#now. the question is that would hera let him

[yonemurishiroku]

Hmm.

Since Nico is under Hades’ protection, I suppose the only way Zeus can put pressure on him is to hold someone he cares about over his head?

We have Hazel, who basically has Pluto. Reyna has Artemis. Percy has Poseidon. Will has Apollo, if you count him too.

Ah, Jason.

[sluttywonwoo]

hypnos

hypnos, the personification of sleep in greek myth. according to legend, he was promised the hand in marriage of hera's daughter, pasithea, in exchange for a favor...

pairing: vernon chwe x f reader

summary: most nights your husband sleeps peacefully beside you, but lately his dreams have made him restless.

warnings: swearing, arranged marriage, mommy issues, angst, alcohol, family planning discussions (no actual pregnancy!), smut (18+ ; mdni)

smut warnings: slight somno (wet dreams), handjob, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, sub!vernon ok kind of switch!vernon, mentions of pegging

word count: 4k

for @fuckvernon (happy birthday rat)

You have long sworn that the worst day of your life was the day you got married. Tears rolling down your otherwise impassive face as you stared at your equally expressionless fiance from across the altar. A stranger, practically, save for a few cordial business-like meetings between the two of your families. 

You don’t remember what it felt like to kiss him that day, only the taste of salt from your own tears shared between you. 

Now, your husband sleeps soundly beside you in the bed that you share. It was one of the stipulations of your marriage contract, one that he had insisted on. You didn’t question it at the time but you’ve always wondered why he was so adamant about it. You did have a lot of staff working around the house during the day but they always went home before either of you turned in for the night. It wasn’t like you had to keep up appearances then. 

You’ve gotten used to it, at least. Sharing a bed with a stranger wasn’t as difficult now that he wasn’t a stranger anymore. A year had passed since the day you were wed— though it felt like thirty— and while you weren’t lovers, you were partners. Somewhat. 

You understood each other, connected by the inseverable thread of your fates. Trapped together by your circumstances. It was simultaneously comforting and undeniably lonely. 

The worst was when you would come back from events where you had to play up your relationship. Spending the evening arm in arm or holding hands, pretending to be devoted spouses to each other, only to drop the act as soon as you were back in the car. 

You weren’t sure if Vernon felt the same way. He was so hard to read. The only time you were sure you knew exactly what he was feeling was on your wedding day, when he pulled you aside beforehand and whispered, “I’m sorry,” in your ear. 

You knew he hadn’t wanted this either. It wasn’t fair to hold any of it against him, and yet a small part of you did. 

You’ve clung to that resentment like a life preserver, afraid to let go and drown in feelings that threaten to overtake you. Resentment you can control. It protects you from what you can’t, like the growing fondness for your husband you’ve been trying to push down for a while now. 

You tried your best to be indifferent to him, neither antagonistic nor overly amicable but the nagging thoughts in the back of your mind have been getting harder to ignore. 

Tonight was the most challenging night yet. A charity dinner for one of your mother’s philanthropic endeavors, one she insisted ‘required your attendance’ despite your protests. You showed up as promised, only to be yanked into a dozen different conversations with your parents' friends. 

Vernon was a good sport, as always. He was a natural at these things. His effortless charm had all of the ladies in your mother’s church group hanging on to his every word, all of their husbands laughing at his corny jokes. You tried your best to participate to take some of the pressure off of him and get your parents off your back but you mostly stuck to nursing your flute of champagne while he did the talking. You didn’t even like champagne. 

The food was decent, at least, though you hardly got to enjoy any of it before your mother was pulling you into yet another discussion with a group of women from the board. 

You chatted with them cordially, talking in circles about nothing until one of the board members dropped the reason they had actually dragged you over there. 

“So, when are these two going to make you a grandmother?” she asked your mother, even though the question was obviously directed at you.

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment but Vernon squeezed your hand in reassurance. You prepared yourself to give the typical we’re not in a rush answer you always gave but your husband beat you to the punch. 

“We’ve actually started trying,” he said casually, slipping the hand that wasn’t holding yours into the pocket of his slacks.

Your mother’s eyes lit up and her friends gasped in delight. Interesting reactions considering your husband had all but just told everyone he was hitting it raw every single night.

You had to act like this wasn’t also news to you and smile and nod very calmly even though you suddenly felt very sweaty all over. 

“That’s wonderful!” another one of the women exclaimed. “You must be so excited,” she said to your mother. 

“This is news to me, too,” she laughed. You were surprised that she was admitting to the lack of knowledge but maybe it was because Vernon would also know she was lying. “But yes, this is very exciting.” 

She then reached forward and plucked your half-finished flute of champagne from your hands, chiding you that “you should know better”. 

“Mom, I’m not pregnant now,” you groaned. 

“You never know!”

But you did know. There was absolutely no way you were pregnant unless you were some kind of scientific mirable or the second coming of Mary herself.

Children had never been part of the marriage contract, thankfully. Both sets of your parents knew what the contract was- a business deal and nothing more. They were gracious enough not to burden you further with the requirement of an “heir”. You and Vernon both knew it was an unspoken expectation but neither of you were intent on fulfilling it, at least that’s what you thought. 

The rest of the evening was spent talking about babies. One of the board members even recommended you to her OBGYN and made you write down her number. Vernon engaged animatedly with all of it, perfectly sliding into his new role of dad-to-be while you could hardly muster up the strength to fake a smile. 

He was quiet on the ride home, driving silently down the highway with both hands on the wheel, not so much as looking at you. He didn’t offer any explanation for the curve ball he’d pitched right at the back of your head other than, “it’ll get them off our backs”. 

You had so many more questions you wanted to ask. Had he changed his mind about the kids thing? Did he want to take your relationship... there? You had only kissed him a handful of times, always in the presence of other people in order to sell your marriage. Behind closed doors, your romance was nonexistent. You shared a bed because that was outlined in the contract you signed but that was it. 

Whether or not you wanted more from him was irrelevant. 

Vernon was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow but you were still up, thinking over every interaction from the night. You usually didn’t let yourself read into things because you were trying to keep yourself from falling down delusional rabbit holes but after tonight you couldn’t stop yourself from overanalyzing all of the things you always did your best to overlook. 

You tried to distract yourself with a book you were reading but you couldn’t get a paragraph in before the words began to blur together on the page as your thoughts consumed you again. 

You gave up half an hour ago and are now just staring at the ceiling, tracing the shadows created by the shade of the lamp on your bedside table with your gaze. 

You heave a sigh and roll over to turn it off, only to be stopped by the sound of your husband stirring beside you. You freeze, afraid your movement disturbed him, but when you glance over your shoulder you find that he’s still asleep. 

You wait a few more seconds before reaching for the light again, just to make sure he’s well and truly out, but this time he mumbles something out loud, causing you to turn over the other way to see if he’s trying to get your attention. 

His eyes are closed but his breathing is ragged and uneven. He must be dreaming, you realize. This happens sometimes, when he’s especially tired or stressed out. He’ll talk in his sleep or toss and turn like he can’t get comfortable even though he’s totally unconscious. He always seems so distressed by them that you’ve assumed the dreams are nightmares. 

You get torn over whether or not to wake him when they happen. The few times you have intervened he seemed grateful that you had but sometimes the dreams seem to stop on their own. His breathing will go back to normal, the crinkle between his brows will smooth out, and you’ll both sleep through the rest of the night peacefully. 

You’re equally indecisive now. He shouldn’t have to suffer like that just because you’re too scared to wake him up, though, so you resolve to just bite the bullet and nudge him awake. 

You suck in a breath and reach for your husband across the mattress, stopping short when he whimpers your name. 

You’re frozen again but for an entirely different reason now. His sleeptalking wasn’t usually anything comprehensible, let alone your name. You stay like that for a few seconds, waiting to see if he’d say it again or if you had maybe misheard him. 

To your surprise, he does say it again, this time followed by, “fuck”. Figures you’d be in his nightmares too. 

“Vernon,” you hiss, jostling his shoulder. 

“Hm?”

“Vernon, wake up.”

Your husband groans and blinks slowly, squinting in an attempt to make out your features. 

“What is it?”

“You were having a bad dream,” you explain. 

“Oh, th-thanks.” 

“Are you okay? It seemed pretty intense.”

“I’m okay,” he assures you, swallowing harshly. “I’m sorry if I woke you up.”

“You didn’t. I haven’t been able to fall asleep.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Do you want some water or something?” you ask, taking in his appearance. Now that he’s alert and awake you can see just how disheveled he looks. He’s still panting hard and his cheeks are flushed and his bangs are sticking to his forehead, damp with sweat. He looks like you do at the end of a pilates class, not like a man who had just woken up. 

“No, I’m alright, thank you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

Silence lapses between you, then your curiosity gets the better of you. 

“What was it about?”

“What? What was what about?”

You stare at him. “Your nightmare.”

