried to tug your hand free. “Heron is here?” You looked up at Zeus, who rubbed the back his neck almost sheepishly. “You did not think to tell me that?!”

“I thought you must have been told!” Zeus protested, his eyes darting towards Hera. “I thought that was why you had come here. Your mother has been scheming against me. She manipulated events to kill Electra, has rallied half of Olympus against me-“

“You bastard-“

“-and her price for peace was Heron’s head.”

You felt as though ice cold water had been thrown over you.

Hera released her hold on you, the air around her suddenly charged, winds tearing across the space around you as she moved to shove Zeus’s chest. He stumbled briefly, but quickly regained his footing, and you swore you felt the palace itself shake the two rulers of the Heavens seethed at each other.

“Have you not taken enough from me?!” Hera nearly screamed, the ground cracking as she stormed towards Zeus, marble and stone rendered feeble in the face of her rage. “My dignity, my throne, now you want to steal my daughter-“

“That’s not true.” You grabbed your mother’s arm, shaking it to get her attention. She whipped around to face you, eyes wide. “You wouldn’t…Mother, that….”

Even as you struggled to form the words, they rang hollow. Heron was hardly Zeus’s first bastard. Electra hardly the only lover he’d taken. It always ended the same, with blood spilled, Zeus falling into another bed, Hera’s heartbreak and rage falling on someone else.

Heron’s face flashed in your mind, Electra’s blood seeping into the ground, the Demon General standing over her-

“You can’t.” You gripped Hera’s wrist tighter. “Mother, you can’t. Heron hasn’t done anything wrong. He-“

Hera’s looked shocked, wresting out of your grip. “You’re taking his side?” She cried, pointing angrily at Zeus.

“I am not-“ You shook your head, refusing to back down. “This isn’t about sides. Heron doesn’t deserve to die! Neither did Electra! It wasn’t-“

“This is your fault.” Hera twisted away from you, her teeth bared in Zeus’s direction. “You and your bastards, all of them, you’ve poisoned her against me-“

“Mother, listen to me! This is wrong!”

Hera shook her head furiously. “You don’t understand. You couldn’t possibly. We’re leaving for the Underworld. Now.”

“I won’t.” You pulled your arm back as Hera reached for it. “I won’t go.”

Hera looked shocked for a moment, before a dark cloud came over her expression, one that made your hair stand on end. “Yes, you will.” She hissed.

“I don’t want to!”

“I don’t care!” Hera shouted, the air cracking around her. “I am your mother! You will do as I say!”

“I won’t!” You heard your voice rising, adrenaline pulsing through your veins. “And I won’t forgive you if you do anything to Heron!”

“Forgive me…?” Hera looked as though you had struck her. “Forgive me?” Emotions danced across her face, bewilderment, hurt, then cold, icy rage. “You defend Zeus’s bastard over your own mother, and you think I need your forgiveness?”

“I’m not…” Tears stung your vision, your head and chest ached horribly, a cold, dark feeling deep in your belly. “You can’t-“

“Do you think your pet bastard would forgive you if he knew?” Hera demanded, her voice low and hard as stone. “That you had lied to him? That your mother helped kill his own?”

“Hera.” Zeus finally spoke, his broad back suddenly blocking your vision. “Enough.”

Hera hissed something at him. Then you saw her long dark hair flicking in the wind, her sandaled feet clapping against the ground. “Why don’t we ask him?”

You felt as though icy cold water had been thrown on you, watching Hera’s back retreat through the doors, numbness soaking into your bones. “Wait…” Panic squeezed your chest like a vice. “Wait, wait, stop, Mother, stop-!”

You pushed past Zeus and ran after her, but by the time you caught up, Hera was already in the gardens, her presence as fearsome as a hurricane. You ran towards her, Zeus at your back, just as her gaze landed on where Apollo, Hermes and Artemis sat, a familiar head of dark hair amongst them. Heron’s face briefly filled your vision, his expression painted with confused alarm as he realised Hera was looking directly at him.

“You there.” Hera ignored both you and Zeus, her focus entirely on her target, her voice sharper than a knife. “Bastard.”

Apollo slowly rose to his feet. Slightly behind him, you noticed Hermes quietly move in front of Heron, while Artemis stood as still as a statue, her shoulders tense and rigid. Apollo cleared his throat lightly. “I am afraid you may need to be a little more specific-“

Hera flicked her wrist vaguely in Apollo’s direction, as though swatting a fly. There was a sharp crack and Apollo’s head snapped to the side with such force he was knocked to the ground, a surprised cry of pain spilling past his lips as blood burst across the marble floor.

“Mother, please, stop-“

“Hera, do not-“

Artemis rushed over to her twin’s side, while Hermes positioned himself directly between Hera and Heron. The Queen of the Heavens looked right past him, her eyes locked onto the demi-god behind him. “Heron, isn’t it?” She spoke his name the same way someone might talk about a particularly unpleasant insect. “So it is you I have to thank for my daughter’s sudden rebellious attitude.”

You wanted to run, somewhere, anywhere but here, but your feet were rooted to the marble floor. Hera stepped aside slightly, sweeping her arm wide to gesture at you.

Heron’s eyes met yours. Confusion flooded his handsome face, his eyes widening slightly as realisation struck, his mouth opening wordlessly before snapping shut.

“Heron…” You choked his name out weakly. Hera turned abruptly and strode past you, pausing to hiss sharply in your ear.

“He will disappoint you. Do not say I did not warn you.”

With those final words, she was gone. Zeus brushed past you to kneel by Apollo’s side, his wound already healing. Hermes’s shoulders sagged, a heavy sigh spilling past his lips. Artemis looked grim, her knuckles white on Apollo’s shoulder.

Heron continued to stare at you mutely. Feeling returned to your body like a bolt of lightning, and you turned around, quickly retreating into the safety of the palace.

[greekmocha]

I was bored so decided to write some minor stuff.

Favorite couples of Greek Mythology! (Canon and Non-Canon)

I’ll be honest some of my reasons or explanations will sound like crack. Some I actually want to make a fanfic of! (Even though I’m still in the process of writing a Non-King one, but writers block there). Keep in mind I am tired so all these are randomly explained without full reason why I like them.

Canon Mythology:

Hera / Zeus: Alright this one is probably the one that gets most trashed on, but it’s honestly great! Yes they have issues, but they do love each other. It’s complicated, but they’re gods- I can’t even explain why it’s great as thousands of thoughts run through my head about them, but yeah.

Ariadne / Dionysus: This one I found rather neat! Theseus was a prick and left her on an island, then Dionysus and his party bus came along and picked her up, then later on turned to husband and wife! I mean they’ve never even fought in any myths that I’m aware of, and just seem so chill.

Aphrodite / Ares: Ngl, this is my all time favorite one. Ares literally fought on her side in the Trojan war, going against his mother! And he’s like a devoted son, and he picked Aphrodite- love. And yes they both have their own lovers, but they just have a thing that feels like it’d be constant.

bonus ones I won’t go much into, enjoy but don’t think of too much:

- Achilles / Patroclus: Had to be obvious, but I haven’t read the Iliad in a few years so can’t explain much.

- Apollo / Hyacinthus: Love the tragedy of it all, like it seemed genuinely sweet, then the discuss came along.

Non-Canon Favorite couples of Greek Mythology!

Hades / Prometheus: Some who actually read my blog could tell this is my all time favorite pairing. Yes there’s like no myths of them together- but the concept! I personally imagine they met during the Titanomachy, and had a quiet companionship. Later on when humanity came along, Hades helped a tiny bit- gave the basic idea for a soul while Prometheus did the rest, and led to Hades making the Underworld comfortable for the deceased, since it was his beloved friends creation. And the possible angst?? Prometheus getting his wife or when he gets chained to the mountain, and Hades mourning in silence.

Demeter / Hecate: They seem neat, what can I say? Hecate helped Demeter search for her daughter, even though she’s typically seen as a resident of the underworld- she helped! I like to just imagine women tired of others bs, and if I was confident in writing I’d likely have made 100 fics revolved around them.

Aphrodite / Persephone: The two considered the most beautiful! When I read the whole myth focusing on Psyche, I immediately thought rivals to lovers for this pairing. The whole box of beauty, sending a death curse back. Just two incredible goddesses. I’d like to imagine the two of them were friends when Persephone was younger! Though of course in my AU (I’m gonna call it Mykos verse or smth) since Persephone and Aphrodite aren’t married, the two of them would have likely hung out a lot.

Additional ones I like but don’t think of often:

- Apollo and Ares: Saw a few posts of them, and thought they were cute!

- Hera/Zeus’s former lovers: Now that one was interesting, can’t remember the blog but the whole thing and incorrect quotes was rather sweet.

- Poseidon/Hades: This is Greek mythology, definitely not the worst pairing. I read a fic of it once, and thought it was kinda nice. Besides the whole idea started when I heard of the Hadalpelagic zone in the ocean, and thought it could be a fun meeting spot between the two.

And that’s the end!

[kallistcs]

17 for all (or just the main ones) and 9 for paris 👀

Choosing violence, I see. ;) Let's start with nine lol and go from there.

Have you tweaked the character from canon? If so, what did you tweak? Hmm... it feels weird to say "the way he earnestly leans on the divine" both for when it comes to Helen and his faith in that things will turn out right at least initially, war-wise, since we don't have any surviving material that reveals what arguments Paris might have used for himself. But if I have done any big, obvious tweaks, it's probably this.

Like yes, it's at least a little an excuse for him, but also, it has been really interesting to have him earnestly believe that the divine influence and gods involved means he has, if not not done wrong, then done it with more understandable reason, and that they (Troy) will surely be fine because they do still have divine protection. It works out very well together with his general carefree and light personality/attitude.

Are there any ships you can’t stand, why? All righty. I'm going to put this under a cut because it'll get long lol

Ganymede: he doesn't really have any other big ships... I guess the closest would be Hera/Ganymede which I have seen at least once. Aside from how it's definitely been from a "oh, look at them ditch the bad man in their lives and sticking it to him ~together~" or whatever, I definitely... kind of hc Ganymede as way, way too gay for him to ever, ever think of this as a possibility. Never mind that she, you know. Very intently set about destroying his home and family. (Bonus: dark and non-con takes on Zeus/Ganymede. Like. I know why people would interpret it in that way, but I just seriously can't stand it. It's just upsetting, because it goes out of the way to put someone who is completely powerless in a never-ending misery. Aside from that I'm not at all into angst in that manner, part of the point of the fun for me with this ship is that Ganymede, otherwise powerless, gains a whole lot of power exactly because he is loved.)

Paris: ... :') People don't really like Paris enough for there to be any ships to be annoyed by lol Except for Paris being used as an obstacle in Achilles/Patroclus, but he gets that less than Hektor does. Otherwise, the closest would be is that 99% of the Helen/Paris stuff on AO3 is negative in a way that isn't even interesting. To a lesser degree, I guess, Oenone/Paris. But only because of the way it's hammered home he ~abandoned her~ and I'm like. She's a nymph. She doesn't need him in any way a mortal woman might. It's definitely sad to be left by someone you still love, but even if they were, by mortal standards, recognized as married, divorce exists and like. She would have married a teenager while undoubtedly having lived for longer than he has. I don't care about that, but expecting a forever-love from that... (She also definitely is the one with the power between them.)

Adonis: Persephone/Adonis, because I do have some lines in the sand and "woman raising this child as her son and then becoming sexually interested in him" is just... over that line for me lol. Besides, them as purely familial mother&son and Persephone still not wanting to give him up to Aphrodite is much more interesting and fun! (You get fun parallels with Demeter&Persephone that way!)

Angelos: ... girl doesn't have any ships! She doesn't even exist in the same way people have made Makaria exist, fandom-wise! But theoretically, since I hc her as a lesbian, seeing het ships with her would displease me.

Antilochus: ... doesn't really have any ships either. I think what would really piss me off would be making any potential Achilles/Antilochus(/Patroclus) about Patroclus instead (as I just saw a fic imply it was, even when it wasn't even an Achilles/Antilochus ship fic).

Hermaphroditus: The same as above. Buut, honestly Hermaphroditus/Salmacis would just skeeve me out. If one goes with Ovid's version (as my Hermaphroditus does not) she is attempting to assault someone who wants nothing to do with her!

Penthesilea: Oh, this one's easy. Achilles/Penthesilea. Hate any iteration of this, especially when it's not just presented as mutual but her pursuing him. Fuck off about that now. What we have canon-wise is Achilles falling in love/lust with an already-dead woman, no indication of what SHE feels about it. And why would she even be interested in him, anyway??

Teucer: Nothing here, really!

Achilles: ... All right. Achilles/Patroclus, but only because of what fandom and this ship's fans have done with the ship, the characters, and everyone else when it comes to their ship and these characters. It being a juggernaut is just frustrating, but how literally EVERYTHING is made to be about these two, that they are ~the most~ tragic and their story is ~the most~ saddest is like nails on chalk-board. Trojan characters are used as props for this ship, especially Hector who gets pulled in as a handy "third party interested in one of the two", or, in modern AUs, used as a fucking murderer in weird versions of Patroclus' Iliad death.

Dryope and Sinope: Like several others in this list, there's no ships, really. The only thing, I guess, would be for Dryope to be in some sort of tragic love with Apollo, mostly because the version of her story I go with, Apollo and the son she has by him is a byword, at most. It's her nymph companions that are far more important!

[miryum]

We’re blinding ourselves- Greek Mythology AU (Newt x Reader)

Requested by the lovely @the-bibliophile-public-library

Warnings: Light swearing, some angst with a happy ending, and idiots in love

Just as a reminder, there are the characters: Zeus is Ava Paige, Hera is Janson, Athena is Teresa, Ares is Gally, Poseidon is Thomas, Artemis is Sonya, Apollo is Harriet, Aphrodite is Minho, Hermes is Reader, Hesita is Newt, Demeter is Jorge, Persephone is Brenda, and Hades is Alby. 

“I don’t like this.” Y/n muttered to Brenda. “He keeps refusing my desires to court him! Why doesn’t he want me to court him?! I’m a great courter! I’ve courted many a person!”

“Is that the problem?” Brenda side-eyed her friend. “He feels as if he’s just another one of the group. Also, there’s that small matter of him committing to virginity?”

“Yeah.” Y/n sighed and put her hands on her hips. “That is a small problem.”

“I can’t believe I’m about to say this, and I know you’re to dismiss it,” Brenda said, as they watched Newt on the other side of the room, “but is it possible you could… let this go?”

“I understand that he’s nervous about all the other people I’ve courted,” Y/n continued, not listening to Brenda, “but they were hundreds of years ago! He’s the only one I’ve been fixated on for… at least one hundred and seventy years! Except Alexander. He was cute. But he was still fifty years ago! Seriously,” she turned to Brenda, “I think Newt’s different. I haven’t felt this deeply for someone in my entire existence. I think I might really like him, Brenda. Even love him.” 

“This is Newt we’re talking about, am I correct? The same Newt who is quiet, motherly, and a self-proclaimed virgin? Who loves to go down and talk to the mortals? Why do you admire him?” The pair watched as Newt smiled to himself, watching his fire grow. 

Y/n scoffed. “That’s what I love about him! He’s kind and thoughtful. He loves everyone and takes care of them. Yet puts his foot down when he needs to and gets crap done.” 

“Could it also be the fact that he’s the one person who doesn’t want you to court him? That he’s unattainable?” Brenda asked, lifting a brow. 

“Maybe.” Y/n grumbled. 

“I think you need to let him go.” Brenda said, “Find a random mortal to take your mind off Newt. It’ll do you good and get past your infatuation with him.” 

“It’s not an infatuation!” Y/n argued, “I have real feelings for him.” 

“Like Minho struck you himself?” Brenda asked sarcastically. 

“Yes!” Y/n ignored the sarcasm. “But fine,” she sighed, “I’ll go find a lowly mortal to chase until my ‘infatuation’ goes away.” Y/n stuck out her tongue at her friend before her sandals’ wings popped open and flew her down the mountain. 

“Sonya, Newt.” Brenda approached the hearth, greeting both gods. Sonya was sitting by the boy, chatting with him. The two were close, almost acting like brother and sister. 

“Hello Brenda.” Both gods said. Newt lifted a hand in a wave, the flames flickering around it. 

“And what is the pair of you talking about?” Brenda sat on a bench next to them. She and Sonya shared a glance. 

“Talking about Newt’s forbidden love for Y/n.” Sonya bluntly said. 

“What?!” Newt cried, “No! I don’t lov- like Y/n! I am a virgin god! I don’t have idiotic feelings for anyone!” 

“That seemed awfully defensive of you.” Sonya commented. Newt’s fire flared up and Sonya laughed. 

“Why have you been refusing Y/n advances at courting?” Brenda tilted her head. Sonya looked interested in the answer as well. 

“I am a virgin god.” Newt said frankly, looking proud of himself. 

“It’s interesting that you didn’t say the reason was because you don’t like her back.” Sonya accused quietly, hiding behind her hand. Brenda snorted. 

Newt was offended. “I never- I was…” He stuttered, trailing off. 

“Perhaps you should go down to Earth and relax as a mortal for a while?” Sonya suggested, “You always like that, don’t you? Pretend to be another person and clear your worries.” 

“I might like that.” Newt said before Brenda could protest. He nodded, stood, and walked off. 

Brenda squeaked out a high-pitched noise and turned, aghast, to Sonya. “What?” Sonya asked, confused.

“I just sent Y/n down to Earth as well.” 

“Ooh…” Sonya inhaled sharply. “Well, Earth is a large place. What may the chances be that they run into one another?” 

“Hopefully slim to none.” 

**

Y/n walked among the streets of Sparta, not feeling free at all. Even though there were many handsome young men and women, all who looked at her with interest, her mind couldn’t leave Newt. She kicked up dirt, staring at the ground. While Y/n loved Earth, sometimes she wished she could just whip out her winged sandals and soar above everyone. 

“Excuse me?” A voice behind her caught her attention. Y/n turned around to see a young gentleman behind her. “Oh,” the young man frowned, “sorry, you looked like someone I knew.” 

Y/n got that a lot on her time on Earth. She didn’t like to change her appearance much, other than the shape and colour of a few features, so a lot of mortals thought they recognized her from her statues in the temples. 

“It’s okay.” She said, “I get that a lot.”

“I’m Paul.” The young man stuck out his hand and Y/n shook it. He had dark brown curly hair and brilliant green eyes. He smiled warmly at her and Y/n couldn’t help but feel deja-vu. 

“Uh, Marie.” Y/n chose the first name that came to mind. 

“Very nice to meet you, Marie. What brings you to Sparta?” Paul asked, gesturing for her to continue walking. 

“And how do you conclude I’m not a native?” 

“The way you hold yourself. You seem to be looking for something.” Paul swept a hand to the citizens. “They all have a purpose. You’re simply wandering the streets.” 

“A keen eye.” Y/n complimented, “You deduced correctly. I’m not from Sparta. I’m here to… take a vacation you could say. My life is very busy and my mind always turning. I was hoping to take some of that stress away.” 

“What is your mind turning about?” Paul asked. 

“That’s quite personal, don’t you think, Paul?” Y/n asked, thoughts wandering to Newt. 

“Pardon my intrusion.” Paul chuckled. 

“And what about you? You don’t seem like a citizen of Sparta.” Y/n turned to look at the young man walking beside her. 

“I’m not. Same as you, I’ve come to get away from my home. There was this… girl.” Paul sighed, seeming a bit wistful. 

“A girl?” Y/n raised an eyebrow. “Oh, do tell.” 

** Newt had come down to Earth, just as Sonya suggested. Even though he was less than hopeful it would work, Newt had indeed found his mind off the subject of Y/n. He had met a lovely mortal girl, by the name of Marie. She wasn’t from Sparta, as Newt had learned, and she was hesitant about her home and past. Not that Newt minded; after all, he was secretive about his home on Mt. Olympus as well.

Marie seemed familiar in an odd way. Her demeanour seemed sad and melancholy, but Newt was sure there was more underneath the surface. He had originally thought she was Y/n, off to run deliveries to demigods or something other, but it had turned out not to be. He had told his name was Paul, as to not scare her away with his celestial being. 

“Back at home,” Newt hesitantly said, “I’ve forbidden myself to marry.” 

“Why?” Marie frowned, confused. 

“I’ve never found interest in it.” Newt shrugged, hands clasped behind his back. “But then a girl came along. She was amazing. The life of the party and every boy wanted her. She was always working, however. Never got a break. Though, I guess that was because of her parents and boss. The problem was two things: one, she had many relationships throughout the years and I never felt good enough for her. Two, I had sworn myself a virgin. It’s wrong and against myself to feel those feelings for her, but I can’t help it. I can’t tell her, can I? I would be breaking my vow and making a fool of myself.” 

Marie paused, then said, “Well, does she like you back? Does she want you to court her?” 

Newt huffed a laugh. “That’s the terrible irony of it. She’s expressed her love for me many times. She’s been wanting to court me herself. I’ve refused on account that I’m a virgin, and I don’t want to be another one among the masses. I want to mean something to her.”

Marie said, “This sounds like a problem one of my friends is having.”

“And what did they do about it? I would love some suggestions.” 

Marie sighed. “They ran away from it. And although they might’ve never forgiven themselves, they did find someone else. They felt content and happy with that person.” 

“But did they feel the love and passion you’re supposed to feel in a relationship?” 

Marie looked at him, lips slightly turned in a smile. “They have yet to find out.” 

Just then, a loud clap of thunder struck the air and rain started falling. Newt saw this as Ava’s reminder to hurry back to Mt. Olympus. “I have to go.” He said quickly, “I’m sorry.” 

“As do I.” Marie started to hurry away. 

“Wait!” Newt called back to her, “Can I see you again? I enjoyed our talk. And I would love to hear what happens to your friend.”

“Uh…” Marie glanced at the now dark sky. “Perhaps, I think so. In a week? Same place and time?” 

Newt grinned. “I can’t wait.”

**

Both Y/n and Newt had infrequented Mt. Olympus in the past months. All of the gods had noticed changes in both of them. Y/n had worked less and seemed more cheerful and relaxed overall. She had been seen taking a nap, something that she’d never been able to do, due to her schedule. Newt had started humming to himself while tending the fire and had engaged in the gods’ councils more often. He was speaking up for himself, showing off his opinions. 

Sonya, Brenda, and Minho had been seen huddled together, whispering and shooting glances every which way. The trio was hell-bent on getting the two gods together. Sonya, although respecting his wishes as a virgin, saw how he loved Y/n- no matter his oath. Brenda, albeit seeing many of Y/n’s other lovers, somehow knew this one was different. Y/n had been right; she hadn’t been with anyone in a very long time just because of Newt. Minho, not caring that Newt was a virgin, was desperate to push them together; he was the god of love and wanted to see some between some of his best friends. 

“As much as I love that Newt’s in love,” Minho sighed, “I hate that it’s not with Y/n!”

“We should be happy for them.” Sonya said. 

“Be realistic,” Brenda cut in, “they both are in love with mortals. What happens when their mortals die?” 

“They’ll be heartbroken.” Sonya said. 

“And single!” Minho gasped, “Then they could be together!” 

“In fifty years!” Brenda protested, “I don’t know. How long do mortals live?”

Sonya ignored her, “These humans are good for them. If you haven’t noticed, Newt’s been much more outgoing and extroverted. Y/n’s taking breaks for once and is finally getting her mind off Newt. It’s bringing out the best in them.”

“Yeah,” Minho whined, “but they’re not together! I don’t like it! As the god of love, I would like to think I have final say over these things.”

“You can’t force someone to love someone else.” 

“That’s literally my job description!” 

“Look,” Sonya gazed down at Earth, “how happy Newt is with his mortal.” 

The three gods watched as a different-looking Newt lazily walked along with Marie. The two were laughing over something he had said. 

“No,” Brenda corrected, “that’s Y/n with her mortal. See?” The gods peered down to see the deities forms shimmering in human bodies. Y/n and Newt walked together down a street in Sparta, not knowing it was the other they were talking to.

“Wait.” Minho chuckled dryly, “Are you saying that Y/n and Newt are each others’ mortals, yet they don’t know it? Y/n doesn’t know that Paul is Newt, and Newt doesn’t know that Y/n is Marie?” 

His question was met with silence. The gods stared down at Earth, mouths agape and eyes wide. 

“Fuck….” 

**

“Newt, we need to talk.” Minho sashayed up to his friend, sitting down next to the hearth. He, Sonya, and Brenda had decided that bluntness was the best way to go. If they tried to cushion Newt’s fall, maybe the fall wouldn’t be as long. 

“Yes?” Newt looked up at the trio. 

“We’ve noticed you falling for a mortal, Marie.” Minho started. Newt instantly protested. 

“I am not in love! Especially not with a mortal and I am a vir-”

“Shut it with the virgin god crap.” Minho cut him off, “You love Marie and Y/n. Stop denying you love Y/n. But there is one small problem. Y/n and Marie are the same person.”

“What?” Newt’s mouth fell open. “No. That’s not possible.” 

“It is,” Sonya intervened. “You’ve just been ignoring the godly aura coming off of Marie. You’ve been pulling the wool over your own eyes, forcing it to be knotted up tight. You’ve known it was Y/n all along.” 

“No, I didn’t!” Newt’s fire grew along with his voice. “And why didn’t you tell me sooner?! I could’ve spared my heart!”

“So you do love her!” Minho crowed. 

“Not the time.” Brenda hissed, snacking his shoulder.

“I- I won’t. I’ll pretend she’s not. I promise she won’t know the difference!” Newt tried to negotiate. “I mean, I can’t be in love with Y/n. I’ve been rejecting her since… forever. I couldn’t do that to her- or Marie. Why do I feel terrible? How did Y/n never figure it out?”

“Same as you,” Sonya took one of his hands, patting it reassuringly. “She wanted to love Paul so she could forget Newt. The problem is, her scheme unintentionally got her closer to Newt. As did your scheme.”

“I just can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner.”

“The heart sees what’s invisible to the eye.” Sonya smiled.

“The heart wants what it wants.” Minho inputted, smirking.

“The heart has reasons that reason does not know.” Brenda added coyly.

After a minute where Newt was lost in his head, lines coming together and strings untangling, pieces lining up and the scale of Justice weighing its turn, he spoke. “Alright,” he said. “I love Y/n. I see that now.” His eyes flickered up. “Have you told her about… me and Paul?”

“No.”

“Good. I want to be the one to tell her.” 

Newt knew where he would find Y/n. She would be in her room, resting from a day of deliveries. He knocked on her door. “Y/n?” 

“Come in.” Newt entered the room to find Y/n sitting on her bed, reading a scroll with a lazy smile on her face. “Oh, hi Newt.” 

“Hi.” Newt sat down. “Can we talk?” 

“Uh, sure. But make it quick. I have a meeting I need to get to.” Y/n glanced out the window at the Sun, which was really just Harriet flying across the world. 

“With Paul?” Newt guessed, knowing full well that they had planned to meet up today. 

“How did you know?” Y/n looked accusingly at him. “I haven’t told anyone about him- much less his name.” 

Newt sighed. “This is going to sound crazy,” he began, “but Paul isn’t who you think he is.” He paused and looked at Y/n. She was glaring at him with something between scepticism and hesitance. “I’m Paul.” 

“What?” She laughed, as if she didn’t believe him. The wings from her sandals sprouted, starting to whiz all over the place. Y/n patted at them until they stopped. “No, you’re not.” 

“I am, and I can prove it.” Newt’s form shifted until he was an exact replica of Paul. He stared at Y/n with eyes that didn’t look like his, but emotion that was identical to the mortal’s. Y/n hated to admit it, but standing before her was her Paul. But her Paul was Newt. 

“No. You’re lying,” Y/n said, standing and backing up from him. Newt changed back into his true, godly form. “This is all some cruel, evil joke on me. I would expect something from me, but you, Newt? I’m the trickster here, not you! I’ve finally moved on from you and accepted your boundaries which I probably should’ve done from the beginning, but I was so enamoured by you that I didn’t care. And after all of that, when I finally lent my heart to another, you come in here just to mess it up and claim that you’re my love.”

“But I am!” Newt cried. He seemed distraught, but quickly took a deep breath. He didn’t believe it at first either. “Please. I didn’t know that you were Marie.” Y/n flinched at the name. “But Minho, Sonya, and Brenda made me see it. We were blinding ourselves, Y/n. We didn’t want to see each other.” 

“But I loved you.” Tears came to the goddess’ eyes. “And then I finally found myself in another. Why can’t we just ignore that?” 

“Because I love you!” Newt shouted. He inhaled shakily, almost wanting to retract the words that were suspended in the air. They seemed to float there, neither one wanting them to fizz out. “I love you.” Newt said again. He sniffed, running a hand down his face to try and kill the tears that were forming. “I really do. And I wanted to ignore it, but everyday it just kept getting stronger. All the things you did just made me love you more. A- And maybe that’s why I love Marie. Because you’re her. Because I got to see the raw, true you. I’ve never wanted to love. I wanted to shield myself from the heartbreak I saw every single day, but I couldn’t. Love happened anyway. It’s inevitable. And I’m so glad it is. Because I get to love you. I know you’re confused and hurt right now, but I hope that you can look past that for one second and see your true feelings so I know if I’m going to be the happiest anyone has ever been, or the most miserable.” 

Deafening silence filled the room. Newt waited and waited for Y/n to say something, but she was lost in her thoughts. After what felt like an eternity, Newt nodded and turned. “Come find me once you make a decision.” 

“Wait.” Y/n’s voice cut like glass. Newt looked back at her, bracing. “I love you too.” Y/n smiled a tear-stained smile. “I can’t make as big of a declaration as you can, but I hope you know that through all the uncertainty and doubt, my feelings are still there. And maybe, at some point, those feelings were for Paul, but you’re him, right?” Newt nodded, grinning brilliantly. “I guess I love you.” Y/n stated. 

Newt enveloped her in a hug. Y/n laughed lightly and hugged him back. “Really?” Newt whispered, “You truly love me?” 

“Yes.” 

“Then can I kiss you?” 

“Yes.” 

In the throne room, Minho gasped and breathed out, “It’s happening!”

[newathens]

the answer got too long for replies also im on my lunch break, so here are things im rotating in my mind about pjoiv

<33333 ok ok this is a big question! but here are things off the top of my head:

Athena siding with Zeus and Annabeth going back to Percy even when her mother mocks her for it

the opening itself!! the shock the betrayal the way Percy has to open his eyes against wilful ignorance re: Paul

the fact that they have to go back to Greece bc thats where their strongholds, their places of power are, and they NEED all the power they can get

Percy absolutely losing it as he deserves. him scaring the gods....

Poseidon and Sally and Amphitrite. teehee

the battle of Athens

JASON COMING BACK!!! huuuuge w for me

im also thinking heavy about the way that even those who were so close to Percy, people he would and has killed for, once they are on the side of the enemy.... thats it thats finished

books and stories maturing with us my beloved

laila im literally strong-arming myself from getting into all the little details of this and spoiling everything reeeeee but omg your last sentence. that’s actually a big reason idt rick is fully done

but anyway. percy’s relationships and ties you’re so right it’s a huge deal in part one (separate from his other issues cause i always pile too much on). he struggles with it so severely that it almost costs them a win and he just reaches a natural breaking point. cause his loyalty isn’t necessarily just to his side, but to his values. and i think a man who would sacrifice the world for a friend, would in turn have a terribly hard time harming that friend. it comes down to a choice of like, which friend outweighs which. in other words, are thalia and percy going to get into a big bitch fight on the battlefield yes they are. will he and frank yes probably. is he going to maim…. god i hope so

the ignorance oof the entire first chapter is him telling the reader he knew the whole time and just could never say it out loud yikessss (don’t hold me to that but that’s the best place for it i think) and the more i think abt the opening the more i get scared of it the image of a kid being ripped from the earth by a giant bird going super fast gets a visceral reaction out of me

JASON !!! 🫶 he is so happy to be here and it’s all cause of nico like they are the angst relief they get us through part ii. and everyone’s overjoyed to have him back (like us)

ok i’ve rambled long enough i think just know u are never alone contemplating pjoiv we are in this together. i hope the rest of your day goes well and work is as easy as can be 💕

WAIT PS !!!! @juregim here are the things rotating in my mind: dionysus’ re-introduction as Dionysus and not mr.d, hera and annabeth’s friendship, percy bonding with his older siblings!!, sally’s kidnapping, annabeth and percy’s relationship issues, their separation and ultimately reconciliation, percy’s anger & wild powers, poseidon as more a father than a god, but also poseidon as himself from myth that is TERRIFYING, zeus hades and poseidon’s relationships as brothers, triton becoming a more developed character, thalia as a villain, the setting of tinos (we spend a lot of time there), the wedding scene, the birth scene, and so much more

[nectaric]

NAME?: renee PRONOUNS?: she / her MOST ACTIVE MUSE(S)?: zeus, hades, hera, makaria RP PET PEEVES?: i get a little frustrated by the general lack of engagement a lot of people participate in. i know we can all be guilty of it - scrolling past memes mutuals post, not liking starter calls, etc. i know we all have our reasons / sometimes lack the spoons. but i think sometimes there's this very big "well they haven't sent me something so i can't send them something" mentality that goes on, and leads to people feeling isolated and frustrated. if someone's not getting interactions, but they're also not making an effort to interact with others, it just feeds into this continued isolation and i have a hard time finally bad for them. sometimes, you have to make the first move, because if we're all waiting for someone else to do it, its not gonna happen. this is a collaborative hobby. (obviously, i'm not talking about people who have genuine difficulty getting interactions for other reasons, like oc's/female muses/poc muses/etc) EXPERIENCE / HOW MANY YEARS?: most of my experience has been with indie rp, but i started roleplaying through facebook groups, those old quiz sites, and eventually tumblr group roleplays in various fandoms, which i think puts me at about 12-13 years of roleplay, i think. EXPERIENCE?: mostly tumblr, but some skype, facebook, google docs, and discord thrown in there. FLUFF, ANGST, OR SMUT?: angst is literally the thing that fuels me, and its my favourite thing to write every time. to me though, angst isn't just about pain but about creating scenarios for character's to really grow and i just can't accomplish that as well with fluff or smut. both of them are good options, but they're for specific moods. i'm all angst all the time baby PLOTS OR MEMES?: memes are the easiest way to get things going and explore dynamics quickly. i do not have the attention span or often the desire to communicate ooc enough for plotting so memes are the way to go! LONG OR SHORT REPLIES?: i like a happy medium, i think. too short and i get bored, but too long and i get overwhelmed, so usually 1-3 paragraphs is golden for me. depending on the nature of the thread, of course. TIME TO WRITE?: first thing in the morning usually. its when i'm most productive and have the brain worms so i'll usually write before work, or during my first hour there before the kiddos come in. ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S)?: in some ways, yes. but i think in a lot of ways, my muses are versions of what i would like to be like, in one way or another. minus the trauma. good lord, minus that. but yeah, i think i share some similarities (i make jokes about being ares, for example. i'm just a Dad). but no, i don't think i ever intentionally pick muses like me or actively model them after myself. if i do, its completely subconscious.

tagged: i stole it tbh tagging: you!

[alluringjae]

until dawn - ljn

part I | part II

⤑ summary: basic number one rule of the museum is not to touch the art. but no one told jeno that falling for one of them isn’t allowed either.