“It wasn’t a-anything important,” he stutters.

“That’s not what it sounded like.”

Vernon blinks. “What do you mean? What did I say?”

“You, um, called my name. A couple of times.”

He takes a moment to process what you’ve said and then sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. I know it isn’t your fault.” He looks pained. “I just wanted to know why you were having a nightmare about me.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Vernon.”

“I wasn’t!” he insists. 

“Lying to my mother’s friends might be second nature to you by now but you know that won’t work on me.” 

“I’m not lying. It wasn’t a nightmare.”

“You expect me to believe that? You’re still all sweaty.”

“You just have to trust me,” he pleads. 

“Why won’t you tell me what I was doing in your dream? I promise I won’t be upset.” Well, now you’re the one lying but he’s being so cagey about it that you feel like you have to get to the bottom of whatever it is that he’s hiding. 

“You’ll look at me differently,” he groans.

“No, I won’t.”

“You will.”

“You’re really not going to tell me?” He doesn’t answer. “Fine.”

“Hold on, what are you doing? Where are you going?” he asks, watching as you sit up and grab your pillow from behind you.

“I’m going to sleep in the guest room,” you mutter.

You’d be breaking that stupid fucking clause in your contract if you did but you didn’t care. You’d pay whatever the fine was, you just couldn’t stand to be in the same bed as him for another moment.

“Wait, don’t get up-” Vernon tries but it’s too late. 

You had gotten up anyway and pulled the covers back in the process, revealing the real reason your husband wouldn’t tell you what he was dreaming about. 

“Oh,” is what you say. It’s all you can say. 

He tries to cover himself with his hands but you’ve already seen. 

“I’m so sorry,” he mumbles. 

“So it was that kind of dream...” you muse, mostly to yourself. 

He nods miserably. “Yeah... it was.”

“Are they always?”

“Are you really going to make me answer that?”

You drop your pillow back onto the bed and sit at its edge. Vernon peeks up at you, shying away when you lean closer. 

“Will you tell me what it was about now?”

He balks. “What? You still want to know?”

“Wouldn’t you?”  

“You’re going to think I’m a huge pervert,” he sighs. “If you don’t already.”

“Come on, you owe this to me.”

Even the tips of his ears are pink now. “It was... you know, it was about normal husband and wife stuff.”

“What is normal husband and wife stuff?”

Vernon whines. “You know what it is.”

“I want to hear you say it.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?” 

“I don’t want to disrespect you like that.”

“Why would that disrespect me? I’m your wife aren’t I?”

He gulps. “You... really want to know?”

“I do.”

“You were... touching me.”

“Touching you how? Like this?” You lay your hand over his, the warmth of your palm making him shiver. 

“N-no.”

“Show me,” you murmur.

“Are you sure?”

“Only if you want to.”

He places his other hand over yours and guides it to his lap, pressing firm over the material of his pajama pants. You’re surprised to feel that the fabric is a little damp, already soaked through with precum. 

Vernon’s breath hitches as you stroke him experimentally over his pants. He’s bigger than you expected, thicker at least. You were always... curious about that. Thought about it one too many times late at night after your husband had gone to bed early. And you still tried to delude yourself about being indifferent towards him. 

“Fuck, that feels good,” he whispers. 

“Is this what you were dreaming about?” you ask. 

“Sort of.”

“What do you mean?”

“It started like this.”

“And then what happened?”

He whimpers in embarrassment again but you don’t let up, gripping him even harder. “We were kissing.”

“And?”

“And you started taking your clothes off.”

You let go of your husband’s cock and take hold of the hem of your sleep shirt, preparing to lift it over your head. 

“Wait, can I do it?”

“Is that how it went in your dream?”

“N-no...”

“Maybe next time, then.”

Vernon’s eyes grow even wider. “There’s going to be a next time?”

You almost scoff at him. As if you were ever going to let go of him now that you had him. 

He watches, mesmerized, as you take off your shirt and wiggle out of your shorts. You leave your underwear on, though, not wanting to expose yourself completely while he is still fully dressed. 

“Oh my god, you’re so fucking hot,” he whines. “It’s so unfair- don’t laugh!”

You purse your lips together to try and stifle said laughter. “Sorry, sorry. I just didn’t expect you to be like this.”

“Like what?”

So pathetic, is what immediately comes to mind.

“So cute,” is what you actually say to him. 

He pouts. “I’m not usually this... needy,” he insists. 

You have trouble believing that but you don’t argue. Only time will tell, you suppose.

“Can I touch you?” he asks before you can say anything in response. 

He’s been staring at your tits since you took your shirt off. You’re tempted to tease him a little more but you’re also just as desperate to feel him so you nod.

He scrambles to his knees and leans forward, nearly falling flat on his face in the process. You expect him to go right for your boobs but he touches your shoulders first. He’s gentle, running his thumbs across your collarbones and then up the column of your neck before finally tucking your hair behind your ear. 

Then he moves lower, tracing invisible lines down your chest to your nipples, gasping quietly when he finds that they’re hard under his palms. 

“Vernon?”

His head snaps up to look at you. “Hm?”

“Kiss me.”

You’ll never forget what it feels like to kiss him after tonight. He puts one hand on the back of your head and pulls you into him, kissing you with all of the desire and longing and painful anticipation he’s held on to for so many months. 

You catch his bottom lip between your teeth and tug, relishing in the gasp he lets out in return. You only draw back when he starts to mumble incoherently into your mouth, and it’s reluctant. You want to keep kissing him, but you also figure what he’s saying might be important. 

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he rasps. “So long.”

“I know,” you sigh. “All those dreams...”

“It’s not just the dreams.” You want to ask him to elaborate but he’s rambling again before you can. “Can I eat you out? Please, can I taste you, baby?”

He’s never called you that behind closed doors before. It takes you aback. “I-”

“Please? Let me make it up to you. Let me make it all up to you, I promise I’ll make you feel so good.”

“Okay,” you agree meekly. 

“Here, lay down. Yeah, lay down just like that.”

He’s frantic for it, hurrying to get between your legs as you spread them for him. He helps you get your panties off and starts to kiss his way up your thighs, the heat of his lips searing and fervent. He stops just before he reaches your pussy and lifts his gaze to meet your eyes. 

“You’re sure?” he asks. 

 You nod. “I’m sure.”

Just like when he kissed you, he’s gentle at first as he laves his tongue over you. He takes his time, showing more restraint than you were expecting while he explores you.

“Taste so sweet,” he mumbles and the vibrations from his voice make you moan and thread your fingers through his hair so that you can push his face even further into you. He goes until he has to come up for air, and when he does, he’s literally dripping with you. “Spent so many nights thinking about the way you’d taste,” he gasps, “telling myself I’d never get to find out.”

“Is it as good as you hoped?” you ask. 

“You have to let me do this to you every night,” he says before burying his tongue in you again. 

It’s not an answer, not really, but you can tell he’s already a little pussydrunk and therefore a little stupid. He’s been grinding against the mattress the entire time he’s been giving you head, working himself up just as much as you. But you don’t want him to cum until he’s fucked you so you tug at his hair to get his attention. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just want you to fuck me.”

“For real?”

“Yes, for real. Is that not part of your dreams?”

“It-it is.”

“Come on, then.”

You watch him start to unbutton his pajama shirt, trying to commit every frame of him to memory so that you could replay the scene in your mind whenever you missed him. Once his shirt’s off, he reaches for the waistband of his pants but stops suddenly as something dawns on him. 

“I don’t have any condoms.”

“None?”

“Listen, it’s not like either of us have been getting laid.”

It’s true. Even though your marriage up until this point had only been on paper, you and Vernon had both agreed to include an infidelity clause in your contracts. You weren’t allowed to sleep with anyone but your husband which had made you think you’d either be celibate for the rest of your life or only add a notch to your bedpost when your families finally wore you both down about kids.

“You can just pull out,” you tell him.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, my best friend says she and her husband do that all the time.”

“Well, now I can never look at Jeon Wonwoo the same ever again so thanks for that.”

“Vernon,” you whine, “are you going to fuck me or not?”

“Right, sorry.”

Your husband climbs on top of you, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist as he lines himself up. 

“You’re sure you’re okay with me pulling out? I can get condoms first thing in the morning and-”

“I’m sure,” you assure him. “I trust you.”

He breathes a sigh of relief and pushes inside of you. “Fuck, I lo-” 

He catches himself, eyes wide. You can’t even say anything because he starts fucking you before you can process what he almost said, purposefully distracting you. He’s using his dick against you which is frankly unfair. 

But you can’t be too mad about it either because it feels so fucking good. It’s also intense, though. His cock is a lot bigger than your fingers and it’s been a long time since anything but those had been inside of you so need a little longer to adjust to the stretch. 

“Slow, slower,” you plead.

He slows down immediately and lowers himself to kiss you. “Sorry, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, it feels good, you’re just really goddamn thick and I need a minute.”

Vernon laughs, which does nothing to help your predicament. “Take all the time you need.”

When you finally do get used to the feeling, and you finally convince Vernon that you’ve recovered (you have to repeat yourself four times), it’s like you’ve broken a spell. Your husband turns into your lover in the blink of an eye. 

“God damn it, you’re perfect. How is everything about you so perfect,” he murmurs. “Perfect fucking wife... wasted so much time...” You want to tell him that you can make up for it now, that you have years- your whole lives to make up for it, but the words won’t come. “Shit I’m close, are you close?”

You nod, trying your best to verbalize a response. What you end up saying is nonsensical but Vernon seems to understand it because he keeps going, keeps hitting that spot that’s making you gush all over him until you’re tearing up and sobbing out his name as you cum around him. 

He holds on just long enough to fuck you through your orgasm before he pulls out and gives in to his own, cumming all over your tummy with little to no aim. The sight is so pretty you think you could cum again untouched just from watching him. 

He collapses beside you in a breathless heap. “I’m s-sorry I should’ve asked where you wanted it.”

“I don’t think I could’ve given you an answer anyway.”

“And I’m sorry that was so short, I usually last longer-”

“Stop apologizing! It was amazing.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll clean you up,” he promises, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “Just give me a second.”

You lie there in silence together for a few moments as you wait to regain feeling in your fingers and toes. You have so much to talk about now, but all you can manage to ask is, “so, is that is how all your dreams go?”

Vernon snorts and shakes his head in disbelief. 

“I told you, I’m curious!”

“S-sometimes you’re the one fucking me,” he admits shakily. 

“Like, I’m the one on top?”

Vernon winces. “Not exactly...”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“We can make that happen.”

He lights up. “Really? That’s something you’d be into?”

“I’m into anything you’re into.”

“God, you really are perfect.”

lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!! and happy (belated) birthday <3 i hope you loved this lil present

[transmascsteveharrington]

Pjo stranger things au in which even after the gods take an oath to claim their children, Steve remains without a parent. He's a half-blood no question about that, he's been at the camp almost his whole life, has been on missions, fought honorably in battles, has the scars to show it.

Still, even after the last child at the camp has been claimed and the Hermes cabin has become surprisingly empty, Steve remains without a mark. He keeps a brave face, tries not to let his sting. His father never wanted him, why should his mother be any different?

He doesn't even mind staying in the Hermes cabin. He has been here all those years, it's become his home, his family. Now that there is enough space he even gets his own little room, right across from Eddie, whose counselor for the Hermes cabin and right after Robin and Dustin, Steve's best friend.

"Ya, know," Eddie says, arm slung around Steve, who wills his heart to beat at a normal pace, "I bet if Hermes could claim you, he would."

He is actually not that far off. The Gods are watching their children. And all of their hearts ache when they get to claim a new kid at the camp and Steve's face falls slightly as he remains without a parent. Most gods don't care about their siblings' children, but there is something about Steve the gods can't ignore. Tragic hero, so lonely, so brave, so filled with love despite everything.

There is a rumor quietly echoing through the halls of the Olymp that Steve remains unclaimed because he is Hera's child. It's a scandalous suggestion, a heinous rumor, a forbidden truth. Spreading it might be enough to cause another war. The goddess of marriage having a child with a human? Unthinkable, and yet. Everyone knows that marriage doesn't equal love, knows how spiteful Hera is, how most of her children are hated. No one could blame her for the affair really, if the rumors were true, if anything the gods are surprised she didn't snap sooner with Zeus having affairs left and right. But if the rumors were true, they definitely would blame her for not claiming Steve. Steve who protects the younger kids fiercely, how cares so much about everyone.

It hurts one goddess especially. Aphrodite looks down at Steve and aches. Aches how he thinks that he is hard to love, hard to want, always easy to leave. Who despite that fear won't stop giving pieces of his heart out, who loves so much even though it hurts. Sometimes when Aphrodite watches Steve, he already feels like one of her own. She loves her children easily, constantly, it's impossible not to for her yet at the same time she loves them on purpose. And as she watches Steve, she can't help but love him too.

She reaches her breaking point on a warm summer night. After the bonfire, Steve goes down to the lake, sits at the pier, legs pressed into his chest in a poor imitation of a hug. He looks at his reflection in the lake and wonders why. Why is he so hard to love? It's silly really, all that had happened was some new Ares kid talking to Eddie. Tall, muscular, pretty and the guy had made Eddie laugh. Steve's thoughts had spiraled from there on.

He's so busy licking his own wounds and wallowing in the feeling of not being wanted that he almost doesn't notice the goddess emerging from the lake like she had once emerged from the ocean at the cyprian shores. Steve startles when he does notice her, before he quickly bows.

"My lady," he greets her politely, always the charmer.

"There is no need for that, Steve," she says kindly and Steve looks back up at her. She is truly the epitome of beauty, dark, bouncy curls, deep brown eyes, dimples around plum lips. Steve is not stupid, knows the goddess appears in the form you most desire, he is just glad he is alone. Robin would never let him live this down.

"What can I do for you?"

"I've come to make you an offer Steve," she explains. "I want you to devote yourself to me."

Steve gasps, stares at her a little shocked. She can't blame him.

"Why would you want my devotion?"

She can tell he isn't asking why she wants devotion, but why she specifically wants his devotions, why she would want him.

"Because I love the way you love," she says with a smile. "I love the way you love and that makes me love you. I admire your devotion, the affection you hold for your friends. If I could, I would claim you as my own. But I can't, so I am offering my patronage instead."

Steve still looks a bit struck, surprised a goddess would want him like that, would appreciate the way he loves. Steve had always bounced back and forth between being too much and not being too much. No one has ever said that they loved the way he loved.

"What would being devoted to you entail?" he asks, knowing there very often is a catch when it comes to the gods.

But Aphrodite means no malice.

"It would essentially be the same as being my child. I will come to your aid, I will love you, I will lend you my gifts if needed. Only that since we are not bound by birth, you would have to take a sacred oath. Become a...paladin is the name your Eddie would use, I belive."

Steve likes the way she says it. Your Eddie. His Eddie. It sounds almost too good to be true, being wanted like that, being offered a family like that.

"Would I have to move cabins," he blurts, overwhelmed by al his emotions. Aphrodite laughs.

"Don't worry, I wouldn't dare to tear you away from the people you love so dearly. I believe you are friends with my children anways, strengthening that bond a little will be enough. But I am sure you and Chrissy will make sure of that."

"Then I take the oath," Steve decides and goes down on one knee. "I devote myself to you, goddess Aphrodite. I will worship at your altar and fulfill your quests. I am yours as you are mine."

There is a tingling sensation as he finishes his oath, warm spreads through him and he can feel himself be filled with Aphrodite's love. It's a lot. It's everything. Gently, she reaches out and cradles his face in her hand.

"Go on then, my brave little hero," she whispers. "I think you have a bonfire to return to, friends, family, your beloved."

"He isn't my beloved," Steve mumbles, blush on his cheeks.

Aphrodite just raises a brow. Steve knows she can see into his heart, he knows he can't lie to her.

"Remember that you are loved," she tells him and Steve will try his best.

He leaves the lake, a tattoo of a circle with a cross at the bottom carved into his wrist. Aphrodite watches him leave, casts a little blessing on the red string connection Steve's and Eddie's pinkie fingers. She knows her paladin doesn't need the extra help. He just needs love and she is willing to give to him all.

(part 2)

[aeithalian]

What even are the ancient laws?

I've been meaning to get around to this one for ages.

Anyways! Good question, guys! Answer: nobody fucking knows. Sure, we have good ideas. The laws are mentioned every now and then as a "oh, no little mortal child I can't help you - that's against the ancient laws. But hey! You can help me."

Let's be honest: the ancient laws, while there might be legitimate reasons for some of them, have transformed into yet another way that the gods hold themselves as the high and mighty overlords of the world, and keep their mortal offspring below them at all costs. But... why? Are the demigods really that dangerous to the gods? The answer: yes, but not to the gods - to Zeus.

Let's start from the beginning and list out everything we know about the laws. I did the hard work, you're welcome:

1. Gods cannot steal each others' symbols of power.

2. A god cannot initiate a fight with a mortal.

3. No direct interference - gods are not allowed to interfere in the lives and ongoings of mortals or monsters.

4. No more than 3 people are allowed on a quest.

5. Harming the sacred animals of a god is forbidden.

And that's it. Those are the only true mentions of the Ancient Laws in the entirety of the Riordanverse (at least, the Greco-Roman books).

And I think we all know what the most important one is. Direct Interference is the only one we see Zeus actively enforcing (or at least attempting to). But why is that? Well, stealing another god's symbol of power and initiating a battle with a mortal are physically impossible for gods, and the ban on harming a sacred animal is very commonly accepted already, as it's a guaranteed way to get your ass whooped. And the rule about having 3 on a quest isn't really something Zeus is going to spare the effort to enforce - starting a quest with more than 3 will typically guarantee that you come home with only 3, if at all.