⤑ pairing: jeno x female reader

⤑ word count: 14k

⤑ genre: fluff, humor, angst | broke architecture major!jeno, historical figure!reader, college!au

⤑ warnings: jaemin mentions onlyfans as a joke, references to actual historical figures (some try to flirt with jeno lol) and literature, explicit language

⤑ author’s note: wow, i’ve had this idea for almost two years! this one was inspired by one of my favorite childhood movies, night at the museum. it definitely required a lot of research and brainstorming, and finally i brought it to life! it was so fun to play around with the characters, and even if majority of them are real people, this is all still fiction.

i also wanna mention one of my moots, marge for enlightening me about her life as an architecture major.

⤑ taglist: @renjunniehome​ (dm me if you want to be added) 

⤑ leave me some feedback, constructive criticism or hellos!

Dormitory rent was another thing to worry about aside from the inflated university tuition per semester. Although he’s lucky to have his parents backing him up already on it, paying the monthly rent for his dorm was the remaining objective on Jeno’s list.

Plus, money for food. The man was a heavy eater, following the whole “gym is life” mantra.

Splitting it already with two of his dorm mates turned best friends, Renjun and Jaemin, his plate felt lighter. But the question still lies: where on earth was he going to get the money?

He’s practically checked out every available part-timing job in university and anywhere near campus. Barista at the same café Jaemin works at, teaching assistant for an art school for kids, convenience store cashier, library assistant, all taken in a heartbeat. The burden of his friends paying his debt these past months took a toll on him, almost to the point he almost considered making an Onlyfans.

“Yah, just find something else! Part-timers are in demand right now!” Renjun intensely closed his laptop before his older friend gets any suggestive thoughts.

“I mean, you didn’t work out your body to look the way it is for nothing.” Jaemin pitched otherwise, lifting the front back up. “When do you want to start filming? Loads of chicks would dig a piece of you!”

The contradicting opinions of his friends were like the devil and angel debating on his shoulders. Useless, he gave this worry a rest and returned to drawing new plates. A common thing when you’re an architecture major. Those deadlines were nearing. Looks like he’ll pull another all-nighter again.

Good thing most of his classes were late in the morning until 6 pm.

As if someone from above heard his petition, Jeno saw a help wanted sign posted on the bulletin board outside of the university museum. He initially went there to document some artwork and architecture models from Greek and Roman times, further analyzing how they’re still apparent in modern buildings.

The sign explained the need for one part-timer from any college to cover the night shift of the museum due to the current night guard’s full semester absence. He only had to come in 3x a week, choosing his days since he was still a student. Even the pay was above average, considering that most part-timers never go beyond midnight. Jeno would, on the other hand, always staying for his projects or gaming with the boys. Drinking sometimes during late-night Fridays with his entire college crew.

The pay would leave him a load of extra cash for himself, thus he sent an application to the museum office right before he left. A week later, while he was out with the boys, he got a text from the office that they wanted to meet him again for a final interview first thing on Monday.

Perhaps it was having architecture as his course and a healthy physique that landed him the part-timer position. Mainly, the latter because guards required strong endurance and fighting skills when worse comes to worst. It would start at 9 pm until 6 am the following day, and there was a designated uniform of it too. Blue blazer with matching trousers, white dress top, and loafers.

Aside from the typical museum etiquette the head director instructed him about, there was an unofficial list of tips written on paper given from the night guard on leave when the director handed you over his box of office-related things.

Only read at the night guard office once you’re the remaining staff left.

He did as he was told like an obedient son, flipping the succeeding page.

 To my temporary replacement,

This part-timing job is nothing regular than the other jobs. You’ll witness things as you’ve never imagined them to be, almost like witchcraft. You’ll be lost and maybe frightened, or that’s how I felt the first time because no one led me through it all those years ago. Lucky for you, I made this small guide on how to properly take care of the place that the other staff doesn’t know about.

Before you proceed, I request you take a 5-minute stroll around the lobby first to understand what I’m talking about. After such, go back to the office or somewhere quiet then browse through the guide as quickly as you could.

Art is timeless here, so they need to be taken care of.

Good luck!

 Park Sanghoon

Night Guard on Leave

 Nothing could’ve prepared Jeno for what’s to come once he unlocked the office door. They say that art brings so much color to our life, allowing us to feel all sorts of emotions in a glimpse. But no one ever interpreted art to be literally alive and walking in the halls.

Behold, random wax figures and marble sculptures that he’s seen in the past roamed the hallways, as well as the paintings were interacting with each other side by side. Even the standee of a puppy from the entrance played fetch with one of those sculptures. He swore he looked like Hermes the messenger god from his arrow headpiece and sandals.

It made more sense why the guard on leave explained his feelings during the first day because it resembled Jeno’s. But unlike that guard, Jeno sucked it up. No one ever does well on the first day, even if others say otherwise. The first day was a learning experience, so he collected his thoughts even though the goosebumps triggered his body during that one rotation.

There was an indoor garden, already locked by the day guard earlier. The only room without any art piece, where students lounge to study the plants or relax in nature.

The sculptures section ahead, showcasing various fictional figures specifically from Greek mythology, chattered away about family drama and beliefs. The sculptures of Hades and Zeus, according to their title plate, argued relentlessly about power while Athena always intervened by shouting or even throwing arrows or daggers to any of the lightbulbs there.

That was one rule in the guide, but Jeno didn’t know yet until he came inside the room and swerved the attention of the arguing duo.

“Well, what do we have here?” Zeus, in the center, straightened his posture on his throne to present himself in a more regal way. “Are you perhaps the temporary replacement of Sir Sanghoon?”

“Sir Sanghoon’s stand-in is rather good looking, don’t you think?” Hera mused, stepping down from her throne beside Zeus to take a closer look at the taller male. Her cold fingers trailed his jaw until his chest, where his heart was beating intensely. She even pinched his toned bicep, mouthing wow.

“Truly handsome you are, my dear. So full of life, please introduce yourself to us.”

While Jeno introduced himself to everyone in that room, he answered any sorts of questions they had for him too. From his age, educational background, hobbies, Aphrodite just had to ask him if he had a girlfriend because he was that handsome.

“Nope, I’m single. With my degree in architecture, the requirements are so heavy I can’t even try dating.”

Mentioning his degree excited the gods, telling him how their people created and designed all these temples to house them and perform rituals. They loved it so much. This was a copy-paste of what Jeno learned from his history classes, and for a first, he’s hearing the perspective of the Greek gods.

Mind-boggling that he hasn’t fully freaked out yet. That’s what Athena anticipated when Sanghoon told her about his short leave, putting her in charge of everyone for the meantime while the replacement settled down.

The college museum was built during the late 70s as a gift from one of the alumni. It was for the purpose to preserve history and educate college students outside the classroom. The Greek mythology exhibit was the oldest one, making Athena have more seniority. Over her stay, she’s seen every new guard lose their senses during the first night. Some not even returning for a second night. She got used to every outcome, and so far, only 8 people lasted after the first night. A couple of students in the 70s and 80s, Sanghoon in the 90s, and now Jeno was one of them.

“Jeno, aren’t you terrified by us? You just got a job in a museum that comes to life every night, and it’s not a normal thing.”

“Well, I’m still shaken up about it. But it’s my first night, and it’s when I learn everything about the place from head to toe. Plus, I really need the money.”

“Money for what? But you’re young, a student even!”

“Yes, I am. However, I do pay for the rent in my dorm. So, this job is like my first big responsibility, and I want to perform well.”

Athena commended his sense of authority, capable of leading himself. She noticed how well-spoken and poised he is, respecting and listening to everything the gods and goddesses said even if they were nonsense. She never liked to compromise with her power, taking a while to like Sanghoon back in the day. Though Jeno looked like a natural leader on his first night. If he could take care of himself well, he’s skilled to take care of the rest in the museum as well.

Plus she had full control on the nights he won’t be there, especially the weekend.

With his potential, Athena mentored him the entire night about the gist of the entire museum. Every upcoming leader needs an intelligent mentor, right? She was naturally gifted with worthy leadership skills, managing Jeno like her own child.

Athena explained how the museum came to life, which was through a royal golden plate from the Oriental room. It was a gift from a popular sorceress in China to an affluent family from the Han dynasty, who wished them a long life after she was saved from invaders due to them. The plate preserved over time, becoming an artifact. Its power remained immortal, mutating to bring life wherever it goes. In this case, the museum since its arrival in the late 70s as well.

“That’s why the Oriental room must be locked always so no one could touch or break the plate.”

After she ordered Jeno to lock the mentioned room, alongside the Foreign Art Exhibit Room which he checked out for his class, she led him to the best view of the entire museum. Center of the second floor, where stairs were on both sides. Jeno marveled at the vivacious atmosphere, witnessing actual art living, breathing, and enjoying themselves.

“Unreal, right?” She leaned in the railing, scanning through the chatty paintings.

Jeno also leaned down, deep in thought and wonder. “Absolutely, Athena. How come no one knows about this? Art coming to life? It’ll invite more students to the museum.”

“That goes against a golden rule as a night guard in this museum.” She replied bluntly. “The life that goes on inside this museum at night must remain a secret to the public.”

Jeno predicted this kind of response, having watched too many films where anything supernatural mustn’t be revealed. Although he liked the advantage of knowing something this powerful, he’d never abuse it.

Athena’s intellect was beyond the world, seamlessly reading Jeno’s expression and what he was thinking. He had good intentions even if he’s a bit mischievous. She needed to keep a keen eye on him, but for now, he needed to explore on his own.

“Anyways, Sanghoon still left out some other details. So if you have any questions, I’ll be at my exhibit trying to shut my father and my uncle up again.”

“Can you not use any weapons to do so?”

“Can’t make any promises, Jeno.” She slyly cracked her knuckles and neck as if she was fighting another battle.

Jeno was silently left with himself, finally browsing through Sanghoon’s guide while seated in one of the museum benches.

It consisted of 25 rules, wherein the first two rules consisted of locking up. One, for the doors and gates of the museum, so no art piece could escape. If they do, they will turn into dust when the sun is out according to Athena. Two, locking the Oriental and Foreign Art Rooms, which was already done.

Rule #5: Let Mochi the puppy from the lobby tag along with you; feed him treats if you have any.

On cue, the little guy barked from the corridor and raced to his side. Jeno carried him, babying him for a little and letting him lick his face a few times before putting him back down. He’s surely going to the pet store first thing in the morning with the museum allowance the director gave him.

Since he was on the second floor, he read and followed the rules that fit in before returning downstairs. On the other side of the floor were the wax figures exhibitions: one for prominent men in history while the other for prominent women. Well, more people to get acquainted with.

It’s the exchange of gasps and profanities he received when he chose the latter room. Seeing their faces, these were women he’s learned in school and online. Now in the (fake) flesh. Except for one girl he’s never heard of, unbothered in her corner sketching her life away in a sketchpad. But before he could check who she was, a suggestive touch on his arm distracted him.

“My, oh my, Hera wasn’t lying when she said that the new night guard was a fine specimen.” By her dark blue eyeshadow and eyeliner with the snake-like crown, Cleopatra studied him like he was one of the most renowned art pieces. Even patting his chest, abdomen, and arms with both her hand, Jeno caught a suggestive glint in her eyes and a smirk across her red lips.

Rule #13: Reject Cleopatra’s seductive advances at all costs.

“Goodness, Cleopatra. It’s only his first night, and you’re scaring him.” With her accent, round eyes, and a chic formal outfit, she carried a posh aura while unhesitatingly scolding the Queen of the Nile.

“Come on now, Diana. He’s stunning, who wouldn’t go after him?” If no one knew her, you’re not reading up on your world history. She’s said to have been a lovely and intelligent woman, gone so soon. Jeno definitely understood why after she detached Cleopatra’s raging hands off him.

Rule #14: Treat Princess Diana and Hera like your own parent.

“Your highness.” Jeno nodded at her out of respect, only making her chuckle uncontrollably.

“No need to address me like that, love. Now, come here.” She widened her arms for Jeno, hugging him amiably. He sensed her motherly warmth, accepting such a gesture. “You remind me so much of my youngest son, Harry. Welcome to the night shift of the museum, love.”

Similar to the Greek mythology exhibit, he introduced himself and responded to any questions that the women wax figures may have. Good for him, they weren’t crossing any borders and kept him at ease.

“A student like you working at night to pay rent?” Katherine Johnson, an African-American NASA mathematician whose calculations led to the success of a lot of famous spaceflights, cannot believe her ears. Students must only focus on school, nothing else. “What about your studies, boy?”

Rule #15: Engage in academic discussions with Katherine Johnson whenever you can.

“Most of my classes are in the afternoon, Miss Katherine. So I’ll sleep in the entire morning later and study during my breaks.”

“Mr. Jeno, what do you like to do outside of work?” Anne Frank, a German-Dutch teenager whose revolutionary diary that documented her life in hiding from the Nazis gained popularity worldwide after publication dreamily asked from her section of the exhibit. Her life was robbed of greatness merely because of her religion and war.

Rule #16: Bring delicious food or gifts to Anne Frank.

“Well, I like to bike with my friends, exercise, and draw whatever comes into mind!”

Everyone he’s met so far acquired pleasure in knowing about who he was and his passion for architecture, ridding the “freaking out” phase Athena assumed he had. Yet not everyone in this exhibit bothered to give him a shot.

Jeno’s attention from Anne talking about her crush towards Peter van Daan, a teenage boy who lived with her, switched to the section beside her, where an unacquainted figure was zealously sketching as if something was due to the following day. It reflected how he’d look when he’s cramming one of his plates due to first thing in the morning. While he properly excused himself, he quietly gazed at the way this woman scrunched her eyebrows when she erased something then drew it again. She was someone he’s never seen or heard before, reading the information plate in front of him about her.

 (Y/N) (Y/L/N), Explorer and Author. (1854-1900)

 Wealthy women in the Victorian Era only served one purpose in society: marry a man from a prestigious family, have his children and join whatever interests they have. However, for (Y/N), she wasn’t going to conform to those standards.

Born into the affluent house of (Y/L/N), she was the youngest of 8 children. She was said to be the kindest and sweetest sibling out of everyone, not capable of hurting anyone or anything. She said it herself that she can’t throw away a dying flower because it’s too painful. While 5 of her older brothers were sent to school, she stayed at home with her 2 older sisters Cecilia and Amelia where she learned how to play the piano and take voice lessons from impressive teachers. Due to the huge age gaps between them (12 and 8 respectively), she never felt close with them. She was only closest to the 6th and 7th siblings, her twin brothers Benjamin and Liam whom she only had a 2-year gap. She was also best friends with one of the scullery maids her age, Lily, because she found her amusing that than the boring rich girls her mother forced to interact with.

The moment it bothered her that she wanted to live a more meaningful life was when Amelia got married. She was 12 years old at the time, and it left her as the last unwed daughter in the family. Badly did she want to revolt, which she gradually did. Instead of practicing piano, she’d sneak in to read every book in her father’s office. She secretly studied the notes of her older brothers from school and even dressed as a boy numerously thanks to Benjamin and Liam to join their classes or field trips.

This was her routine up until the age of 18 when she stomped her foot down and expressed to her parents that she wasn’t going to let Victorian society dictate her. The night before her parents were bound to send her to her great aunt’s home down South to sort her out, she successfully snuck out her house thanks to Lily, Benjamin, and Liam. It’s another good thing that she saved a lot of money for that moment.

Off she went across Europe first, then sailed to America and even parts of Asia. Initially under the name Lilibe, coined from picking the first two letters of her brothers and best friend, she documented her days and nights through her journals and sketches. Over time, she sent them to her brothers for publication. It started the franchise, “The Adventures of the Young and Free Lilibe”. There are 10 books under it.

She learned French, Spanish, Mandarin, Japanese, and Korean by herself as she made friends from those places. It was rare of someone like her to be fluent in Oriental languages, surprising locals every time she spoke to them. She was the only explorer to vividly describe life in different Asian lands in English, talking about their history and culture. With her accurate drawings of diverse citizens and their daily lives, it educated a lot of those living back home in Europe about them rather than speaking lowly of them.

In Seoul did she stayed the longest until her death from pneumonia at the young age of 46.

In her posthumous work, Finding Me, did she reveal her real identity, dedicating it to her parents whom she apologized and expressed her love for them despite everything that occurred between them. She talked about the last years of her life in Seoul, how locals were so nice and inviting to her, and how she adopted kids instead of having her own through the years.

“It’s not because I never found love in men. It’s more like I found love in doing things I’m passionate about. Traveling, learning new cultures, it outweighed the human need of romance.”

Due to her thrill in taking risks and embarking on wondrous adventures, it brought inspiration to a lot of young girls pressured to marry at that time to pursue what they really want.

 A remarkable background you had, Jeno contemplated. How come no one discussed her in his classes?

You kept brushing the bangs of your hair back as it fell repeatedly. But you got irritated instantly because it sabotaged your drive, you brought out a hairpin from her desk and attached it on both sides. But when you shifted your angle of focus, the corner of your eye locked with Jeno’s attentive gaze.

He didn’t flinch, even he should’ve. He wasn’t one to linger his look on anyone’s physical appearances, but your story and the passion on your face as you sketched mesmerized him. He was charmed, to say the least.

“Uhm, hello there?” You broke the silence due to your uneasiness about it. What’s his deal?

Jeno bowed, reintroducing himself to you. As soon as his presence settled in the room when Cleopatra attempted to hit on him, you could’ve cared less. Though this man was a first for you, a first in a long time as all guards would feel intimidated by you during the first night. Even your sharp tongue didn’t faze him. “Staring is rude, sir. Didn’t your mother teach you manners?”