But Direct Interference is the most interesting law, simply because it's the one that our demigod narrators are affected by the most, either in the ways their godly parents violate it, or refuse to do so.

There's plenty of instances where this law has had quite a bit of impact on the story and relationships. For example, Hermes used this law as a major reason why he could not help Luke or prevent him from raising Kronos. But let's be honest: besides Zeus himself, Hermes might be one of the only gods that actually obey this rule, despite the fact that he wants to break it. Just off the top of my head, I can name an instance in the series where every single Olympian at least toed the line of violating Direct Interference, except for maybe Demeter. And I'm not sure Dionysus counts, since he has contact with his half-blood children because of his position at CHB.

But there's something interesting even about the ways these gods break the law of Direct Interference. In most instances, these interactions with mortals happen when the god is in disguise, or through dreams. And, based on how little it seems like the gods get punished for breaking Direct Interference, we can only assume that Zeus is not aware of when gods talk to demigods via dreams. I mean, he's probably aware that it happens: Apollo, Poseidon, Hephaestus, Aphrodite, Hera, Ares (who occasionally follows the rule, but only as an excuse to not help a demigod out), Artemis (although she is subject to exceptions due to her domain), Dionysus, Athena (I think?), and Hades all do it at least once in the RRverse. I mean, you could also argue that dreams are a more indirect means if interference, but I can also see how that's an iffy argument at best.

So, what does this mean? If there is one thing I know about laws and rules in general is that people tend to break laws if the direct consequences of their own actions don't directly apply to them. Gods would probably respect the law of Direct Interference more if there was an immediate negative effect on themselves, aside from just the punishment.

Think of a law or a rule that people break all the time. Littering, for example. People do it all the time, even though it's bad. But why is it bad? A person who doesn't have a lot of forethought will drop a piece of trash and say 'hey, that doesn't affect me. The planet will suffer and this will be a pain in the ass to clean up, but I'm not the one cleaning it up, so why do I care?' If you don't care about the planet or other people cleaning up your trash, the only reason you have to not litter is that you're afraid of the punishment.

I think the attitude towards Direct Interference is similar. The only reason a god would obey is if they're afraid of the punishment, or if they respect Zeus enough to follow his laws (which, clearly, is not the norm in godly society). And even then, what is a punishment to an immortal being? The only way Zeus punishes gods that really matters to them is turning them mortal - and that's a very rare occurrence.

By that logic, we can assume that a violation of Direct Interference does not actually negatively affect gods all that much. To be honest, it doesn't negatively affect mortals either. Maybe monsters have the short end of the stick, but monsters didn't write the law of Direct Interference - Zeus did. So... why? Why does it exist?

My first thought was the Fates and prophecy - if gods can interact in mortal life without recourse, then it might fuck with the way the Fates operate. But gods have been interfering for the entirety of civilization. If they really had a the power to alter the future just by dipping a toe in mortal life, don't you think it would have been obvious? Even in the RRverse, there are plenty of instances, as I've mentioned, that gods have interfered in a quest, and said quest wasn't severely fucked over because of that interference. Take, for instance, Percy's quest to save Artemis - Apollo intervened, but where were the consequences of that? Where were the earth-shattering effects?

So what gives? Also, I'd argue that the gods would actually obey the law more if they knew it had such a negative effect on the proper functioning of the Fates, especially Apollo since that's his domain. So I'm going to say that's not the case.

So we're back to the first question: why does the law against Direct Interference exist if it has no effect on the gods or the Fates? In all references to the law against Direct Interference in the Riordanverse, never once is it explained why this law exists. Why would Zeus create it if violating it doesn't have some major world-ending effect? Gods are gods: what could make this law so important that it's the only one Zeus makes a true effort to enforce?

Well, it makes sense to me that Zeus would create the law if he's the one who has to bear the immediate consequences of it. Which raises the question: what are the immediate consequences? What reason could Zeus possibly have to separate half-blood children from their godly parents? HMmmmmmmMMMM.

Well, there's another interesting thing about the Ancient Laws: some of them don't apply to mortals. Mortals can steal a god's symbol of power, and mortals can initiate battles with gods. Imagine with me a scenario in which your enemy has an army that is not subject to the same laws you are. Gods are (as far as I know) physically incapable of stealing symbols of power and starting battles with mortals, but what does that matter if they have half-blood children that reach the power of minor gods, like Percy, who can do that for you?

It's a terrifying premise, if you're Zeus. And before you start telling me that I'm going down yet another far-fetched rabbit hole (listen - I always make sense in the end), we've seen Zeus go down this line of thought before, all the way back in The Lightning Thief. Remember???

Chiron said that the reason Zeus blamed Percy for stealing the Master Bolt was because the mines the Cyclopes used to forge the bolts is close to Poseidon's domain, and he thinks Poseidon has it out for him. Now, there's a theory running around the TOA fandom that gods can control how much power they hand off to their children (as seen with Apollo's children, who rarely inherit the power of prophecy, which we're willing to bet is something Apollo is controlling from behind the scenes), and if Zeus knew that Poseidon had had a child, it's possible Zeus thought Poseidon was trying to create a super-child just for the sake of overthrowing him. I'm willing to bet that one of his greatest fears is that an über-powerful child of one of his brothers would be used to steal his symbol of power and then overthrow him. He views demigod children like weapons that his enemies can use because they could be inherently dangerous to the standard structure of godly society. His main fear is somebody with the motivation of Luke having the power of Percy. And what do paranoid kings do when presented with the idea of their greatest fears? Make laws against them.

The only way Zeus could be sure that Poseidon would never intentionally have a child like Percy, then bring him under his wing just in time to start a rebellion against him is to ban that kind of interaction at all.

Counterpoint: you could also say that the law against Direct Interference was a way to protect the mortals against the gods who might harm them or do them dirty. Like getting women pregnant while in the form of a swan. Ahem ahem. Do you get my point, though? It's not like Zeus has any real reason to protect the mortals in this way, since he was one of the main perpetrators anyways, but it is a damn good excuse if he also wanted a reason to prevent a potential revolution led by demigods.

Now, if you'll bear with me for a little bit longer, there is one more interesting thing I'd like to point out: In the entirety of Trials of Apollo, Apollo (a god, obviously) only mentions following the Ancient Laws once. Unsurprisingly, at the time he's mentioning the law against Direct Interference, he's also violating it - when he kills Commodus to save lives, Rome, and for his own peace of mind. So, to me this basically means that Apollo doesn't give two single shits about following laws against Direct Interference.

Connect that with everything else we know about Apollo post-trials: he loves his kids, doesn't want to see them hurt, and is trying to distance himself from Zeus and godly society. Even pre-trials, he doesn't have any trouble admitting that Zeus makes his rules and laws difficult to follow - nobody is good enough in Zeus' eyes. I truly believe, if there's any person who, given the proper means and motivation to overthrow at least some aspects of the Direct Interference law, he would.

Just saying. Feel free to add on if anybody else has more thoughts!

[a masterlist of my other metas]

[seafoamaphrodite]

since it’s pride month, let’s talk about some queer Hellenic history and myths 🏳️‍🌈 ☀️ 🕊️

Apollo has been recorded to have several male lovers throughout greek mythos, including the Spartan prince Hyacinthus and the shepherd Branchus

“Shall I sing about you as a wooer, in loving liaisons,/how you would go forth courting the daughter of Azan along with/ godlike Ischys, the well horsed son of Elátios…”

— Homeric Hymn to Apollo line 205-210 tr. Rodney Merrill

Dionysus was said to have many male lovers, including his favorite Ampelos and the shepherd Polymnus (also known as Prosymnus)

“Beardless Ampelos, they say, a Nympha's and a Satyrus' (Satyr's) son, was loved by [Dionysos] on Ismarian hills… He trusted him with a vine hanging from the leaves of an elm; it is now named for the boy. The reckless youth fell picking gaudy grapes on a branch. [Dionysos] lifted the lost boy to the stars."

— Ovid’s Fasti 3.407 tr. Anthony Boyle

Iphis was born female, but raised as a male for their own safety. this leaves some question as to their “gender identity”, in modern terms, but they are undoubtedly queer. Iphis fell in love with the beautiful woman Ianthe, and prayed to be made a man so they could marry. their wish was granted by Isis, Hera, or Aphrodite (epithets and regional mythologies differ)

“The ram inflames the ewe, and every doe follows a chosen stag; so also birds are mated, and in all the animal world no female ever feels love passion for another female—why is it in me?"

— Ovid’s Metamorphoses, section 9

Hermaphroditus was said to be the son of Hermes and Aphrodite. Hermaphroditus is, by modern terms, intersex. they have male genitalia with female breasts, and their name is the origin of the word “hermaphrodite”. “Aphroditus” is also used as an epithet of Aphrodite, representative of androgyny and gender fluidity

please keep in mind that our perception of gender and sexuality differs greatly from that of the ancient greco-romans. and as always, myths and sources differ! these were just a few interesting stories i found and wanted to share for pride month! 🩷

happy pride, everyone 💌🦢

[xoxochb]

⋆·˚ ༘ * they got no idea about me and you

warnings: this chapter kinda sucks but I fear this and the next are probably the slowest chapters, I also want to apologize for anyone who didn’t get added on the tag list I either lost where you asked or your tags were off

pairing: percy jackson x daughter of hades and persephone

series master list

hiding percy jackson from your parents was not an easy task, especially when it would be for two whole days. this morning was easy since everyone had been busy with wedding preparations, you got dressed like usual and went to breakfast like everyday

your father had to leave today to ‘speak to the young prince marrying my daughter’ - it didn’t matter, he was gone and that’s all that mattered. on the other hand you had to go to olympus to try on wedding dresses, along with the actual wedding taking place in a week (hera had insisted the wedding be held at her palace since she’s the goddess of marriage) which means percy had to also find a way to stay out of zeus’ eyesight if he wished to keep his life

you had told him to meet you at the palace this afternoon, which means you had time to get settled and start a game of croquet with nico, which is the point in your schedule you had just now reached

“don’t you think it’s risky letting percy stay here?” your brother asks, hitting his first ball- it just about reaches the hoop but stops in time for it to go through, he throws a internal tantrum

you laugh at his failure “I’ve got it under control”

you steady your mallet behind the ball and with a swift move it rolls through the hoop. you proceed to hoop two

“I don’t think I like this game” nico complains

you hit his head with your free hand “that’s because you’re not good at it”

he rolls his eyes and begins his turn. the ball- yet again- does not make it through and he takes a deep breath to suppress is anger. he drops his mallet and begins to walk, you follow his actions

“when is percy going to arrive?” he asks, changing the subject

“I’m not sure. lemonade while we wait?”

“of course”

you make your way to the patio where your lemonade had been waiting. the queen said it was for after the game but she was nowhere to be found and you supposed the game had been finished anyways. you pull out a chair and take a seat, picking up a glass of lemonade and taking a sip, nico does similarly

“how are you going to hide him?”

“why do you seem to care more about hiding percy than I am?”

“I’m your brother. your worries are my worries”

you sigh and place the cup back on the table. a worrisome silence fills the area, perhaps you should tell percy not to come anymore. although you had thought out many intricate plans to hide the boy, you couldn’t help but worry he would be caught

and lost in reverie, you don’t realize the very subject of your thoughts standing behind you until his hands are placed on your shoulders. you gasp and tilt your head up to face him

“it took you long enough” you tease

he laughs and places a kiss on your lips, nico fakes a gag and leaves with his lemonade in hand. percy sits in the seat your brother got up from, taking your lemonade from the table he takes a sip

“what’s the schedule for today?” he inquires

“well you missed croquet, now it’s ‘lemonade time’ then I have lunch with zeus and hera, and I’m free for the rest of the day. that is- until tomorrow, I’ve got wedding dress try-ons” you explain

he nods as a sign that he’s listening. for the rest of your free time you sit in silence, that was until your free time was up and you had lunch with the king and queen- a very awkward one may you add. hera was very talkative, many many questions about the wedding about the boy you would be marrying, who you still knew barely anything about, who you also have not even seen since the night you danced with him

after lunch you were free for the rest of the day until dinner that night. you got to complete a book in the long period between the two, percy permanently glued to your side, for what reason- you’re unsure. you suppose it might have been out of jealousy since you were going to marry another man, or perhaps just because he loved you. maybe even a mix between the two of these options- regardless he still would not leave you alone

that night you slept well, that was until morning when you woke up by peppered kisses to your face

“perseus what are you doing?”

“you sleep a lot”

you push him off of you and he fakes a pout

“I have a busy day”

you attempt to get up but percy’s arm around your waist stops you

“I will let you watch me try on dresses”

he lets go and you successfully stand up this time. he watches as you make your way to the dresser- he also watched as you changed but you would hit him if he told you that

he waited an hour as you had breakfast downstairs, scanning through your books, he wonders what you saw in reading. although he couldn’t read himself so he had no right to speak

when you got back you had brought a plethora of white dresses, throwing them onto your bed

“let’s get started, shall we?”

he nods and sits on the edge of your bed ‘the most perfect view for the show’ he says

the first dress you try on is short, too short for a wedding so you move onto the next: a longer dress, you could never walk in that. the next dresses were mixtures of everything you shouldn’t wear to your wedding, however you finally decided on one after many hours. it was strapless, maybe too revealing for a wedding, but it was the perfect length and you were actually able to walk in this one (percy also said this was his favorite but you wouldn’t tell him that’s the main reason you chose it)

“should I really choose this one? do you think my father will hate it?” you say worriedly

percy stands up and places his hands on your waist along with a kiss to your bare shoulder

“It’s perfect, you look beautiful”

“you said I looked beautiful in every dress I tried on”

“that’s because you are”

a pink hue adorns your face, you look down in an attempt to hide it but percy lifts your chin up to look at him, faces so close you were sure your heart would best out of your chest any moment

after what feels like forever (it was about five seconds) he finally places his lips on yours, you let out a sigh of relief and contentment and wrap your arms around his neck to keep him close

the moment was almost perfect, and it would have been completely if your brother hadn’t walked in and you had to hurriedly part from each other

nico’s expression is a mix of disgust and worry- you wonder what had been so urgent that he had to walk in without knocking- but alas you got the news very quickly

“your soon-to-be husband is here, he wants to see you”

taglist: @lara20aral @itzmeme

[evesetchings]

So in @novalizinpeace’s poppy playtime au, specifically in the cartoon portion, the critters have these magic pendants that give them certain abilities. This isn’t limited to the gang, and all sorts of different pendants exist for different characters, but there’s a catch.

In this post, they talk about how if the magic in the pendant overwhelms a critter, it can transform them into a myth, a magical, monstrous being with incredible power, but can sometimes be incredibly dangerous to the people around them.

So I decided to take the 8 main critters and turn them into horrible little beasties for my amusement, and now I wish to show you guys the fruits of my labor.

tw for mild body horror and psychological horror under the cut

Dogday - Sol

This is the only ‘canon’ myth critter that exists in the au. Every time Dogday is pushed past his limit and gets too angry with something he transforms into sol, who is a mindless flaming warrior with no logic or regard for their surroundings. This leads to them being pretty dangerous to be around, but Sol isn’t evil, they just want to protect their user from any harm, and if left to their own devices, would probably self-isolate to protect themselves (and others) from harm.

2. Hoppy Hopscotch - Notus

The first of my original designs. Notus is the transformed version of Hoppy, and has the same weather manipulation powers, just to a much larger degree. Although she mostly uses it to make her storms larger. Notus’s mental state is much more stable than Sol (relatively), specifically in that she can remember her past life, but not specific people, so friends and even family are hardly whispers in her mind, if even that. She is quite competitive, viewing her storms as a contest to see how big she can make them, and will never back down from a challenge, doing everything in her power to win, but she is also a graceful loser, and hates cheaters. Her name comes from the Greek god of south winds, who is associated with wetness and the coming of rains.

3. Bubba bubbaphant - Ganesha

This guy’s name comes from the Hindu deity of new beginnings and the patron of the sciences and arts, who is also represented by a man with an elephant’s head and four arms. His mental state is similar to that of Notus, in that he can remember specific events from his past, but not people. He has become incredibly intelligent, being able to solve complex equations and understand lots of different subjects, but his already prevalent neuroticism has been turned up to eleven, with even the slightest infraction driving him to a rage, which can make him incredibly dangerous to deal with, but also rewarding, as his intellect allows him to answer many questions. He can also spin webs, because spider.

4. Bobby Bearhug - Callisto

Callisto is a little different from the other myths. She can remember her name, and her past, and the people around her, but only sometimes. You see, her pendant’s natural power is to absorb the excess emotion around her, and it still does that, but if she absorbs to much, then it leads to her transformation into a massive bear like monster with one goal, to make the excess stop by any means necessary. This has led to her voluntary exile in order to stop herself from hurting the people around her, which causes Bobby a great deal of pain, but it’s better than letting herself hurt the people she cares about the most. Her name comes from a nymph who was transformed into (what else) a bear by a furious Hera.

5. Pickypiggy - Limos

Unlike most of the others, Limos can hardly remember who she once was, much less the people in her life or what they mean to her. Instead she is driven by her one deepest instinct: to care and provide for the people around her. She works tirelessly to cook and prepare extravagant meals for anyone who might need it, leading to her neglecting her own health and her living environment. She also has to deal with a ravenous hunger that pains her every moment, and often leads her to devouring her dishes as soon as she finished, causing even further distress. Her name comes from the Greek goddess of starvation, which i don’t think is a very good comparison, but I can’t think of anything better, so eh.