“She did,” He wandered through the exterior of your section, by the fence that separated you and him. Not breaking eye contact, his eyes turned into moon crescents as he smirked with trouble. “Though she also told me to appreciate the art too.”

Snorts noisily exhaled from Cleopatra, who took the center section of the exhibit, succeeded by Princess Diana’s whispered gasps and Katherine’s side-eyeing Anne beside her while she taught her math. That was an odd way a guard conversed with you, but Jeno was merely doing what the rules stated. Partly, he was impressed with his cheesy pick-up line, partly embarrassed because he’s never spoken like this to anyone.

Rule #17: Act playfully around (Y/N) (Y/L/N) to break the tension; she’s a harsh one.

There was irony between the information he read about your life versus the wax model. Even when you faced sexism and ran away according to your history, never were you impolite to anyone in your life. You couldn’t even kill a lurking fly when it roams around your food! It showed Jeno a possibility that as much as you’re just a wax version of someone famous in the past, maybe the external environment around you had a heavy influence too.

“You fool!” His confidence exasperated you, urging you to persistently throw balls of paper with your failed sketches at him. No one dared to talk to you like that, most especially a night guard. “Take that for your comment!”

If you thought he’d scram away and act repentant, you were proven wrong. His reflexes were parallel to a spider, capturing every single paper ball without fail. Up and down his body went, one arm held on to them and no more were left on your part. Never a single defeat during the first meeting in years, but that seemed to alter now.

“Give up already, Ms. (Y/L/N)?” Jeno remarked vibrantly as he discarded your mess in the trash bin behind him. If he managed to get everyone to like him tonight, he wanted to make sure to have you onboard too.

Whatever agenda he had, you weren’t up for it. You’d treat him the same way you usually treated Sanghoon for the past 20 something years: cold and ignorant. From your stool, you left your comfortable position to come face to face with this man. He better be grateful for that barrier in between you, or else you would’ve caused mayhem.

“Never in your wildest dreams, Mr. Lee.” Your mouth gave a half-smile, clenching on the bars to liberate your annoyance. Before you could fend back, that’s when Princess Diana intervened between your heated dialogue.

“Oh heavens, children!” She stood by the barrier, mostly to protect the newbie Jeno with her body. “(Y/N), he just wanted to know you. Must you be so cross?”

This Princess Diana embodied all the traits the real one had: soft-spoken, intelligent, and protective. She’s gotten so used to your gradual temper, staying on standby whenever anyone tried to mess with you. Even if it was harmless, you could get so mean!

“Diana, he was mocking me! Saying such a sleazy phrase as if to amuse me, ha! Not a chance, I hate people like that.”

“Not us women though; you just despise men in general.”

“And you’re absolutely right!” With a smug smile, you greedily rejoiced. “Anyways, escort this disgrace out. I’m not in the mood to get angry when I have a lot of inspiration on mind right now.”

While you resumed your sketching to let go of that extra steam, Jeno was left with Diana who apologized on your behalf. Your pride was too high to do that, and as the motherly figure among them, she always took care of things in your exhibit.

“I’m so sorry for that, Jeno. She’s not really like this, but I know how much you tried your best. It was quite a fresh spectacle honestly.”

Whatever was responsible for your abrasiveness, Jeno yearned to know. He couldn’t understand who you were yet even knowing your life story. All he wanted was to get along with everyone. It was the key to successfully maintain his job for the next 6 months.

“How can I make her come around then?”

A demanding question that no one had a solid answer to. Diana recalled how much Sanghoon didn’t let your dislike for him get to him, maintaining a respectful boundary in between each other after his past attempts. Though with Jeno, observing how he riled you up and your focus entirely on him, she hasn’t seen anything like it since the 80s.

There was something in Jeno that may just get you to warm up and return to your kind nature.

“Aside from acting playful, as Sanghoon recommended, I can think of two ways, love.” By the doors of her exhibit, where Jeno was already waltzing the corridor to visit other rooms, she suggested smartly. “One, argue back to her opinions. She hates whenever anyone tries to get her way, but boy, you’re just as wise as her. No one was brave enough to peeve on her until you came.”

“How about the second way?”

“Do your research, love. Aside from libraries, you have those small technology devices that allow you to search up anything.” She tousled Jeno’s brown locks as if it were her actual son’s. Some habits just don’t die when you do.

“Brush up on your history, Jeno. Not only will it help you with (Y/N), but it’ll serve purposefully with the other art pieces here.”

Boy, he was ready to crash in his bed for a few hours after all those interactions. His introverted nature required to be revitalized.

Towards the last hours of his shift, the art pieces who’ve strolled in the first floor lessened his plate by not leaving any major clutter behind. As if she listened to him, Athena didn’t break any lightbulbs too.

His main highlight would be meeting the men of the historical male section, who flaunted a more humorous ambiance. Freddie Mercury from Queen insisted he drink a glass of his wine and to bring more wine next time, which he denied since it would against Sanghoon’s rules. King Sejong the Great and Martin Luther King Jr. argued back and forth over the most random things (pineapple on pizza specifically), while Steve Jobs mediated whenever one crossed the line. Meanwhile, William Shakespeare was too preoccupied in his writing and speaking to himself about his books, wondering how to improve them.

During one of his breaks today, he multitasked drawing a new plate with his research on every art piece to know them better. He started with the exhibit of sculptures of the Greek gods and goddesses, which were Zeus, Hera, Hades, Athena, Hermes, Aphrodite, Poseidon, Artemis, Dionysus, and Circe. They weren’t the complete roster because the rest were in other museums across the globe, as said by Athena before sunrise. The majority of them he knew what they were in charge of, but the rest were foggy to his knowledge. Typing away and jotting notes down, he started downloading his favorite jazz songs too.

Rule # 4: Play jazz music to the paintings on the first floor so they can relax and dance within their frames.

Circe is a minor goddess, the daughter of the sun god Helios. She’s recognized for her versatility in incantations and herbs, capable of transforming people into animals. From Jeno’s perspective, she’s mostly within her space with her journals and magic wand, trying new spells or combinations of herbs. For the latter, he had to keep a closer eye on.

Rule #9: Don’t let Circe, god of potions, into the Oriental Room to get plants and herbs.

He discovered that Dionysus is the god of wine, happiness, and theatre. That’s why every god in the exhibit had full wine glasses during their gathering. It also added up why Freddie Mercury always comes to him when his bottles run empty, though he mustn’t go overboard.

Rule #18: Make sure Freddie Mercury doesn’t get too drunk from the wine of Dionysus; he might make numerous scenes if he does.

After his lone studying session, he took a short trip to the pet and convenience stores to buy food. He got a dumbfounded look from Jaemin back in the dorm room, who was studying for one of his quizzes in Biology in a couple of hours.

“Woah what’s with this stash? Is it for yourself or something?”

“The museum surprisingly has a lot of tasks needed to be done at night. And no, not from my wallet but the allowance they gave me before you get a heart attack.” Jeno plopped on his solo bed, covering his face with a pillow.

“Thank God.” A relaxed sigh escaped Jaemin’s lips, taking back his balled-up fists meant for his roommate. “I think I would’ve stormed that boring museum if they made your broke ass spend a cent.”

“Boring?” Jeno removed the cushion hastily, eyeing his busy and coffee-high roommate. The scent of black coffee from his mug spread in the room, assuming that this upcoming test was testing his roommate’s patience again.

Not even trying to look at Jeno while reviewing his handwritten notes, Jaemin continued giving his opinion. “Museum culture is dead, Jeno. Not everyone has the time to roam around one, plus people can always look up the artifacts online these days.”

People were entitled to their own opinions on numerous things, though Jeno begged to differ with his roommate’s. Especially after witnessing the magic of the night shift, you shouldn’t merely judge a book by its cover. In this case, you shouldn’t judge an artwork or art piece merely on its history and legacy.

Maybe because his roommate was in the science department, he thought this way. A lot of art students regularly visit the museum both for fun and for their classes, and Jeno was one of them. Though he was too sleepy to explain his side, he let it slide for now and snoozed throughout the late afternoon.

An hour before the start of his shift, Jeno promenaded the emptying museum to inspect anything else he might’ve missed out on from last night. There were two areas according to his rotation, both in the first floor.

One was the Diorama Room. Divided into 4 sections, highlighting some of the well-known ancient civilizations in world history. Ancient Egypt and Ancient China to your left, Ancient Rome and Ancient Maya to your right. They acted as if they were the actual people during those times, giving Jeno a laugh when they cracked jokes in between. Such tiny figures, yet the rule for them said otherwise.

Rule # 7: The small figurines in the Diorama Room are feisty, so make sure they don’t fight with one another again.

The remaining room left was the Theater Room. He’s never been here, though his art friends have for film festivals held by the university.

The interior of it was set to look like an actual cinema place you’d see in a mall. There was a mini lobby with a few posters of iconic films over the years. Singin’ in the Rain, Back to the Future, Titanic, those were some framed and hung on the wall. There were two other doors there: one leading to the chairs and the other where the movie projector was. The latter room was pretty riveting, wherein you can choose to watch old short films through an 88mm film projector or switch to a cd player for the newer releases.

Back to those posters, they weren’t an exception to the magic and a simple rule was left for Jeno to do.

Rule # 10: Chatter with the movie posters in the lobby of the Theater Room; they love meeting new faces.

Since there wasn’t anyone checking out the Art Rooms on the second floor, he closed them. Though as he was about to lock the Oriental Room, the ravishing plants around the royal plant appealed his interest. Said to hold magical properties from his research, Jeno was reminded of another rule to keep in mind for later.

Rule # 3: The fake flowers in the Oriental Room come to life too at night, so when no one is lurking, water it diligently.

Instead of lounging at Sanghoon’s office first, he brought his important items to the front desk of the lobby and continued sketching his plate. He wanted to watch the art come back alive with his two eyes. Usually, he’d have coffee when he does his work, but due to another crucial rule in the guide, he’d rather not take the risk.

Rule # 6: The lobby room can get rowdy, so keep any drinks away from important items.

On the dot, the cries and yawns from the art pieces around him reverberated. Closing his sketchpad, his night guard mode was on. Connecting his laptop on the aux cord of the museum speakers, he tapped play on his playlist of jazz music that’ll last for the entire shift duration. As the first notes flooded the entire vicinity, sounds of joy left the lips of each painting. Some were humming, dancing, and even singing along.

“You can never go wrong with Frank Sinatra!”

“This Jeno lad really did the heavens’ work quick!”

Having the sense of accomplishment on his sleeve, the small barks of his fluffy pal reached closer to him. As he kneeled to find him, he was only taken by surprise as Mochi excitedly jumped on him. Tumbling over, Jeno chuckled innocently as Mochi licked his face numerously. This puppy was friendly, easily liking everyone at first sight. He wasn’t as choosy like Daegal, the puppy of his friend Chenle studying Business Management.

Once he composed himself and cradling the dog like his own, he fed him a dog treat from the desk.

“Good boy, Mochi!” He rubbed his fur while the puppy happily munched on it, ready to fulfill more of his duties.

He skipped the Greek mythology exhibit since Athena was doing a good job not letting anyone go overboard with their powers, though he’ll check in again in a few hours. He met the posters of the theater room, who were celebrities he grew up watching on tv. Sanghoon was right; they were the kinder group in the entire museum because they were more laidback.

On to the second floor, all the female wax figures lounged by the male section due to another lecture from Shakespeare. Although the guide informed him that most of the time it could get boring, this lecture was more stimulating. On his platform, he elaborated with conviction the lines of one of his famous books, Romeo and Juliet. A must-read book back in his high school days, there’s no way Jeno could’ve missed that out.

From the looks of it, Jeno perceived that Shakespeare was performing spoken word poetry due to him reading only Romeo’s lines while Cleopatra read Juliet’s beside him. This kind of show was one of the sources of entertainment to these figures, so Jeno leaned by the side of the door to listen. After all, the famous author of it was a few feet away. Cleopatra channeled such a naïve character to her ability, absentmindedly saying as she clutched her chest.

“O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet.”

“Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?”

“'Tis but thy name that is my enemy; Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part belonging to a man. O, be some other name! What's in a name? That which we call a rose-”

The flow of an engaged Cleopatra was abrupted by the loud yell from Shakespeare in front, specifically to an amused Jeno. “Jeno, my boy! Welcome back!”

Such an announcement diverted everyone’s attention to the back, some running to Jeno to give their respective greetings. It’s rare for everyone to feel at ease with a new guard, taking them weeks to approach them due to the intimidation. Though Jeno’s bright presence felt welcoming, so they accepted it. Perhaps it’s because of his youth, it reminded them of theirs too.

Shakespeare highly requested (or forced) Jeno to take his part as Romeo, intrigued to watch someone younger read his lines. Since most of the male wax figures were aged, it never satisfied Shakespeare so he jumped on this opportunity as quickly as he could. With the roaring cheers from the other figures, Jeno might as well give it a try. It wasn’t like his friends were here to clown him like they usually would if he did something humiliating.

Jeno shockingly liked this activity as he wasn’t much of a performer on stage, but someone who does the behind-the-scenes of it. He realized as he read the lines from the book Shakespeare asked him to follow along with why people held university-wide spoken word shows a few times per semester. He was no actor, but it’s delightful to have tried it at least once in his life.

“O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?” As if the edge of the platform was the balcony of Juliet (or Cleopatra rather), he knelt as he ardently spoke his lines. He’s emphasizing this rush of uncontrollable desire for her, rambling whatever he would do to get the girl.

“What satisfaction canst thou have tonight?” Cleopatra questioned from her chair, inching closer to the young boy. Even outside character will she attempt to charm Jeno, but Jeno was quick to catch it and kept his distance.

“The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine.”

“I gave thee mine before thou didst request it, and yet I would it were to give again.”

“Wouldst thou withdraw it? For what purpose, love?”

“But to be frank, and give it thee again. And yet I wish but for the thing I have. My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep. The more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite.”

Everyone was condensed by their top-notch acting, as if this was the actual play unfolding before them. Jeno wasn’t so sure how he got himself in character without preparation, yet he felt what his character felt. He comprehended the material a lot better now than when he was still in high school.

However, there was always that one killjoy to ruin the heartfelt mood.

“How dumb is it to say that you’re in love after the first glance?” You opposed, putting the spotlight on you. This book was said to be a classic in literature, but as you matured physically and mentally, you could no longer agree with it. “Isn’t love the same thing that killed Romeo and Juliet in the end?”

Remembering what Princess Diana told him, he wasn’t going to let this pass. He wanted to give a piece of his mind too, caring less if the show must be paused. “Love is an emotion we don’t ask to feel. It’ll come to us when we least expect it, even when the timing of it can be crucial.”

“Of all the people Juliet could’ve gone for, it just had to be the enemy.” In all the years you’ve been brought to life, no one dared to test your opinions because they were aware of your intelligence, from the streets to the books. When someone bark, you’d bite back. Hard. “With all due respect, I love your works, Shakespeare. Yet the fate you’ve given these two at a young age was grave, could’ve you given them a better outcome or another character to love instead?”

“Giving them extra characters to love won’t address the horrific life fact that love can be dangerous. Regardless of what status you’re in, you can’t stop the attraction towards someone. The heart wants what it wants.” Jeno pressed his hand to his chest, pumping it a bit. Unknown to you and him, the audience found more entertainment in your argument. Anne, who was munching on the popcorn Jeno gave her earlier, passed the snack to Katherine who just couldn’t stop watching.

If this man wanted a challenge, you’re all ears. Who was he to compete with you? Was he not intelligent to know who you are?

“So are you insinuating that we just go with the flow? Be a slave to our emotions too and let them dictate our next motives?”

“Slave is such a strong word to use, (Y/N). But it’s not like we can’t choose who want to love because we actually can. In this case, Romeo chose Juliet and vice versa.”

“But what happens if the person you choose doesn’t choose you in return?”

“At least you tried your best, right? It’ll hurt like hell though, but it won’t last forever.” From his kneeling position, Jeno strutted his way with confidence. Trying not to let it mess with you, your extreme stare at him as if they’ll shoot lasers. Inches away from you, Jeno declared. “Love always has risks, that’s a given. Romeo and Juliet still tried and followed their hearts despite the downfall. But it was a needed downfall to get the message across.”

“No one would be that foolish to risk their lives for love though, right? Life is so precious, why would they do such a thing?”

“Even if they knew what their lives were without each other, they still preferred living a life where they were both in the picture. Therefore, they tried all they could that time because the regret of not doing anything at all carries a heavier burden.”

Whenever anyone argued with you, their debating points they spat back would further piss you off because most of the time, it never made sense. Back when this rude man told you to go home and be a wife in your earlier years of exploring, you civilly told him to fuck off, kicking his balls because he cornered you in an alley. For the first time, a man who tried to challenge you actually made sense. Was it because he lived in a modern time, where minds were more open? Because of the amount of sexism you faced in the past, you’ve turned a blind eye to the current period.

But your high pride maintained, not submitting into anything he said. “I still think it’s stupid to risk your life for love. There’s no such thing as having only one true love anyways, and you have to be alive to see it.”

“Fair point, but again, the feeling of regret and carrying it your entire life doesn’t fade easily. It’ll make you reflect on the what-ifs, and it’s heart-wrenching.” Jeno digressed, walking around you in circles. He’s intentionally trying to drive you mad, but he could care less. He wanted someone to put you in your place and open your mindset. “The question stands: would you rather try and go for it even knowing its risks or regret not even trying for the rest of your existence? Quite ironic for me to ask you that, don’t you think?”

Past the information board, Jeno researched more of your life history online. Your whole life was grounded on risks, from breaking the standards of your society, leaving your family and home country, to fending yourself from disrespectful men. Rather than living the original life expected from you, you chose not to because it didn’t make you happy. Such a risktaker he knew you are, but with the topic of love, he wondered why you were on a fence with it. Though some records stated you’ve had rendezvouses with a few men in your journeys, love was never in the equation. The single life was what you chose and you were more than satisfied, plus your adopted kids filled that supposed void anyways.