6. KickinChicken - The Roc

Kickin’s transformed state is probably the least actively dangerous to be around. He’s a large, powerful bird capable of flying incredibly fast, as well as being incredibly loud and aggressive, but never actively harmful. His mental state is kind of the opposite of Notus and Ganesha, in that he can remember specific people and places, but not his past nor his name, and goes out of his way to try and help others. The key word being ‘try’, as his loud and aggressive demeanor often end up causing more damage than assistance. His name comes from an Arabian creature that is described as a bird of prey large enough to carry an elephant, which I thought was a good choice, and I couldn’t find any mythological chickens that really fit him.

7. Craftycorn - Apophis

Her name comes from an Egyptian monster that is said to be the embodiment of chaos and disorder, although Crafty is significantly less malevolent than her mythological counterpart. The main effect of her presence is the chaotic shifting of her environment, colors swapping and shapes changing into maelstrom of chaos around her, with the effect getting stronger the closer you get towards her, and any critter who does so has the very real risk of being torn apart. Apophis herself isn’t doing much better, with her entire body constantly melting into multicolored goop that has a consistency similar to that of candle wax. Not much is known about her mental state, as no one is brave enough to get close to her for risk of being killed, but there has to be something left of her as her maelstrom very much has the capacity to expand over the entire world and destroy it, the only reason it hasn’t is because Crafty appears to be holding it back through sheer force of willpower.

8. Catnap - Ouranos

Ouranos is probably the one who’s the most ‘in there’, besides Callisto in her non murder mode. He can remember his past life quite clearly and the people in them. In fact the only difference between him and normal Catnap is that Ouranos is slightly more apathetic towards outside events. He’s floated off into space and now observes to world from the heavens, watching as everything drifts by, because he can’t exactly leave. He can, however, see his friends suffering, and wishes he had the capability to help them in any way he could.

Once again thanks to @novalizinpeace for the au and all concepts belong to her.

[pelideswhore]

If the apple of discord was thrown down at the wedding feast of Peleus and Thetis, how did Achilles, their son, fight in the Trojan war? The timeline does not make sense to me unless you just chalk that up to the timing of the Eternal, Deathless Gods but mortals are involved. Like Paris is presumably asked right after the wedding to judge who gets the apple then he picks Aphrodite who has promised him the most beautiful woman. Does she like wait to find out who that is and that causes the delay? The story seems to go that she promises Helen, they kidnap Helen and then the war begins so like that’s a year tops in my mind but how would that give Achilles time to become the teenager he is in the war? Please help. If there is a definitive answer excellent but I also just want theories.

i really love love love this question, cus i’ve thought about it a lot, especially because i consider Paris and Achilles to be around the same age, which, as you said, would make no sense.

sadly, i don’t have a definitive answer, but i do have a theory. it’s quite long though so buckle up.

As you probably know, Aphrodite, Hera and Athena asked Zeus to solve the issue before resorting to Paris. Zeus couldn’t answer and by the timeline of the Gods, many mortal years had passed so Paris would have been born, sent away from the palace and had enough time to grow up at this point. Ares suggests him, the goddesses ask and Paris gets bribed. But he doesn’t take Helen straight away, because he’s still a goatherd at this point.

Before I finish with that, let’s get back to Achilles. One would probably assume that within the first year of Thetis’ and Peleus’ marriage, he was already born, but that’s actually not true. The couple had six sons before Achilles, but they all passed away somehow (which, i like to think, is the reason Thetis is so protective). That means, even if they all died on Day 1 of their life and Thetis conceived the very same day: 9 months x 6 = 54 months aka. 4,5 years. That’s at least 4 and a half years before Achilles was born, but I think I can safely assume it took a little longer. Let’s say 6 years (which btw is still unrealistic and would probably be horrible for Thetis’ health but I digress).

So now, Achilles is born, stuff happens: Achilles meets Phoenix and Patroclus, he gets sent to Chiron, and eventually Scyros etc. Let’s say he’s 17 when that happens. Still a teen, but old enough to get Deidamia pregnant. Realistically, Thetis would only send him away when the threat of the war is imminent, so Helen’s kidnapping happens when Achilles is 17. I tend to say Helen was around 24, Paris was maybe 21. I believe however that the Judgement of Paris happened a couple years before.

Because, consider, Paris picks Aphrodite as a goatherd, but he kidnaps Helen as a prince. So somewhere in between, Cassandra must've found him and brought him back. He then had to get used to royal life, but, more importantly, all the ships had to be ready to go to Sparta. It could've happened in a couple of days, but a couple of years isn't unrealistic either, and it fits the timeline better.

It's a bit all over the place, so here's summary:

0 years: Peleus' and Thetis' wedding, Golden Apple incident (Paris/Achilles not born)

2 years: Paris is born and abandoned.

6 years: Achilles is born.

19 years: The Judgement of Paris happens, Paris is still a goatherd.

23 years: Paris kidnaps Helen, start of the war, Achilles is aged 17

The only time ‘divine timing’ really plays a role is between the wedding the Judgement of Paris. In divine timing 19 years is nothing, just enough time for Zeus and Ares to get involved. Paris would’ve probably already held one or two bullfights at the age of 17 when he is chosen to judge between the goddesses and from then on everything runs pretty smoothly, bearing in mind the 4 years between Aphrodite promising Helen to him and Paris actually kidnapping Helen.

sorry it took so long to post this, had to get my thoughts in check then type it up :D

[hannicorpse]

stupid cupid.

kim rian x fem reader | wc: 0.7k | genre: drama, romanceish | warnings: none

note : written in 3rd person because i dont like using y/n

you couldnt say you were one to believe in theoretical situations. but, after one day out with your friends, you recall how woojin said cupid could sometimes miss when shooting his arrow. you thought it was silly, but later began to think about how it was possible.

ever since you and your friends were young, it was a well known fact between you, woojin, and hera, that you had a huge crush on rian. to others, it seemed obvious. but to rian? he was completely oblivious. for most of your childhood, he only ever had eyes on jae-i.

after jae-i came back from the states and back to school, of course, people only saw her as the queen of jooshin. so when you heard from hera that rian had been dumped at the racetrack, (after you weren’t able to make it), she was determined to help you dethrone jae-i.

maybe cupid was able to shoot his arrow twice, because you’ve never felt this close to having such an opportunity.

despite growing up in the same friend group, rian has always seemed to be the most distant from you. so naturally, you were beyond surprised when he had reached out to you after the break up.

rian 💞 : help me

you : with what?

rian 💞 : help me win back jae-i

you: surprised ur not asking woojin

rian 💞 : he doesnt get girls. and hera would just sabotage me. again.

‘is he serious right now?’ you thought to yourself with your brows furrowed. ‘how desperate..’

you: come to my house

rian had you left you on read for 15 minutes. and you didn’t doubt the fact that you knew he was already on his way.

as if right on schedule, there he was, already knocking on your door.

“so will you help me, or not?” rian asked impatiently as he followed you upstairs to your room.

“fine. you wanna win her back? make her jealous.” you briefly suggested, walking into your room and guiding him to sit on your bed. “how?”

“you saw how she was with that scholarship kid at the party. she didn’t even push him off. she wants to get under your skin. so get under hers. like, fake a relationship or something.”

“i don’t know if i want that. but if i were to go with it, who would it be?” he questioned, with a confused look on his face.

“well, since you asked, ill do it.” you replied, biting back a small grin.

“you cant be serious.”

“it wont work if it’s not believable. why? am i not worthy of the king of jooshin?”

“that’s not what i’m saying,” rian scoffed. “i mean, i see your point, but this sounds like a plan b.” “looks like she’s gonna need a plan b pill with that scholarship kid if you don’t make a move.”

“fine. i’ll do it.”

it was nearly impossible to stop yourself from smiling as much as you did, but you managed to contain yourself (for the most part).

the next day initiated the first step of your plan to ‘help’ rian ‘win back’ jae-i.

step one. make it seem like you’re dating in front of everyone.

step two. the news goes school wide and it reaches jae-i

step three. jae-i realizes what she did and apologizes to rian so they get back together.

rian picked you up from your house so you could enter school together. but when you received a text from hera about how jae-i walked into school holding hands with the scholarship kid, you just had to let rian know. his blood almost boiled when you told him the news. he realized, he’d soon have to step up and try harder.

when you walked through jooshins entrance, hand in hand with rian, the news spread like a wildfire. even more than jae-i and the scholarship kid. your phone was blowing up with notifications from the schools gossip page.

kim2004 : rian and jaei are no more?

0808leelvv : so much for king and queen

kang04oo : you guys wont believe who dethroned jaei

with rian and woojin on the school football team, naturally, it meant you and hera would follow as cheerleaders.

“big game today, good luck.” you whispered to rian as you saw jae-i passing by, being extra sure to kiss his cheek when you knew she was looking. she subtlety rolled her eyes, before turning back around in the opposite direction to go towards the bleachers.

the game was nearing its end, and jooshin was 3 points down. but when woojin passed the ball to rian, he was determined to get a touchdown. he shoved and hurdled over any player who got in his way, taking all his previous anger and transferring it as motivation to get across the field.

nothing less of the expectations set for him, rian scored a touchdown, ultimately winning the game.

he ignores his clamoring teammates celebrating their victory, immediately going towards you. rian throws his helmet to the side and pulls you in by the waist, connecting your lips in a deep kiss.

you heard hera and woojin teasing you two in the background, but it didn’t seem to matter. in this moment, the moment you’ve fantasized about for oh so long, was here, and it was real. it was just you, and rian.

for a second, you felt that this wasn’t something to piss off jae-i. this was real. and rian felt the same way.

[call-sign-shark]

Hi Shark 💓 I saw your post with the three word sentences and I'd like to request 6. "Be gentle, please." with Tommy. If you're more comfortable with writing for a different character then you're obviously free to do so! 🥰

Hi Daisy! Here we go dear 🥰 Finger crossed, I hope you'll enjoy that Tommy x Reader blurb! Honestly, I really enjoyed writing it.

Words: 993

TW: Smut content but no actual pornographic descriptions, mentions of murder, ambiguous ending (the ending is up to you), reader is nicknamed Hera.

Fire spread under your skin as his strong and calloused hands ran down your naked back to grab your hips in a bruising grip. How did you end up here, laying on the giant fur carpet in front of a fire place with Birmingham’s most infamous gangster touching you? The question had been playing on repeat in your buzzing skull the moment he had laid his fingers on you. A feverish sigh escaped from your quivering lips when Tommy’s hips crashed against yours. The wet caress of his tongue left goosebumps in its trail each time you would feel it on the sensitive flesh of your bosom. It was like the dancing flames of the fireplace, whose hungry tongues of blaze licked the logs that were feeding them until all remained was ashes. You clenched your fist in his dark hair, squeezing your eyes shut and throwing your head back at ocean of pleasure that was drowning you each time his hips moved. As you made love in his living room, the melody of your sighs and flesh snapping filling the room and swirling up to the ceiling, you still tried to gather all your remaining strength to hang on the reason behind your meeting.

“Hera…” He moaned against your breasts, the vibrations of his hoarse voice echoing in your whole ribcage and shattering your bones in a sensual earthquake. Your toes curled as his pace, slow and gentle at first, quickened. Lost in a maze of feelings and lust, your hand left his hair and joined the other one on his broad and muscular back.

“Deeper.” You hissed through your teeth as your nails dug in his skin and pierced his flesh. Your voice, eternally collected, was now shaken by a light tremor you hated to hear. You sounded begging. You sounded desperate. You sounded weak. And only God knew how you despised weakness. Well, not only God but also Luca Changretta, to be true. When the godfather of the American branch of the Sicilian mafia took you under his protective wing, he called you Hera — queen of gods, and furious dishonored wife of a monster. Besides him and a few capo, no one knew where you came from and why Changretta had a soft spot for you. Yet, the story behind your relationship was tragic.

He saw you one dreary summer night, crying outside of the church in your magnificent white dress stained with little crimson droplets. From what he had understand, you had caught your future husband cheating the day of your wedding and he was so enraged you found out about his secret affairs that he had beaten you until your legs collapsed and until your body was black and blue. When Luca Changretta cupped your face and laid a protective kiss on your forehead, he made you a promise: no other men would hurt you again, for he would make the most terrifying and beautiful monster out of you. Luca dived in your eyes and smiled, and as he did Y/N vanished in the aid of this new fierce entity that was now inhabiting you.They said Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and how right they were.

“Fuck —“ Tommy swore, at the edge of climax. All of his muscles tensed under the coiling and maddening pleasure that was consuming him — but Thomas Shelby was as stubborn as you were, and he hated to show any sign of weakness even more than you. That was why he choked his moans against your mouth and let his tongue force its way between your juicy lips. You scratched his back in response, small beads of blood darkening your nails. His pace was now frantic and brutal, turning your love making into more a battle than anything else. Sex was a fight you were both fiercely decided to win. But if Tommy had the rage of winning, you had the disgust of losing.

“Let it go, little boy…” You whispered against his mouth, waving your hips like a dancing succubus willing to milk him from his life. Your victory became evident as you felt Tommy’s legs shaking. He sunk his teeth in your lower lip and growled like an animal as he gave in — blown away by the fiery blaze of his little death, the gangster felt tears dawning at the corner of his turquoise eyes when he came. The burning sensation was so unbearable at some point he thought he was in hell. But was it really hell if he liked the way it burned?

You smirked, enjoying the end of the war you’ve just won.

Tommy and you were now sharing a cigarette, both naked and sitting on the comfortable rug while watching the dying flames that were flickering in the hearth. But despite the doubt that had started to plague your cold mind, you mentally repeated the mantra you lived by for years: You have to rise above the squabbling and chaos, and keep believing. You have to always keep your goals in mind… And your goal was to murder Tommy Shelby.

Why?

Because you were the most terrifying and skilled hitman of America, and someone had paid you to kill him.

And you were heartless.

You had not always been like this though… But the young eighteen years old crying princessa Changretta had almost raised had met the same demise as her savior: she was no longer alive. All remained was the still smoking ashes of a maimed heart and an empty body only animated by pure anger.

Tommy had barely stubbed out his cigarette in the crystal ashtray nearby when you pressed the cold blade of your knife against the fragile flesh of his throat. Yet, he did not seem surprised. Nor afraid. Quite the contrary, Thomas Shelby was tired. Just… Tired. He looked at you, his sky blue eyes staring into the void that constituted yours, and parted his lips to speak.

“Be gentle, please.”

That was all he said.

Somehow, he did not mind to die if the last embrace given to him was soft — even if it came from Death herself. You could kill him, it did not matter anymore, as long as you were as no one else since Grace had been with him: gentle.

You pulled him in your arms, hugging his exhausted frame in a final clasp, and tightened your grip around the knife.

Fine, you thought, I’ll be gentle then.

[luxthestrange]

RoR Y/n's Thoughts#3

Y/n: Dude have you ever felt bugs on you...when there are no bugs on you?....they're the ghosts of the bugs you killed...

Hades:Y/N THIS HAS GOT TO STOP!?

Y/n: If you clean a vacuum cleaner...ARENT YOU the vacuum cleaner?

Hermes: Y/-Y/n you got to end this! alright, you already got Father and Ares in the other room QUESTIONING EVERYTHING THEY EVER KNOWN!?

-In the other room-

Ares:...What is life?...*Is on the floor hugging his blanket and looking at the ceiling*

Zeus*Is still in an existential crisis courtesy of you*...Am I...actually insignificant?...

-Back to where you and the other Greek gods are seated*

Y/n: Nothing is REALLY on fire but rather...fire is ON things...

Hades: Let's do Ragnarok they said...it be EASY they said...

Y/n: If Life is unfair to everyone...Does that mean Life is actually fair?

Heracles*Sighs and looks at Adamas who is drinking wine*This...is never gonna end is it?

Adamas:...Should it?...KEEP GOING BABE!~*Cheering you on*

Poseidon:...Zeus, Ares make room I am coming in there with you*Opening the door and entering it*

Adamas: YES THEY GOT HIM TOO!*Holds hand smirking at Hera*

Hera:...I dont mind losing this bet*Gives Adamas 5 bucks and smirks as Zeus is heard crying in the other room*

Adamas betted Poseidon would also fall victim to you along with Zeus and hades, Hera better Poseidon wouldn't...she enjoyed losing that bet tbh

Part 3 of:

[rookiesbookies]

Greek God!Price x MaidenFem!Reader pt 2

Masterlist is pinned as always and please submit any requests to my inbox I dont bite

She had always been nervous around men, in her village they had always seemed rude and misogynist. Women were a commodity, their value based on purity and age. But Price was different. He treated her with respect and tenderness, making her feel safe and cherished. It was a new experience for her, and she couldn't help but feel nervous about it.

As she lay there, wide awake, she couldn't help but notice Price's movements in his sleep. He had gone from a respectful distance to spooning her side, his warm body pressed against hers. It was both comforting and unsettling at the same time.

She had agreed to spend the night in his bed, a decision that made her anxious. Changing in his master bathroom, she had put on one of his white undershirts that barely covered her upper-mid thigh. She worried about him seeing her exposed, about her own vulnerability in this unfamiliar situation.

The clock on the wall ticked away, reminding her of the late hour. She shivered, feeling the coldness of the room seep into her bones. Despite Price's warm body heat and the thick blankets, she couldn't find comfort. Her mind was preoccupied with thoughts of her nipples showing through the shirt or the possibility of her underwear being revealed.