This man may have studied your history, but so much he still doesn’t know. Information that never made the books because you chose not to write or tell anyone about it. Aside from the discomfort growing in your chest, everyone else felt the awkward tension when you were lost for words.

Never been defeated in an argument, until tonight. Your mind lost its drive and willpower.

“Touché, Lee Jeno.” Indeed, his name you’re acquainted with. Numerously passed around in your exhibit, mostly from the lips of Cleopatra, who’d fantasize all the graphic things she would do to him. Too much information, least of your interest. “Please excuse me. I’d like to work on my sketches to ease my mind.”

As you quietly exited the room, an all too familiar sculpture leaned against the railings overseeing one side of the museum. Just like you, she hated accepting defeat or compromises. She always rooted for you to win. With a faint chuckle, “Facing a loss for the first time, I see.”

“Don’t even lecture me about it, Athena. I’m still fired up, and I need to relax.”

“Jeno is a different breed, isn’t he?” She stuck to your side, strolling wherever your feet led you.

“Different as in he’s a man? Yes. What else is there to it?”

“Men these days aren’t as trashy as those back in the day though. Shouldn’t you give him a chance?”

“Last time I did, it destroyed my heart. I’m not allowing myself to let men in even as a friend, Athena.”

She knew exactly what you were referring to, not touching on it further. No way will you let heartbreak or disappointment from men bother you. Even Sanghoon’s sweet company took a while to tolerate. You really needed to sketch this out on your pad right now, excusing yourself from Athena’s presence. Isolation wasn’t new to you; it’s what’s protecting your entire being. Immortal as you are, you had to recover from the past pain so the next decades won’t feel as brash.

You hoped to return to your old self when you were a fresh new figure in the 70s. So naïve, only proud of your accomplishments, and purely happy.

While Jeno continued to finish his scene in respect to Shakespeare, he received a standing ovation for his mini-show. Cleopatra didn’t expect such talent from him, growing fonder of the younger male. Whether she seduces him or not, he was never afraid to try new things and she liked that about him.

“Bravo, love!” Princess Diana praised, clapping at him.

Although Jeno appreciated all this positive attention, his thoughts bounced back to your and your stance on love. The debate earlier was just out of being playful, interested to hear your opinions. Though, he’s worried that he might’ve offended you. It may have been time to finally witness something like that, but then again, he was sure he touched something personal to you. No matter how you tried to fight it off, your eyes can’t lie. Staring down at him, there was pain beneath it. Your eyebrows scrunched to the center, thinking deeply yet remained utterly speechless.

A win he didn’t feel good about.

“It’s time she encountered something new in the years she’s been here. Give her some space tonight, then try again to reach out to her. Kindly this time; I’m not in the mood for another brawl that could end up like the Greek gods’ past fights downstairs.”

These clever words shared by Katherine loitered his mind for the rest of the night, eventually going back to finishing his current plate since everyone was behaving well. As great it is to get the approval of the majority, he tried brainstorming ways to make you like him too.

He understood the whole “men are trash” concept in today’s modern society, but if he could prove it wrong to at least one person, it would be you. Whatever is holding you back, he only hoped that you’d let it go. Questionably unsure as to why he was so persevering, he concluded that it was so he could perform his job better as the night guard. Set higher standards than Sanghoon even.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Weeks passed, and his attempts continued to be unsuccessful.

The capability for you to ignore his efforts remained strong, whether he was pestering you over small things or debating with you again about anything. Life, books, morals, the two of you always head butt each other. Anything good he did, you searched for a flaw in it. Whatever acts he’s tried and continued trying, not one flinch from you ever.

Even if that’s his state with you, his job no longer felt stressful nor strenuous. He’d try to sleep more on days he was off-duty. Although the fatigue of staying beyond his usual sleeping time was inevitable, he compromised to take a nap lasting an hour or two when the art pieces weren’t acting frisky.

Plus, there have been multiple times they adapted to any alterations so his physical well-being wouldn’t fall sick. Per order of Princess Diana and Hera, who by instinct became his motherly figures here, only wanting what’s best for the kids.

He became accustomed to everything that went on at night, discovering things on his own without Sanghoon’s guide. Anne talked about how much she missed biking in her neighborhood, so one night, Jeno snuck his bike inside and let her use it around the first floor. With proper monitoring so none of the paintings would be unbothered or pieces wouldn’t tumble.

Hermes the messenger god was fluent in every language possible, so every so often, Jeno would freely speak to him in Korean because sometimes he felt he could explode by the amount of English he used every night. Bilingual things, you know. He knew you were multilingual too, but for obvious reasons, he couldn’t converse with you.

Because Jeno was heavily favored, that should’ve been enough to push through his night shifts before the end of the semester. In addition to that, the hourly rate was above the average of whatever Jaemin or Renjun was earning. For the past 2 months, Jeno paid upfront first, even paying back all his debts. It almost made Renjun want to switch jobs with him.

“Trust me, Renjun. You don’t want it, being the lowkey scaredy cat you are.”

Work no longer felt like work, and that’s what everyone aspired to feel. Nevertheless, he tended to worry over you mid-shift, glancing at you from his side view. Sketching, reading, and writing were your default actions. No matter how many times he said to himself not to let your dislike for him affect him, it’d always backfire.

Why were you so cold?

What made you lose your fire from all the research he did about your lively personality?

When morning arrived and he gathered his stuff, you’d be the last thing he’ll check on. Frozen in your standing pose, smiling as you held a book and a pencil, he detected how fake it was. Bystanders would only assume your happiness was from your achievements, though Jeno’s gut firmly pried that something grand overpowered that happiness. And definitely, not in a good way.

Out of all the art pieces, he investigated on you the most. Skimming through every material in the library, endless searching on the net, even asking professors from the History department thanks to Renjun, he did whatever he could. People may already think he was obsessed with who you are, but only little did they know.

Another plate was done and submitted, and he promised himself to look you up one last time before surrendering. For someone who’s rarely given up on a challenge, this one was really out of his control. Maybe he should follow Sanghoon’s footsteps now.

You lived centuries before him, and there’s limited material of you left. Rather than learning of your adventures again, he dug through what things you liked over your life. Maybe by giving one of them, it’ll lessen the tension from a 100 to 99. Maybe you preferred gifts over words, he’ll never know until he tried.

Boom.

According to one of your journal entries, there’s a fond liking you’ve acquired for lavender roses from Benjamin and Liam when they visited you in Paris in secret because of how much you missed them. It went both ways, praying your family ties could be recovered.

It’s a good thing he needed to refill his stock of items for the art pieces so he could pass by the flower store a few blocks away from his dorm. That night, without further words, he graciously offered you a fresh lavender rose in between your new sketching session.

“I may not know exactly why you’re spiritless around me, but with this rose, I hope we could work something out.”

Your frigid face of disdain, keeping your chin high and squinting your eyes with judgment, began to crumble down.  Of all things as a peace offering, he gave you that? Then again, it’s not like he knew that an item you liked so much became something you’ve grown to hate and why so. No history books could teach him that.

Vulnerability was a normal thing, yet feared by many. Once one uncovered your weak spot, they could harm you. You still couldn’t trust Jeno fully, not willing to show your helplessness nor were you ever going to tell him. Hidden from his knowledge, everyone else including Sanghoon were familiarized as to why this kind of flower tormented you.

You sprinted like thunder out the exhibit room to wherever it’s private to control your senses. You may not have a physical heart, but your emotions were just as actual as a human’s. You needed to regulate your panting breath. In the past decades, you’ve not shed a singular tear but the cycle broke when they streamed out your miserable eyes like a flowing river. Quiet sobs, an empty corner near the fire exit was where your wobbly legs faltered, the painful memories of the past replayed in your head. Once beautiful, but now an agonizing reminder of what could’ve been.

Katherine, Cleopatra, and Anne were swift on their feet to hunt you down, anxious of what you may do next. Seeing or the mention of these flowers still affected you despairingly. Sanghoon must’ve forgotten to write them down, or perhaps he didn’t know either about this fact during all the years he’s worked there.

It’s one of the biggest secrets of his museum. By the clueless face Jeno had with his eyebrows raised, mouth, and small eyes slightly open, he repeatedly asked what he did wrong and adding that he never meant to harm you. Indeed, they knew that yet what occurred involved a secret in the list of museum secrets. Confidential only between art pieces according to Athena, none of the male wax figures spoke a word, only pitying the boy.

“I wasn’t here yet that time, but they said that it was once beautiful, but now it’s a rough period.” With hesitation, Princess Diana chose to reveal it to rid Jeno’s misery. She didn’t mind having to argue about it with Athena later on, as this may further affect the two of you later on.

“A long time ago in the early ‘80s, there was a night guard around your age named Junmyeon. Also, a college student, trying to make ends meet. He did it for 3 years until he graduated. Though within his stay, not only was he such a delight to everyone, he broke a golden rule in the guide. I believe you do know the guide much more now, Jeno?”

“Yes, I do, Princess Diana. Memorized it even, but which one specifically?” Jeno’s desperate eyes pleaded, only hoping for the best and to fix what he messed up.

“You can form friendships with the art pieces, but nothing more.” Princess Diana replied bitterly. “Junmyeon was an aspiring painter, a different path from his business-oriented family. He was seen as the black sheep. She resonated with him, sharing the burden and lifting it by doing whatever fun they could in the museum. In time, they both fell in love with each other; they were each other’s first loves.”

“Why must something beautiful like love be broken? It’s not like you can control it. That golden rule makes no sense.”

“It does, unfortunately. Wax figures like me cannot age, while humans like you can. None of them could accept the reality, always pushing it away. Until Junmyeon’s last week in university, he broke it off with her unexpectedly. From there, (Y/N) was heartbroken for decades. With heartbreak, giving the cold shoulder and bitterness followed. Then with the lavender rose you gave that she used to love became a flower that she associated with Junmyeon too because he gave her one almost every night for those past 3 years.”

Things finally added up, and the guilt in Jeno’s gut expanded. His major lightbulb moment was a major failure.

“Has Junmyeon ever returned to try and win her back?”

“Well, there was one time he did come back for an art exhibition for his paintings in the 2000s. I was already here, then he had a woman around his shoulder with an adolescent boy holding his hand. He roamed around our exhibit and kept gawking at (Y/N). We may be asleep, but we remember the conversations exchanged in the room. So, his son then asked him if he knew who she was.”

“What did he respond?” Jeno attentively listened, on the edge of such a hurtful tale.

“He knew her name, praising her for historical achievements. However, nothing as a former friend or lover. From what I predict, he ingested one of Circe’s potions.”

“But I thought Circe isn’t allowed to make potions for actual consumption. She’s not even allowed to enter the Oriental Art Room.” Jeno pointed out, overwhelmed at the puzzling past. Princess Diana was mindful that she had to stop spreading too much information, so she had to end her discussion with the lost boy.

“There are a lot of secrets about this museum, Jeno. Unfortunately, I cannot reveal to you to protect our peace.”

With due respect, Jeno quit his follow-up questions and concerns. The only thing he wished to do was mend his relationship with you. As vague as to where you even stood in the first place, he unintentionally crossed a line due to his selfish intention to befriend you.

“What can I do now, Princess Diana? You know I’d never push her buttons like that, even if I’m a whimsical person.”

“Oh, my boy.” Princess Diana soothed, holding both her hand on his sweaty palm and cupping his cheek. “For the meantime, give her space. No taunting for a while, and just observe her from a distance. Though do not fret the slightest; I’m sure she’ll be okay again.”

During that interval, you were hunched on the wall, bawling and weeping like the wound was brand new again. While Katherine and Anne stood by your side, on the lookout for anyone who’d be spying on you, Cleopatra knelt in front of you as your infinite tears gushed down.

“My dear,” She tried to wipe some of them while holding your hand. “It’s been years, and Jeno didn’t know a single thing. He didn’t mean to do it.”

“I don’t care, Cleopatra! He should’ve stopped trying to socialize with me because I won’t ever live down my experience with Junmyeon.”

“As if crying like this will bring Junmyeon back to your life,” Cleopatra exclaimed, holding in her temper. Acquainted with heartbreak, it’s awful that it changed you entirely, but you should’ve found a way to heal. Throughout your attitude change, it’s mostly you in pain, not those you inflict it to. “My dear, I love you a lot. But this Jeno boy is different, and you know it.”

“He’s still a nightguard, for Christ’s sake, Cleopatra.”

“You shouldn’t generalize that all night guards are bad just because of one encounter that occurred at the wrong time.” Brushing some strands stuck by your wet visage, she professed to you bluntly. “You’re never going to know how good Jeno is unless you slowly open up again, (Y/N). Not forcing you the slightest, but healing started once you’ve acknowledged the past and move on from it.”

“But I’m scared, Cleopatra.” You restlessly admitted, hunching even more against the wall. Your poor, metaphorical heart could only take so much. You barely expressed sorrow towards others as you always held a strong exterior, only letting it out alone. Not holding back anymore, Cleopatra brought you in for a hug. The last time she did that was the first night after Junmyeon left, calming your intensified emotions so you wouldn’t do anything dumb that night. No violence, just pure sorrow.

“My dear, it’s alright.” She whispered while stroking your back upwards. “But you’re a risktaker; that’s how people remember you. Now, you must challenge yourself to move on from things that didn’t work out. Because once you do, it’ll put your heart and mind at ease.”

“Do you think I’ll be okay again?”

“Yes, you will be, my dear. You are not alone, and never will be.”

Acting like the dutiful son he always was, Jeno distanced from you.

He still cracked jokes, chatted with the art pieces, and followed the rules, yet never did he utter anything to you. You’ve proudly anticipated it since day one, not wanting him up in your business or teasing you ever. But this time, it felt odd.

On nights he didn’t report, you’ve unconsciously wondered what he may have been up to. A job like this at his age was just as Sanghoon once said: nothing in the regular.

Was he with his friends?

Was he resting well?

From the moment you chose to let go of your limitations and old thoughts, it included your grudge against past guards. Asking for forgiveness to Sanghoon when he returns was on the top of your list, however, that’ll take a while to happen. In the start, you’re baffled as to why he no longer picked on you like every night he’s been present. Somehow, it became a habit you’ve gotten used to, having so many comebacks planned to fend yourself. But you didn’t want to concede to it, maintaining what was left of your pride since that breakdown.

While on the subject, you suspected if anyone told him anything that night because that also indicated the last time he reached out to you. By anything, it would be your unwritten past with Junmyeon. A part of yourself in the museum that you didn’t want to disperse like rapid-fire again. It would be the last thing you wanted Jeno to know.

To your misfortune, Princess Diana came clean due to your growing concern over it. Although your attitude changed and people got used to it, you could only blame yourself that you were responsible for Jeno’s change.

“All he wanted was to understand and enlighten us with his likable presence. Then with you, you were his challenge because of your high walls. Out of everyone, he tried to learn everything about you. From my observation, whenever he has a goal, he’s determined to achieve it.”

“But I’m trying to be better now, Diana. Why did he stop?”

“He may have determination, but he knows where the boundaries lie.” Princess Diana patted the side of your arm, giving you a half-grin. “It hurt him when he hurt you, even if it was accidental. So he opted to give you space; that way, you could catch a breather and he wouldn’t harm you anymore. It was what you wanted from the start anyways, right?”

A hard pill to swallow, though it was a fact. It’s just that now, you’re slowly willing to release yourself from the dark. It’s been decades, and more to come. Nothing can move on unless you do.

“Where is he, Princess Diana?”

Just as she predicted right on the edge, Diana completed the grin on her face and led you to the entrance of your exhibit. She may be younger than you, but you’re reverted in your twenties while she remained in her mid-thirties. Gaping the wide museum from the railing, starting from the painting exhibit in the lobby to across the other side of the museum, Diana spotted the black hair of the boy in the Foreign Art Room.

“Over there.”

Observing where her eyes focused, you caught a glimpse of a recognizable side profile. The owner’s eyes were completely taken by whatever he was drawing on the fold-up desk he brought out from the storage room. By the tedious action of his right hand going up and down, you’ve gotten so used to his part-time identity as the night guard to entirely dismiss his current status as a university student.

Architecture specifically as he first introduced himself to you. The same path your oldest brother, Christopher, worked in. The look of tenacity Jeno presented as his eyebrows continuously scrunched, his crescent orbs hastily spied his work for any unnecessary details and his veiny hands brushed his already messy hair, you were profoundly reminded of Christopher when he was designing his possible future house. You were 8 years old, and he was 22, who just got married. He explained how many floors it’ll have, what rooms to put and what extra furniture he’ll place to make it feel more at home.

Seeing how exceptional his art skills were, you started to sketch like him. With flowers first, it turned into bedrooms and sceneries of your neighborhood. You felt your shoulders rise in accomplishment when you were able to accurately draw people. As much as you credited Benjamin and Liam the most in your works, it’ll only be within yourself to know that you also held a soft spot for Christopher.

Excusing yourself to Princess Diana, you bravely yet quietly ventured into the Foreign Art Room. Hiding first from one of the cement columns, you resumed watching him sketch. Instead of a pencil, he used a black pen with a tip as thin as a pencil. Your assumptions would be it was for a class, basing it on him informing everybody earlier that he’ll be inactive for the remaining hours of his shift to focus on his midterm requirements. That must be difficult to balance, yet he still does everything expected from him. Maybe the second cup of iced coffee beside him stimulated his bones and mind, letting his imagination free.

Through the limited space, you tiptoed whilst holding the side of the column to make up his work. There were 2 and a half rectangular shapes stacked on top of each other, the third one he was still tracing. A sign encrypted with tiny written words you couldn’t decipher, the beauty and modernity of Jeno’s plate cannot go unappreciated.

“That’s absolutely beautiful.”

Sweet words you didn’t think would bounce back in the room, Jeno’s pace ceased whilst you hid again. Art pieces capable of walking weren’t allowed here, he locked the door even beforehand! Or he thought as he was rushing to get his work done because one of his terror professors moved up the deadline to tomorrow morning. Not even 25% finished, he petitioned for everyone’s cooperation just for tonight.

He used up his 2 days of not having the night shift for other projects, and not wanting to ruin his perfect attendance, he proceeded to show up.

The voices from the foreign paintings around him hushed for him out of respect. So possibly someone snuck in, his head looking around for intruders. But only did he quit it when he saw your blurry reflection leaning against the column. The glass windows slightly mirror back what it sees, without you knowing that.

Not to mention, the small bit of your lilac dress was left out. Of all people, it was you?

“Do my eyes deceive me or is Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N) inside when she’s not allowed so?”

To break the killing tension, he tested the waves with an innocent taunt. Never did you reach out to him, so least to say he was entertained whilst keeping his distance.

Fixing your proud stance, you responded in a low baritone voice you used to persuade numerous men in her adventures. “Uhm no, I don’t know who she is.”

As intelligent as you were, Jeno was a few steps farther than you this time. Educated about the risky ways you’d get around and one of them was changing the pitch of your voice, he heartily laughed at your unsuccessful attempt.

“Okay don’t lie, (Y/N). I can see a trail of your dress and your cloak. Oh, your reflection too.”

Damn, you peeked a little to realize that he was correct. Hauling your dress back in to readjust your outfit, you pushed your hair back before appearing to him. Though when you did such, you didn’t suppose that he was practically beside you the entire time. Bumping into his towering stance of 5’10 while the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up, your proud posture loosened up. He even discarded his blazer. A few more inches, he could’ve cornered you on the column if you didn’t take another step back.

Has he always been this tall or were you so used to your boots having high heels under? Oh wait, maybe because you wore flats this time because it’s making your toes sore. Your head bowed from struggling to maintain eye contact with him, your palms caressing your cheeks that suddenly heated up. Clearing your throat, you straightened your back again like nothing happened.

Jeno thought otherwise, shrugging his shoulders as he chuckled. He’s never seen you get shy, not that it was a bad thing either. The temptation to play around it more was there, but he was running out of time for his assignment.

“Come in. I’ll let you off the hook this time.” His arms opened up, allowing you access to such a wonderful exhibit. Paintings from different European periods, miniature versions of famous infrastructures inside glass containers, and replicas of Greek columns in the front entrance, no wonder it’s important to protect them all.

“Are you sure?” Watching him return to his spot, which was a bench in the center of the exhibit with a table in front, it didn’t process that you were gawking at his toned back. His broad shoulders and the evident muscles in his arms while he stretched, your eyes were speedy to look away when he tried to take a glance at you.

“I don’t think the paintings here and I mind.” Sitting down again, he tapped the vacant space beside him. “Feel free to watch me draw if you want to.”

Settling by his side, he recommenced where he left off. Now with a closer view of his piece, it did look like a building as you thought. He was sketching the remaining outline of the 3rd floor of this hypothetical place, continuously checking his ruler to monitor if the lines were consistent. Able to pick up on the words of the sign beside the building, you wowed with one hand on your lips.

“You’re redrawing Seoul National University Museum of Art?”

“One of my plate assignments was to visualize a renovation of a certain place, so I chose the museum.”

“Why so?”

“Well,” Jeno shook his pen so the ink could come out. “This entire place comes to life with the royal plate, so I think we should expand the space and bring in more art pieces to life if we add another extra floor. A rooftop area for visitors and events would be fun. And definitely, we should modernize the exterior and interior a bit because it looks outdated personally. That’s also what my friends think too.”

Noticing the minor details of his plate whilst removing any unnecessary pens so it wouldn’t smudge, “Huh, I quite agree with you.”

For the first time since his night shift, you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), came into an agreement with him. He became so accustomed to clashing opinions that now, you had no contrasting points to make at all. A good change perhaps was what he’s witnessing.

“Woah, who are you agreeing with me and where’s (Y/N)?” He creased his brows whilst locking eye contact with you. This time, you didn’t wince away and just nudged him on his shoulder to get back to work.

“Hush, Jeno. Isn’t that due later? Get to work, I’ll roam around here for the meantime.”

After decades in this museum, you’re enlightened with the foreign paintings in which some you’ve heard of in your younger years and some that were created beyond your time. The Birth of Venus, Liberty Leading the People, Girl with a Pearl Earring, there’s an advantage of learning about their stories that humans couldn’t interpret. Logical that this section must be off-limits because these pieces were extra special, yet there’s so much more than what meets the eye.

There’s peace in silence while you wandered around, though it doesn’t hinder only at the art. Jeno hasn’t uttered a word since he got back to drawing, and once you asked him what’s doing now, still no answer back. Odd, he’s constantly awa-

Oh, my. You must’ve jinxed it.

Your eyes laid on Jeno leaning forward on his desk with his arms serving as his pillow, resting his head sideways. Soft snores and minimal movement in his upper body to shake the growing cold temperature of the room, he was sleeping like a log.

Putting into perspective, he hasn’t acquired enough rest specifically this past 2 weeks. The endless number of plates due making him work extra during his shift rather than sleeping in the slightest, exhaustion must be an understatement. Coffee no longer pushed him to his maximum for this week even.

But this was the path he chose, and it’ll have its challenges. Still, if you could relieve the stress in any way, you would. This would be one of the ways to repay for all the rudeness you’ve passed on him. Scurrying to his side, placing the plate on the side with his other things. You returned the caps of his open pens so they don’t spill. They must be expensive, recalling how Jeno shared the cons of being an architecture major to Princess Diana. One was the pens needed for sketching, and any tiny damages to them meant buying them again.

With his watch on clear display, he only had 2 hours left until his shift was done. Then, 4 hours until his plate assignment was done, and his current plate was far from done.

The blunt impulse to wake him up slithered your mind, though his calm state deflected your duty. As if you were on board a ship again for your explorations, you paid attention to the view with a relaxed mindset.

Lee Jeno specifically was the view.

His coffee-stained lips were parted and his sharp nose breathing in and out at a relaxing pace, he must be dreaming a happy moment the way half his lips curved into a smile. If he’s resting well, then you too would be calm.

Because of your past disinterest in him, only at this moment did you observe how sharp his jawline was and the cuts on his arms he sought refuge in. No matter how many times you tried to deny Hera’s compliments of him on the side, you couldn’t.

Lee Jeno embodied attractive features; both physical and emotional.

Back to his plate, it’ll put him at a disadvantage if he submitted the way it looked before he passed out. But you remembered all those extra details he mentioned and wanted to add to this project. Being an explorer, you documented all your ventures through words or drawings. You’re fast to adjust to anything new too.

For all the good he’s done for everyone, he only deserved some help in return.

Your version of help was sketching the remaining details of this plate, using other pens for more emphasis. It’s a risk also, but no way could you turn a blind eye on Jeno this time.

Around 5:30 am, Jeno’s eyes blinked open due to a brightening light from the outside. Stretching his limbs, he finds a velvet cloak wrapped around him like a blanket. But before he could question it, he pulled his arm in to see the time on his watch.

“Fuck!” He cursed, realizing that his so-called 10-minute snooze break aborted.

“Oh my, you’re awake!” From his frazzled state, there you were. So put together yet active, some strands of your hair falling down your face even with your hair up in a ponytail. “How was your sleep?”

This whole time he could’ve been woken up, yet you chose not to. You’re aware of his deadline, yet you let him rest entirely. He could’ve burst out in stress, yet he didn’t. You and he may have started on the wrong foot, yet it’s impossible of you to do such an evil thing. He’ll just have to tolerate the outcome later today.

“Refreshing. I really needed it.” Packing his things in his bag and closing the table, you trailed along as he exited with you. Locking up, he has 30 minutes left to accomplish the cleaning. A long good morning indeed.

But his worry of that vanished when you admitted that you had it all covered.

“Everyone helped out in cleaning, plus there are no damages made either.” From your hand, you returned one of his keys that was on his guard blazer. “I double-checked the Oriental Room and locked the doors again.”

“Why are you suddenly so nice to me, (Y/N)?” He questioned with confusion, wearing his blazer again and patting away any creases. He placed your cloak over you again like a true gentleman.

Without a word, you simply invited him to walk you back to your exhibit as parts of the sun began to rise. As you returned to your section, your fellow figures readying themselves to pose again,

“It’s my way to apologize for my very rude first impression and the succeeding moments after. I was too cooped up in my past that I was too afraid to let humans in again, night guards in particular.” You admitted, removing your cloak and placing behind your chair like always. “I’m so sorry, Jeno. Everyone was right about you and your kind heart.”

“About time.” Cleopatra’s sultry voice cut in, laying on her day bed.

Before you had the chance to flip off, Jeno mediated swiftly. With a gentle smile, “No worries about it. I’m just happy you’re okay, after all you’ve been through.”

“Can we start over then?”

“Absolutely.” With his free hand, he brought it out. No matter what kind of introductions, shaking one’s hand was the best way to start a friendship. “Good evening. I’m Lee Jeno, the new museum night guard.”

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), explorer and author.” Sighing at his humor, you still replied by shaking his hand. “And I believe you’re mistaken, Lee Jeno. It’s a good morning.”

Seconds after, you imitated your typical pose and smile. Only now, the latter was more genuine. Finally, a fresh start to end your agony.

Once the sun fully revealed itself, every figure including yourself froze back to sleep. Something Jeno wished to catch up on if it weren’t for his damn plate. He was so screwed, already contemplating his next steps if he does fail this class. The possibility of getting delayed in all aspects, he dreaded it already.

Heading back to his dorm, where both his roommates completely passed out from soju on the couch, he sat by his work desk and turned on his night lamp for more light since the sun wasn’t strong enough yet.

With another cup of coffee, he cracked the joints of his knuckles and laid out his pens. He had 2 hours left to submit this plate, and at most he should accomplish 50% of his initial plan. However, he didn’t anticipate such a gorgeous outcome when he brought out his plate.

Picture perfect of every detail he desired, even adding a rooftop area with that he’d love to have if ever the museum does go under renovation one day. Rather than setting the plate during the day, it was at night as the skies were dark and bright specks of yellow inside the building symbolized light.

So much for wasting coffee, he’ll just give it to Jaemin when he wakes up later. Below the final product, a note written in cursive was stuck on it.

 I knew you wanted to get this specific plate done, but you mustn’t compromise your sleep for it. It’s your inhumane professor’s fault!

To make up for my faults, I wanted to help you out. I paid extra attention to the details you spoke highly about, so I only hoped that I interpreted it correctly. It’s risky, but as someone who researched so much about me, would you be surprised that I did such a thing?

PS: Get back to sleep. I’m quite sure your desk is laid out the same way in the Foreign Art Room.

Respectfully,

(Y/N)

 Turning off his lamp, Jeno jumped the covers of his bed to continue his lost sleep. Without an ounce of care that he hasn’t changed into cleaner clothes, he’s relieved that he won’t flunk his class.

Most of all, he’s relieved that you’ve melted the ice in you and allowed kindness to come in. Jeno may never understand how hard that must’ve been for you, yet he raved you for it.

“Oh, (Y/N) (Y/L/N). Surprise is an understatement when it comes to you.”

[oh-for-fic-sake]

Will Of The God’s Chapter One

Masterlist found in ficlets/short fics

Summary: All is not well in Olympus; the king of the gods has grown weary of his cold distant wife who seeks to punish him for his infidelity. But two thousand years have passed and Zeus has finally had enough. If Hera doesn’t want to be his wife or warm his bed then he will seek out a replacement. A mortal who will entertain him. It’s time to test the mettle of these millennials. Time to make this modern mortal feel the will of the gods she’s so interested in.

Warnings: Adult Situations, +18 only no minors, Implied rape, Implied slavery, Implied Sex/sexual violence, Dark Fic, Dark! Geralt Zeus, AU Greek Gods, Swearing, Violence, Anxiety, Angst, Sexist Themes, Obsessive Character, Power Abuse, Stalking, Assault.

THIS IS DARK! BASED ON THE ZEUS FROM  ACTUALL MYTHOLOGY NOT CARTOON PORTRAYLS. IF YOU DON’T LIKE DARK SEXUAL THEMES OR STALKER/KIDNAP THEMES DO NOT PROCEED!!

A/N: so, I challenged myself here, I wanted to do another Greek god AU but in our time, so its god au but not as you know it? I mean it was difficult but I’m pleased with it. There is once again quite a few references to various mythology and Greek symbolism. This chapter more sets the scene , there is not actually smut in this one but I hope you all like it anyway.

Zeus let out a long sigh as he sat on the steps of his Olympus palace his bare feet hanging over the sheer drop that led straight down to the mortal realm. He peered over the edge honing his vision watching as the little mortals scuttled about rushing to and fro, their huge flying contraptions interrupting his clear view now and then. Time had become a commodity, in the past two centuries the humans world had become a completely different place. Electricity, transport the internet! Everything about their way of life was convenient, they thought themselves gods! Masters of their own fate. He scoffed, they had forgotten much yet still visited the shrines and paid homage so he couldn't complain, he actually received worship and prayer from outside his own kingdom. Wandering humans, they called themselves tourists. Zeus called them lost.

They arrived in groups took photographs; illustrations, made childish comments about the anatomy on the statues and left giggling and happy. As technology took hold, he avoided visiting fair maidens on earth, he thought it unwise to let the humans of present see his godly form. They wouldn’t be able to stand it, it would ruin them. Just as Ares influence had ruined them.

Or perhaps it was Pandora's doing? He huffed a laugh to himself. Yes, that had been fun. Cursing the poor child with a thirst for knowledge then teaseing her with the box. He knew it was a temptation too far and she'd eventually open it realising all that darkness. He hummed leaning further crouching resting he crossed arms on his knees. Yes, it was probably the darkness of the box that seeped into man, war was inevitable. The god king couldn’t blame his son- Ares may be the god of war but war had been a product of humans. It wasn’t the boys fault the humans tore one another to pieces and made the war god more and more powerful.

Zeus sneered, lip curling up in irritation. The boy best not get too big for his boots though. There was only room for one king of the gods and he'd protect his place on the top no matter what. He had rid himself of his father, the titans hades was less of a threat now that he was happily ruling the underworld with his mortal. Zeus had even devoured his first wife Metis to keep their child from growing and overpowering him. Zeus had nothing against removing Ares should he become a threat, Artemis too.

He sighed again flicking his feet. Since backing away from humanity Olympus had become very boring, he only had his wife to amuse himself. And she was not amused a single bit by the way he pursued her now, settling for her because he had no other options. Hera, he had realised held grudges and was still annoyed about all his dalliances refusing to lie with him, they didn’t even share bed chambers anymore! Not that it stopped him. When he wanted her, he took her, she was his wife and will serve him as he wanted whether willing or otherwise.

Yet even those releases were no longer satisfying him. She no longer snipped or fought, instead laying there motionless letting him possess her as he wished. Apart from that he never saw her, she wallowed in her rooms haunting them like a bound spirit. Zeus was toying with the idea of putting her out of her misery, or atleast banishing her to the underworld for hades to deal with.

If his wife no longer satisfied his need what good was, she? Why should he keep her and put up with all the nonsensical pouting, he made her a queen wasn’t that enough for her?

Alas he had not yet dealt with her, Zeus just didn’t have the energy to smite the bitter goddess. Even though he was bored, he just wanted some spice! Grit! He wanted the thrill of the chase and some resistance; he needed to seduce and corrupt. He needed a new conquest. A new consort. A fiery one at that, and he was beginning to realise he would not find that on Olympus.

He stared longingly into the mortal realm. He wanted one. He wanted a pet to ravish and toy with, to gift his seed and force another demigod into existence. He needed something to occupy himself with. But it had been soo long, none would belive him if he did go and announce himself and it wasn’t like he could bring one home-

Zeus paused every muscle in his body stiffening. That was a thought. Capturing and taming a feisty human? There was no doubt it was possible for him to do it. He was Zeus! King of the gods, all powerful! If mortals could be bound to the underworld, then they could be bound to Olympus, to him. He would have to bestow eternal youth and if they were a good obedient pet and kept him entertained, he'd consider giving them true immortality.

With a devilish grin he rose standing tall amber eyes locking on the temple that was full of these lost humans. His grin grew wider and cock twitched. A fresh little quim to ravage sounded like the perfect distraction. Without even taking a moment to pause he leapt from the stairs into the free fall and transformed into his Eagle diving down plummeting to earth with only one goal in mind.

Find a fiery woman with a deep cunt to steal.

♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈

You moved with the group leaving the pantheon and you were thankful for it. As amazing as this trip was you may have underestimated just how hot Greece got in the middle of the summer. A little too hot for a tiny brit like yourself, but despite the brutal heat you were enjoying the trip of a lifetime.

You huffed sitting in the shade dragging your water bottle from you bag. Ugh warm. The reusable ice stick worked at home in the 28°c summer but here didn’t do diddly squat. Still, you sipped the strawberry flavoured water only cringing slightly as the warm fruity taste resembled unsweetened fruit tea rather than a refreshing drink. You cast a glance over the small tour group you'd came with. Most were couples, the odd honeymooning newlyweds the rest younger. You wouldn’t be surprized if this trip was the grandiose engagement trip. They looked like they came from money and could afford to come out here and pop the question. You scoffed, even the oap's were all loved up out here.

You saw the appeal, Greece was beautiful. A paradise and any romantic couple would appreciate the seductive air of the country. Stunning vistas and a history chock full of sexual myths and tales. The art on every street corner reminding you of the ancient provocative tales. You wasn’t bitter per say, or you hadn’t been but the stares from the group had irked you. All eyeing you pitifully as if you were some poor lonely spinster just because you were here alone.

You were here for some inspiration! You should have thought through your latest book idea before suggesting it to your agent. The idea of the ancient gods having mortal vessels whose job was to bring about the age of gods and demigods again. Yes, it'd been a unique idea, brilliant all the while it was rolling off your tongue in a last ditch attempt for some extra income. Then when your publisher decided to go for it you realised you hadn’t known as much as you thought and had to tread carefully. Warning of  'this is people's culture you have to be mindful' finally bringing home the seriousness of your little book idea.

So here you were, out in Greece to experience the ruins firsthand. To immerse yourself in mythology and lore so you don’t offend anyone and get a fucking lawsuit thrown at you. You swallowed a few more mouthfuls of your drink determined to fend off dehydration, then pulled out the small leather note pad.

You quickly began jotting down a few lines, thoughts and observations as you were here in the moment. The pen scratching across the page and scribbling a few doodles from the scenery. Then growled as you heard the tell-tale whispers from some of the others in your group. Pitying words of the lone singleton in Greece. You rolled your eyes quickly casting a look and low behold it the American was stealing glances at you again. Stefany whispering to her new husband about you always having your nose in your 'journal'. You sighed shaking your head before turning back to your work. Morons.

The trip itself was amazing, but the bozo's you were with were all terribly annoying. It probably didn’t help that they were all talking out their asses. Only yesterday did you finally shut the clueless woman up after a week of listening to her try to explain Greek mythology to you- who had been reading up on it before even stepping onto the plane. No Stefany hades is not Satan nor can you simplify him as 'the devil' you uneducated fuck knuckle!

Okay so you didn’t out right call her a fuck knuckle but you could have. She irritated you and you couldn’t wait for her to leave! You were out here for three months so thankfully wouldn’t have to endure her for the whole trip. But until then you had decided to keep as much distance as you could between you and her... and the group as a whole. You wasn’t here for a jolly or to make friends, you were here for work and some vitamin D because apparently your too pale.

There was a ripple of awe suddenly as everyone moved into a crowd as some gimmicky show began. You didn’t bother moving, it was too hot and you really couldn’t be bothered besides you saw it last week when you were here the first time... and the second, you don’t think you could stand a third.

You leant back on your hands looking up to the top of the Parthenon tipping your head back to peak at the top. It was awe inspiring, you knew from previous research that the columns would have been inlaid with gold and jewels even some glass. The Greeks had the right of it, making stunning buildings that shimmered in the glorious sunup here. Shame it was all left to ruin, but then again it was what? 2000 years old? So, it wasn’t doing too bad for its age.

You looked up to the sky still determined to drown out the god-awful tourist show that drew the masses. I mean if they were going to put on a show atleast do it in the Dionysus theatre. You know where shows belonged?

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You scoffed and then squinted as something appeared seemingly out of thin air. You followed the spec frowning as the tiny dot moved gracefully. You concentrated on it only to hiss and close your eyes as whatever it was darted in front of the sun, you rubbed your eyes and then quickly shielded them from the sun searching to the spec. Was that an Eagle? You swore to yourself tipping your head, you were no expert bird watcher but that was a pretty big tweedy pie. Your eyes followed the bird watching it glide in circles over the ruin. You eyed it curiously, as it perched ontop of the temple ruin, it turned its head to the side eyeing the media circus ruffling its feathers in what appeared to be displeasure.

"Not impressed huh Zeus?" You asked chuckling to yourself at the little joke. You froze as the bird twisted cocking its head around and looked in your direction instantly, pinning you with a look as if it had heard you. It turned faceing you fully smoothing its feathers down and stared.

It unnerved you the way the bird held your gaze intelligently. Tilting its head again one beady eye appraising you. For a moment you thought it was going to swoop down and try its luck and steal your bag or something, like the monkeys did in other countries... Did Athens have a scavenging eagle problem? There wasn’t anything in the brochure but you doubted those issues would be. Being dive bombed by huge Dino-bird didn’t sound appealing.

You stared at the bird deciding to slowly reach for your phone to snap a picture, the coincidence of 'Zeus' bird eyeing you after your jest wasn't lost on you, it'd be funnier had this happened at the big man’s temple. You lifted your phone focusing on the bird only for into take off and disappear out of sight. 'Fucking thing!' You cursed under your breath again missing the chance of yet another cool photo. You really were shit at this whole tourist gig.

"They rarely stay for a photo" you yelped all but jumping out of your skin at the purr from beside you. You slapped your phone to your thigh as you almost dropped it. And craned your head up to see a huge man. Bigger than any you’d ever seen! He must have been 6'3 6'4 with wide shoulders barrelled chest and slim waist, the epitome of a Dorito physique. You frowned but spoke not wanting to be impolite.

"I noticed" you spoke, voice uncertain you were wary. He was giant and had somehow snuck up on you? You wasn’t a super aware person, but it was rare for someone to get so close without you noticing... especially someone soo large.

"So, did I. You’d rather bird watch then see the little... dance? Is that dancing? I'm unsure" he drawled casting a severe look to the show brows furrowing giving him a fierce unforgiving look. Dark. Too dark. But as quickly as it was there the offended look vanished and he brought his gaze back to you.

"Yeah, well I didn’t trudge all the way up that steep hill for the birds, but a huge ass eagle buzzing about the Parthenon? That’s more Greek culture than whatever the hell that is?" You said tearing your gaze away to nod to the show? dance? Pantomime? You wasn’t sure. But it only took moments to look back at the male before you, you couldn’t help staring at him. You tried not to but? Something about him was off, making your skin prickle. It wasn’t just the terrible silver dye job on the long shoulder length hair or the equally shitty creepy contact lenses but he was wearing black, in this heat? Like it was nothing! And even if he was used to this climate wouldn’t he be tanned? He didn’t look like a tourist yet he was pale overall he was odd. Too odd.

"Then you know of Zeus?" He purred tilting his head to the side fighting a smile, he seemed cocky like he was laughing at you but there was more to it. It got your goat.

"Who doesn't? The dude was the biggest scariest fuck boi of the ancient world" you snipped crossing your arms feeling more irritated by his presence more than anything. You couldn’t help feel smug as he faltered grunting, a twitch of his lip giving you the small victory you needed to feel more in control of the situation.

"Well, I wouldn't word it like that but he's... insatiable" the man purred eyes becoming dazed, a far off look in the amber orbs wide tongue wetting his lip comeing back to his senses eyeing you up and down like meat. Your confidence dropped and you got the feeling you were in danger, but even as the fear doused  every bone in your body with its icy grip you snapped back. Feeling like a wild animal being slowly backed into a corner.

"That’s a pretty strange way to say sexual predator but okay" you said with a dull tone. The strangers face fell his jaw locked for a moment the frightening rage crossed his features again, nostrils flaring only to relax once more into a frankly disturbing smile. He looked cunning; you didn’t like it at all. This man wasn’t normal. There was too much of? Something?!

He gave you the creeps, it was probably just the freaky combination of orange eyes and silver hair but you just needed to get away from him. Now. You rose from the ground pressing your phone in your hand tightly and began gathering your little notebook and drink bottle. You just had the need to merge with the crowd and disappear. A safety in numbers deal.

"Your making notes? Are you a scholar?" He said stepping closer than you would have liked, towering over you making your draw in a deep fearful breath. The dread you felt now a deep terror in your bones willing you to run and hide. But somehow you couldn’t help thinking it would do no good.

"No, far from it, just... documenting the trip myths and legends and all that" you hinted trying to give just enough information to satisfy his curiosity and stop the conversation all together so you could haul ass out of there.

"Would you like help? I’m knowledgeable" he hummed staring through you, the golden eyes were unsettling , your pretty sure he hadn't blinked once since popping up at out god knows where.

"No, your alright-" you stepped back almost slipping over a block you hadn’t known was there. In fact, you were certain it hadn’t been, your ass had just been on the dirt moments ago!

"Carful wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself... there we go little woman" he was quick to grasp you, stopping you from tumbling to the ground by holding you close, your breasts almost brushing his abdomen. Your body shivered as his hands touched you, the absolute horror was like nothing you'd never felt. Your need to run and hide becoming more a terror fuelled escape, you wanted to bolt like a spooked horse. Before you could cuss him out and remind him to keep his mitts to himself, he spoke again.

"Ask me anything, I have all the answers you could dream- stories you couldn’t even begin to understand" his voice held a laugh, like he had some inside joke. Once again pushing your buttons.

"Well, ain’t you full of yourself?" You sneered slapping his hands away and twisted away from him. Only for him to grasp your bicep and yank you back towards him.

"I know everything you could possibly think of asking" he purred into the crown of your hair, the  drew in a deep breath groaning as he did.

"Well good for you, now fuck off" you snarled bringing your foot up for a well-aimed nut shot. But the male chuckled snapping his thighs shut capturing the leg in a warm vice.

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Instantly you grunted and tugged, trying to free yourself but the man coiled around you like a snake. His arms holding you to himself tightly, immovable. He was much,  much stronger than he had appeared. Which was saying something considering he was clearly a huge well-built man that worked out.

"It has been such a long time since I face such a mortal~ you are a challenge I like that" he groaned nestling his face into your hair drawing deep breaths in. Growling all the while as you quivered and twisted in his hold trying to free yourself.

"Let go of me or I’ll scream" you huffed out in a panic as the chances of you getting away were slim and it was dawning on you that you will need some help to escape this hulking giant of a man.

"You'll do no such thing" his voice hissed, a deep nerve-wracking malice dripping from the words. You made to scream anyway only for the air in your throat to freeze, lungs tightening heavy and full felling as if they were filling with water.

You fought to suck in air eyes wide and hand trying to clench your neck but the man held your arms at your sides. Whining you stopped moving panting only managing to draw in tiny breaths that were hard to exhale.

"Hush, shh my little firecracker. Your safe, all will be well. Everything will be fine as long as you let me bed you" he soothed moving a hand from you to tuck hair behind your ear and then began to pet your hair gently instantly you clutched at your neck. Huffing and panicking, so much you almost missed his words.

"Wh-at?" You wheezed terrified as you struggled to breath, only catching enough breath as not to pass out. He chuckled and ran his nose over your crown once more, his warmth seeping into your back and he held you to him. It was frightening and completely insane!

"Take me to your room, share yourself with me, let me fuck into you tiny fragile body and show you true rapture, I will grant you anything you desire~" he groaned letting his thighs clench around your ankle and arch into you, his groin brushing over the top curve of your bottom.

"Fffuck no" you hissed still struggling gasping and croaking you blinked repeatedly wanting to clear your vision as it began to blur and darken.

"I warn you wench, do not antagonize me. Do as I have commanded, take me to your bed little mortal~." He growled still moving grinding into you holding you still as you teetered on one foot, his huge thick thighs holding your ankle. One of his hands were spread out over your tummy, holding and caressing slow circles making the warmth seep through your clothes and heat your already flashed skin. He moaned a breathy sound into your hair and rocked enthusiastically into your ass. You whined feeling his cock twitch on you back and began to resign yourself to your fate, all hope dwindling as you felt faint. His other hand was still caressing your hair now his hips jerking faster making your body sway with him in a sickening rhythm.

"I-I n-n" you wheezed tears trickling down your face as you began to truly panic fingers clawing at your throat and chest, trying to fight off the tight feeling of your lungs being crushed.

"Oh, pet don’t be like that come on out with it~" his teasing was light despite the situation, the fact he was slowly suffocating you. The way in which he seemed to have all the time in the world, the calm way his words rolled off his tongue. It was frightening on a whole other level. He had done this before. The confidence in his stance and words made that clear.

"F-fuck" you swore more to yourself then him. Your panic rose as the seconds ticked by and your struggle did nothing to stop this monstrous man.

"I do love makeing you mortals breathless, it always gives me a rush. Teasing your frailty with just enough air so you won’t pass out. A glorious desperation. Seductive, enticing. But I do need my answer now, think carefully about whose holding your very existence in their hand." He cooed finding this all humorous. But he had better things in mind. Like sinking into your body and enjoying his first worthwhile fuck in over a millennium.

"Show me to your bed, and I will show you the stars" he purred once more pressing his lips to your hair gently, breathing you in. the panic, fear and hopeless fight of a humans survival instinct desperate to fight for its life. It aroused him; he had missed this.

This was it? This was how you’d go? Passing out and being kidnapped raped and killed? You could only hope he'd kill you; you knew the alternative heard stories of what befell unsuspecting tourists, ending up in the sex industry, trafficked across continents living as a sex slave to anyone who'd pay for a night of fun. No. NO! you refused! You’d fight- with what little strength you had left you'd fight!

"N-no!" Your shout was louder than the man had anticipated whatever voodoo he cast on you slipped and you managed a few gasps of true air before your lung seized up again. And he was snarling at you once more.

"What?" His voice sounded so offended, like you’d just spat in his face. You could only hope you really had annoyed him. That he was offended by your blatant refusal, he didn’t seem to be prepared for your sheer stubbornness.

"D-id I s-stut-ter?" You huffed out past your once again laboured breaths,  tipping your head around to him smirking. You were greeted with a red angered face, golden eyes full of indignation and rage, his jaw locked and brows creased into a deep frown. He looked like a raging bull.

"No" the word was accompanied by a small smug grin on your part. You may still be struggling but you had won a small victory. His hips were no longer moving across your rear end. In fact, he had seemed to freeze entirely apart from the heaving of his chest behind you. Anger simmering in each and every breath.

"You will obey"

"Li-ke f-fuck!"

"Perhaps you have not realised yet. I. Am. Zeus. King of the gods and you will show some respect, worship me! Give yourself to me freely or face the consequences" his mad words and exclamation was little more than a hushed growl, a violent hiss in your ear followed by a swift tug at your hair pressing your head back to his chest as it rumbled with anger.

"Crazy cunt is wha' you are" you laughed but your eyes were looking into the crowd before you, not aware of the situation unfolding behind them. You flicked your gaze back and forth willing someone- anyone to turn around and see your distress and come help.

"You dare to defy me? Defy the will of the gods!" His hot breath burned your ear. The venom of his words drew another humourless laugh from you. Pushing his buttons was a risk, but the angrier these people got the more likely they were to fuck up. And you needed to take that chance, the only way you were getting away from the behemoth brute was if he fucked up. Luck was on your side as he hissed and released your hair throwing your head forward. You took the chance knowing his head was still tipped down to you and brought your head back as hard as you possibly could cracking him right in the nose.

You grunted when your head made contact striking the male in the face. Hard. It hurt you more then you’d thought it would, your eyes even blurred. But it did the trick, suddenly you were released and you staggered forward out of arms reach, spinning to face him. Even though he pulled back you couldn’t help feeling it was more out of shock then the fact you’d struck him.

"Now rev up and fuck off, you crazy hair bleaching contact wearing hippy" you snarled gasping trembling trying to understand just what the fuck that was about. Before he could reply you backed away bag in hand stepping further back not willing to turn your back on him. You’d expected him to chase you and kidnap you or something. Yet he stood tall ghosting a hand over his nose that you’d hoped was bloodied, lithe fingers curved over his chin. And he grinned, beaming at you scoffing before wagging his finger at you playfully, eyes holding a sick type of mirth that made you go cold.

He huffed shaking his head whilst bringing a hand to the bridge of his nose, rubbing it slightly and curling a finger below his nostrils. Sadly, you hadn’t drew blood, you’re not entirely sure how. You almost blacked out from how hard you’d headbutted him, but his nose was intact. He pulled his hand away and wagged a finger at you grinning.

"I shall see you soon y/n. Do behave, I may not be beside you, but I am watching you now mortal... I will collect you soon~" he ended with a small laugh at your face contorting into one of horror and you inched back a few steps.

"You fucking creep" you said shaking  backing up a few more feet before spinning around and bolted to the crowd bag in hand. He didn’t give chase, just watched you scuttle off.

Once you got to the relative safety of the crowd you darted into the mass of bodies. Twisting and turning between the people, trying to weave a maze though. It was only when you caught up to your tour group you were able to breathe easy. But one thing unsettled you. How did he know your name? You never gave it to him. Did you? God that was soo creepy. You chanced a look back in the direction but didn’t see him, instead of finding the tall man with long silver locks your eyes were drawn to the huge bird in the tree above where you’d sat. The eagles golden eyes staring at you unblinkingly, then it cried out a loud call, it felt like a warning.

The sound drew the crowds attention before it dived making some duck and yelp as the bird glided over the crowd shitting on one of the dancers making them stop and yell out before swooping off to the left disappearing out of sight. You giggle along with the others in your group as they chuckled at the dancers complaining. With a final look for your assailant, you breathed a sigh of relief. He was gone.

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Zeus chuckled as he arrived at Olympus turning to peak back down at you before he landed. You were the one, he would have years of fun with you before you got boring, maybe there was something to these new... Millennials. You were certainly feisty.

He grinned and walked through the palace, heading straight to the dining hall with a grin on his face. Scheming already, he had the perfect punishment for such an unruly mortal. He just had to command a few gods to do his bidding. Then he would have you here, his own pet. A mortal cunt in Olympus just for him.

"Eros, I have need of you~" Zeus' voice carried from the door like thunder silencing the room. All those in the hall ceased their conversations as the king strode in past the huge table. All eyes moved to the god of carnal love. Hera snapped her gaze from eros to Zeus and back worry striking her,  was he going to make eros intervenes with her? Make her crave her husband once more?

"My king?" Eros called his curled hair pulled from his face and blue eyes trying to read his kings mood. But it was for naught. None but Zeus would ever know what was truly going on inside the god kings head.

Zeus paraded passed all of other Olympians, a spring in his step not even glancing at them, paying no heed to the looks he garnered as he crossed the room in human attire.  He took his seat at the head of the table and began helping himself to the food as he spoke with a smile non had seen for an age.

"Yes, there is a mortal. I wish to... Punish her" his voice carried over the table igniting a rush of whispered. Hera gasped and dropped her cutlery with a loud crash, silencing the murmurs.

"Punish a mortal?" Eros asked with a smirk, wiping over his beard with a napkin fighting a grin. It had been too long since he had interfered with the mortals. Lust was so rife in the mortal realm now with the sexual liberation in the past few centuries he'd not had to torment them.

"Yes. A female, ornery mare of a woman she refused me in... the most extraordinary way." Zeus explained with a smile as he began to eat. The table came to life once more gossiping, this confirmed the rumours. Zeus was unhappy again, Hera was out of favour and the king will once again wander, go as far as to seek out a human.

"Husband why would you seek out a mortal?" Hera asked quietly leaning forward placing a hand on Zeus' arm. He simply glanced at her hand as he finished his mouthful, then glanced at her face holding her in his unnerving stare. Then he shook off her hand and continued eating letting the hall fall into judgemental silence.  

Hera remained still watching him, pleading with her eyes begging for an answer. Wanting this to just be a trick to humiliate her, a bluff to call her to heel. And she must admit it was working. Suddenly she felt replaceable just as mitis was, like all his lovers were. But still she had hoped she was different; her refusal had granted her more mercy from him when she acted out.

"Because you are so fun Hera? You wander and mope, haunt these halls like a widow! You refuse my advances- my affections try to punish me for my wandering with the belief I will never tire of it?" He finally spoke teasing her cruely, all but laughing at her. She frowned shaking her head trying to find some words to soothe him, change his mind! Save herself this humiliation.  

"No. I cannot stand it. I will not fight you each night and be rewarded with a boring bed mate that lays still and weeps. If you wish to escape my affection then congratulations. You have achieved your goal" he said with a shrug not a care in the world to how he'd just laid out their intimate relations bare. Nameing and shaming her for being a lousy wife that had drove away the most insatiable of beings. Everyone knew Zeus loved sex, any sex forced or not. For him to cast Hera aside because she was that undesirable in the bed chamber was... extremely embarrassing for the goddess.

"Husband I? I did not- I was merely hurt by your affairs I love you-" she tried holding back her panic as she felt her world crumbling around her. First it was a lover, then a child before she knew it, she could be killed and replaced!

Zeus smiled at her sardonically. Eyes harsh boring into her with a deep distaste she had not noticed before. It made the goddess shiver. She suddenly got the feeling her days were numbered.

"Then perhaps driving me away was not your best course of action? You had two thousand years to come around. I will wait no longer. I have found a new female. A feisty young mortal who has ignited my heart once more and will take her place in my bed. She will do what you have failed"

"No! Zeus I cannot- will not allow this!" Hera shouted standing up so fast her chair slid back a food few feet from her. The room was I stunned silence watching as Hera their queen stood frozen but shaking as she out right challenged Zeus.

Zeus stood slowly wiping his mouth with a napkin and walked around the side of the table rounding his wife who began to tremble with fear aswell as anger. Fear taking over as Zeus swerved around her and paused at her chair. Then with a mighty show of force he kicked it into her legs. The wood hit her knees and she yelped crumpling into the seat and hung her head.

The small ,act had been enough to show everyone just where she now stood... or sat. And it was below him. He had belittled her here in front of her own people, her own children. But he wasn’t finished. He moved to stand behind her and rested a hand on her back before leaning over her, crushing her under his weight as he reached out for the pitcher of wine before her and began hissing words out at her head the fury in his voice enough to make even Ares and Artemis tremble. They had not seen their father so angry before, not even they would cross him when in this mood.

"You allow nothing, because you are nothing. Nothing but a bitter, empty used up wench. I shall do as I please when I please and you will keep these tantrums to yourself release your own bitter anger in your own company in your own rooms, lest I unleash mine on you" he threatened and waited for a slight docile nod before he stood tall again taking the innocent pitcher of wine back to his seat and pouring himself a glass.

"W-will you return to the mortal realm for her? As you did before" Hera spoke demurely eyes cast down in her lap as her mind reeled. She'd never been so close to feeling the wrath of her husband before.  It was sobering, tears began trickling down her face as she realised, she had truly lost him this time and only had herself to blame.

"That is none of your business- my new mistress is nothing to concern yourself with. In fact wife, I think it would be in your best interest to forget my new conquest, she will bear the burden your refuse and warm my bed, day and night." Zeus boasted twisting the knife into the already open salted wound. He was revelling in this. Hera had displeased him for far too long, now she would see the error of her ways and endure what he has decided.

The spiteful bitches hate would be doused, he will pull the rug from under her just to watch the bruises mottle her skin. She may belive herself to be spiteful, but she forgets Zeus was out right monstrous when he wanted to be, vicious, cunning and all powerful. And now she was at his mercy. She will beg to lie with him but he will refuse he no longer covoted her as he once did.

"So do smile Hera. For you have what you want. You are now free from your wifely duty. Never again will you be joined in your chambers at night. A you will never have to endure a man’s lust from now until your dying day" he chuckled raising a glass to his disgraced wife in a toast. The mortified goddess looked up to see the vindictive smile upon her husband’s face as he drank to her despair.

"For I may have found a fresh mortal cunt to plunder but you are still my wife. And should anyone think to have you? Well, I shan’t take to kindly to it" his final decree was one of pure spite. He was making it known she would suffer abstinence,  betrayal,  adultery and possibly another bastard. That she will be replaced by a mere mortal. And she will never be free.

"You know I believe I will take my meal out on the balcony..." Zeus decided and stood once more this time lifting his plate and wine before stepping around the table once more. He paused as Hera began rising with her own, clearly hoping he would allow her a private dinner to discuss things. Little did she know there was nothing ,ore to discuss. He had no time for her weeping and mindless panicked pleas.

"Alone Hera, surely you do not think I wish to be alone with you in my chambers? I never wish for you to enter my bedchambers again. You have no place there" he ordered crushing the goddess more so than before, then laughed as she bit her lip trying not to weep at the utter humiliation of being discarded so thoroughly and publicly. Zeus smirked wider and then he turned to Eros.

"Eros. As I said, I need your skills. I will speak with you after your meal. Seek me out when you are finished" he insisted rubbing salt into Hera's the wound. Inviting another to his chamber just after barring her. His wife.

"Of course, I shall be there momentarily my king" Eros replied with a low tip of his head. Zeus smiled like a Cheshire cat and spun exiting to dining hall pleased with how his day had turned out. The sweet sound of his wife’s quiet sobs echoing the halls of his palace. He may have been cruel, but two thousand years of spiteful refusal and frustratingly poor sex had led to this moment. Hera would now spend the rest of her days regretting trying to punish him, him! Zeus the king of the gods?!

She will rue the day she thought she was above him. The day she sought to teach him a lesson. She should have known the day would come when he would turn the tables and punish her. He just never anticipated this victory would taste so sweet.

[theaudemon]

Greek myths omori au

Hello there lovely people. Guess who while working on some things for some aus I had a new idea so here I am to share what I have for you today.

Greek myths au

So this au actually started out as a simple crossover au with the game hades before I went overboard and realised it didn't really count as a crossover with that anymore. In this au the omori cast are kids from certain gods and figures from greek mythology, before you ask...yes this au is angsty and involves a conflict between kel and Hero. Anyway so:

Hero is the child of Zeus and Hera. He is aware of his dad's outings despite not being happy with them. He usually doesn't bother talking with his half siblings since most of them are mortal but gets along well with any sibling he has on Olympus. He's more prone to emotion due to his upbringing.

Kel is Hero's half brother, his father is Zeus and his mother is a rather powerful nymph. Zeus wants to make extremely sure that no one knows about him (Especially hero). Kel knows he's a bastard child and protects his friends from the gods on Olympus the best he can.

Sunny and Mari are the children of Prometheus, as direct children of titans most gods can't help to be suspicious of them (Yes I'm aware of the irony). They both care about humanity since it's their father's creation. Sunny is the silent voice of reason and Mari was the eldest of the group who often lifted everyone's spirit up.

Basil is the child of a small nature nymph and also the goddess Ate. He's usually shunned by a lot of gods since he can cause delusions and make people believe things they otherwise shouldn't. He does his best to only use that when needed though.

Aubrey is the daughter of Ares. She actually had a decent relationship with him after she left her mom but Zeus made sure Ares wouldn't talk or meet with her again after he found out she was friends with Kel.

So that's everyone important, now onto the story of this au

Hero figures out Kel exists after learning about a sibling his father actively hid from everyone, especially Hero. This makes him curious and makes him want to meet this specific sibling.

At first it's to figure out why Zeus didn't want Hero specifically to figure it out, he of course keeps it secret he goes out and where he goes.

With some disguises and convincing different gods to tell him more about Kel he figures out where he lives and that he has a habit of disliking olympians (specifically his father) and also being strong enough to make Zeus himself decide not to chase a victim if that person asks him for help.

Which of course makes Hero think that meeting Kel under the guise of a random god or nymph would be amazing.

So he meets the gang of Aubrey, Basil and Sunny before Kel comes back with food. He feels a bit weird meeting them though because he's been told by others how you can't trust Basil and Sunny. Basil due to his mother and Sunny because he's the son of Prometheus and also the brother of Mari who's chained up like her father after an incident (which was actually due to Sunny but she took the blame for him while Basil kept him from stopping her).

Shenanigans and angst ensue. Kel gets along with Hero until he figures out who he is and of course more angst issues.

Anyway that's everything for now ^^ I hope you liked it and see ya next time. (Feel free to leave critiques on the idea btw)

[bad4amficideas]

Another idea I'm not going to write u.u,

Yandere!JusticeLeaguexMetaHuman!Reader, based on that scene where Wonderwoman compares JLA to the Olympian Gods but editing a little. So at least Superman/Zeus, Aquaman/Poseidon, Batman/Hades, GreenLantern/Apolo, Cyborg/Hephaestus, Flash/Hermes and WW.

We could gonna said Artemis is Green Arrow if someone would want add him. WW is Athena... or Hera??? If someone want add Shazam them he's Zeus and Ares is good guy Superman (like, touch my daughter and die son of a bitch or his Roman, Mars version like). Then my question is where I put Martian Manhunter, maybe he is Athena if WW is Hera?? 🤯

Then Reader is Aphrodite and goes by Concubbus (sorry I read that post and must use it, most genderneutral thing ever!!) maybe they call them the Gentle One (this is an allusion to fae/faery, folk people, another form to call them). Or wthatever you want, who cares? Pheromones, empatic and/or telepathic (non-telekinetic) powers, a kinky weapon and there is our Reader.

... or, not so funny but Reader could also be Dionysus or Hestia at your choice but the JL becoming mad because: "are they done this on purpose with their power? Yes so, so I would have no shame in make them mine..."Or "Is this my true self? Angst is life.

Free prompt, free prompt for whenever want it!!! free adoption!!

As always tag me if you write it.

[cabensonsgirly]

👼Baby’s got trouble. Don’t know how to live. Don’t want to die. (Cordelia Goode)👼

Cordelia Goode x Fem!reader

👼Part 6 of SP getting reader pregnant👼

👼Slice 8👼

Co-authored with @billiedeannovak even though she will deny it in the court of law.

👼Published on AO3: Read Here👼

👼Wordcount: 1369👼

👼Content: AU, angst, slow-burn, a n g s t, discussion involving death and dying, threats of murder, religious metaphors, pregnancy.👼

👼If this is what it feels like to be a god up on Olympus then you wanted nothing to do with it. You understood Hera preventing other gods and demi-gods from joining them because they were not capable of dealing with the stresses that came from this position, although you knew it was mainly because she was beyond angry that Zeus couldn’t keep his dick to himself.👼

“Fiona? Do you know anything about this Michael Langdon person? He has been awfully inquisitive about mine and Cordelia’s baby as well as her… you know… I don’t trust him.”

“He is a warlock and is apparently in line to become the next Supreme, but his focus seems to be solely on power and domination. Yes, I know that I became rather… tyrannical with power but he is different, there is something about him that is off.”

You let out a sigh and run your fingers through your hair, leaning back in the couch that Cordelia had bought for her office. Cordelia leans forward, steepling her hands, her brows furrowed in thought “Surely there would be no issue with entertaining him long enough for us to fully understand what his agenda is, yes? Witches are notoriously more powerful and cunning than warlocks who believe that just because they are men that they are infinitely better and don’t need any actual skill to wield magic. Our latest girls are extremely talented, so we should be more than well equipped for defence should anything happen.”

Fiona hums, bringing her cigarette to her lips before lighting it, taking a drag before speaking “You have a child to think of, Cordelia, as well as understanding that you are fading which in turn lowers your magical ability. However,” she flicks the ash into the ashtray “I have heard that when witches are with child, their magical ability becomes more powerful. I know this from personal experience too.”

You bite your bottom lip hard and sit up, one of your hands resting on your bump “Then it is settled. We entertain this man until we understand more about what his agenda is. Cordelia, you make sure that you are rested, and I will get Misty to aid you- No Cordelia, this isn’t up for debate. You may be the supreme, but I am your girlfriend and mother to our child, your wellbeing is vital, and we will need you to remain rested and alert. Fiona, I will need you to help me ensure that the girls are still on-track. Are we all on the same page?”

Cordelia stares at you in shock, her cheeks a lovely shade of pink, and Fiona is chuckling to herself as she finishes of her cigarette “Well I’ll take your silence as a yes. I will go extend an invitation to Langdon, things will be moving quickly after that; I don’t think it will take long for him to make his presence known.”

It was odd how the relationship between you and Fiona had developed, but it was pleasant nonetheless and you could see how happy it made Cordelia that her mother and her girlfriend were getting along so well. Although Fiona smoked during the meeting, she often held-back from doing so because she knew second-hand smoke wasn’t healthy for mothers-to-be either, you would tease her about going soft, but you also knew that she wouldn’t hesitate to destroy anyone who hurt her daughter and grandbaby.

“Do we have any failsafes in place if this” you gesture vaguely with your hand “meeting? Goes tits up?” Fiona looks up from the notepad she was writing on “You still have a few weapons from when you were undercover, yes? Those are what will be our failsafes.” You blanche at the reminder, shaking your head “Fiona I- Cordelia doesn’t know I kept them. I can’t do that. I don’t think-“ Fiona cuts you off, her tone leaving no room for argument “You won’t have a choice if things start heading in the wrong direction, Yn. It’s either him or you and your child. Yes Cordelia will be upset that you kept the weapons from her, but she will be grateful that you came out of it alive. These times call for measures we never would have thought we would need to do. Surely you understand that.”

You sigh, shaking your head even though you knew she was right “Death has already made himself comfortable in this home, Fiona… It’s only a matter of time before someone dies.” You could still hear each step of the horse, their hooves sound booming as they come into contact with the hardwood flooring. At night you would see him standing at the foot of the bed before he would turn and leave, you didn’t know if it was because Cordelia would be gone soon or whether there was someone else that would meet their demise. “He could be a warning, Yn. Letting us know that whoever is to walk through that front door is the one to either bring someone’s demise or they will be the one to fall. There are choices we must make, and this time it is vital you make the correct one.”

If this is what it feels like to be a god up on Olympus then you wanted nothing to do with it. You understood Hera preventing other gods and demi-gods from joining them because they were not capable of dealing with the stresses that came from this position, although you knew it was mainly because she was beyond angry that Zeus couldn’t keep his dick to himself. You had another life growing in you, you had to do what was best for this new life as well as for your partner and yourself, and if that meant letting the demons out of the closet in order to protect them, you would do it.

“He’s here.” You and Fiona both look at each other “You go inform Cordelia, I will greet our esteemed guest.” She nods and you make your way down the grand staircase to the entrance, seeing who you assume was Michael Langdon. You force yourself to smile at him, offering your hand to shake his “Pleasure to meet you, Michael. You’re making waves in the community, safe to say you’ve made quite a name for yourself.” He smiles back, and you can see why he had some of the coven members fawning over him, but you weren’t one of them. “All good things I hope. You are being talked about too, although for an entirely different reason. It is rather uncommon for a witch to be with child, more so being impregnated by another witch, the Supreme no less.”

You could feel your skin crawl but you pushed through the sensation, leading him to the sitting room where you both sat down, one of the staff members offering him a drink which he politely declines. “It would be foolish to underestimate anyone it seems, Michael. Why were you so insistent on meeting me? We have nothing to offer you here.” He smiles again except you could see the fire in his eyes, Lucifer. “On the contrary, Yn, you do have something I am interested in.”

“If you say my child, you will regret ever stepping foot in this building, Michael.” He laughs and leans back in the seat, crossing one leg over the other “Let me finish, Yn. Didn’t your mother tell you it was rude to interrupt someone? Oh wait…” he faux pouts “Your mommy and daddy kicked you out. I suggest you listen and listen closely because I will only say this once.” He stands up and moves around the table to where you are, staring down at you. You stare up at him, your jaw set and your gaze unwavering.

“It is either your precious girlfriend that dies, or you give that child to me so that I can ensure that the next Supreme won’t be a damn witch. Haven’t you noticed how few girls you have?” He leans in, his teeth bared in a feral grin, similar to that of a wolfs “Your coven’s days are numbered. Who do you think sent the horseman?” You go to say something but before you can he is gone, the silence broken by a scream of your name by Fiona.

Fiona hasn’t screamed since you came back.

You looked up and saw another horse, fiery and red. You knew that whoever sat upon it would be the one to take peace from the earth, and that one life should take another. You knew what needed to be done.