But amidst her restlessness, she couldn't help but appreciate Price's gentle and kind nature. It was a stark contrast to her past experiences with the men who had tried to court her - often older and looking for a young housewife to act as a slave due to their wealth. She found herself slowly letting go of her fears and embracing the unfamiliar warmth that he offered.

Price stood out among the men she had encountered. He possessed a genuine gentlemanly demeanor that made her wonder if all gods were like him.

As her mind aimlessly drifted, she couldn't help but become fixated on Price's physique. Questions began to swirl in her thoughts, particularly about what lay beneath that thick sweater he now slept in. Were his muscles well-defined, sculpted from hours of hard work and dedication? Or were they hidden beneath a layer of softness, adding a touch of comfort to his appearance? The curiosity grew stronger, fueling her imagination as she envisioned the possibilities. It was a tantalizing mystery, one that she couldn't help but ponder, wondering if one day she would have the chance to uncover the truth.

As her mind wandered, it delved even deeper into his physical attributes, specifically focusing on what he possessed between his legs. Questions arose about its thickness, length, girth, and whether it was thin or substantial. She pondered whether he preferred a clean-shaven look or if his hair was coarse yet well-maintained, similar to his facial hair. Curiosity arose about the presence of freckles and whether it leaned towards one direction or the other. She wondered if it was pale or tan, what color the tip was. These thoughts consumed her mind, leaving her with a multitude of unanswered questions.

Her cheeks flushed with warmth as she realized the direction her thoughts were taking. It felt criminal. It was inappropriate to think of a man in such a way, especially someone like Price who was so sweet and such a gentleman. She began to question her own feelings towards him, fearing that she might be falling for a man who deserved a woman equally as remarkable to be his eternal partner. She pondered the qualities that would make a woman worthy of Price's affection. Would she need to possess extraordinary beauty, intelligence, or perhaps a combination of both?

The weight of her own self-doubt began to settle upon her, as she questioned whether she could ever measure up to the standards she imagined Price had. Perhaps he was waiting for some magic spark to ignite, maybe Eros to strike them with arrows to let him know it was meant to be or a letter hand-written from Aphrodite or Hera with approval. Something he seemingly so desired based on his adamant refusal of the other sacrificial women he considered for brides. He even said it himself, he wanted someone closer to his physical age to keep for an eternity as a partner, not just a wife.

Lost in her thoughts, she yearned for a sign, a glimpse into Price's true nature. She longed to know if he was as extraordinary as he appeared, or if her infatuation was merely a figment of her imagination, the facade of a god. Only time would reveal the answers she sought, and until then, she would continue to question her own worthiness of a god like Price.

He shifted again in his sleep, pulling her closer. His beard tickling against her neck, he took a deep breath. She couldn't help but think about the advice her friends had given her as a teenager. They had told her that men could determine if they wanted to marry a girl by the end of their first date. As she lay there, she wondered if the dinner they had just shared counted as a date. Did it hold any significance or was it just a casual outing with his friends? Her mind raced as she rubbed her legs together and nervously bit her lip. Being in such close proximity with a man was a new experience for her.

Suddenly, he began to stir in his sleep, a soft grunt escaping his mouth. Startled, she realized he was awake. "Why aren't you asleep?" he questioned, his voice filled with curiosity. "Humans need a good deal of sleep compared to us gods."

Her heart skipped a beat as she tried to come up with a response. "I... I couldn't sleep," she stammered, her voice barely audible. "I guess I'm just not used to... this."

He looked at her intently, his eyes filled with understanding. "It's okay," he said softly, reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair behind her ear. "We can take things slow. There's no rush."

As he held her close, she felt a warm and comforting feeling, giving her hope for a happy future. Could this amazing man be the one she would marry? And, by some lucky chance, did he really understand her deepest desires?

Finally, she drifted into a peaceful slumber, feeling a sense of tranquility and optimism. The man she had discovered, whom she might be falling in love with, had filled her heart with hope and affection. The thought of marrying him brought her immense joy and contentment. He was truly remarkable, and she could only wish that he felt the same way about her. Thankfully, it seemed like he did, and that realization filled her with even more happiness.

[kanansdume]

I continue to be on Senator Xiono's side over Hera's which is a REALLY frustrating position to be in.

Hera, you cannot tell Xiono that he isn't "seeing" the problem when you are literally SHOWING HIM NOTHING. You HAVE nothing to show, so how the FUCK could he see what isn't there? He's not omniscient, and if you have no proof of your claims, why SHOULD he believe you? Just because you used to be a Rebel? They've stated that you are personally invested in this mission, you've used Republic resources like six times to go on a mission that is basically just so you can try to find one person you care about and failed six times, you apparently repeatedly disrespect the orders you're given from Republic leadership, so why should Xiono just... trust you?

This is SO frustrating because it makes NO FUCKING SENSE for Hera to be getting all high and mighty about this when Xiono's RIGHT to question her. This would be a way more interesting plot if it wasn't being presented as just "Hera vs. The Asshole Senator" but an actual nuanced storyline where Hera and Xiono are BOTH RIGHT. Thrawn IS out there and he IS a threat, but Xiono is ALSO right to point out that Hera's abusing Republic resources and disrespecting Republic resources for a personal agenda and has no proof of her own claims.

They COULD'VE gone down the route that Hera is so caught up in this mission that she's sort-of losing her perspective and is now reaping the consequences of those choices. Maybe we see a role reversal where it's SABINE who is trying to talk Hera into being more reasonable about it and let Ezra go or something. But noOoOoOoOo we HAVE to have this whole terrible storyline about how the New Republic SUCKS and is basically the Empire by another name and everyone who runs it are IDIOTS or lazy rich assholes who will drive it into the ground in a few years. Individually, some of the New Republic people are okay, but as an organization, it's too flawed and it needed to catch up with the times to keep from falling.

Sound familiar?

[evilios]

What do you think of the new Epic saga?

Hi, hon! 🌻

I appreciate you letting me Epic rant on the main, I'll keep it under the cut for my dear mutuals and followers' mental stability (some spoilers):

I should say: I separate Epic from Homeric texts. If it was loosely based on the Odyssey back in the Troy Saga, it's entirely its own thing now. Which is not bad! It's just different and it handles its own questions and problems.

Overall, I think it was good. It has its downsides (a little below on that) but I do like the hard work put into the musical. It's not exactly easy to put events of hundreds upon hundreds lines of an epic poem into five songs, so I'm not harsh on it.

I presume that everything Jorge showed on the livestream is what is more or less firmly canon within his musical (visually and lore wise) so with that in mind:

I think he nailed Telemachus. I love this boy, he's my everything. He's young, sweet, protective, he's just lovely. Legendary was my favorite when it existed in snippets and cut videos, it is still one of my favorite songs. The "I want" songs are always fun and Telemachus is very much a Disney prince singing from his magical tower. It's fun!

I see what Jorge did with Antinous being older than Telemachus in the musical which is, well, he had to sacrifice something. I'm guessing letting a guy around Telemachus' age sing about planning to wife up his mom would be weird. But! The only reason I'm bringing it up is that the potential ship dynamic/chemistry between epic Telemachus and Antinous would have been insane if they were around the same age. But, again, I understand the change.

Antinous' voice is also everything.

I like Telemachus' dynamic with Athena in the musical. It's a little closer than in the epics, a little more lighthearted. He doesn't really know about the weight on her shoulders but he's hospitable, sweet, and kind. We'll be Fine is a good song.

This is overall an "Athena's character development arc" saga to me. I see she's repeatedly mirrored to Odysseus, regretting her decisions/being too harsh and all. Jorge can't stop making parallels but! I'm a slut for parallel plotlines, so I like that. Myth Odysseus' usual mirror is Agamemnon but... he doesn't really fully exist in the realm of the musical so I see why they picked Athena, it's an interesting choice.

I could be Calypso's love in paradise 😔

No like she's so pretty. I know she's morally questionable (modernity-wise) but. She is so pretty. Her hair is so pretty. She's so bubbly, I'm so obsessed with her.

I don't think the clock-reverse thing needed to be in her song, it kind of messes with the tempo. I can see how it will work out on stage if Epic is ever in theater, but I'm still 50/50 about that part. Overall, Love in Paradise is catchy as hell!

From the visuals Jorge showed, I assume Calypso was physically close to Odysseus in this version too. Which, coupled with Athena claiming he never cheated, brings me to two different thoughts: a). They were physically close but he didn't have intimacy with her b). Athena does not consider forced intimacy cheating and I'm definitely for the second one, Odysseus' S/A is important.

God Games... torn on this one. A bit too short to my liking BUT will work out on stage. I can see how you could use stage lights + physical space to reconstruct it. Song length wouldn't matter as much.

I love short haired dark haired Apollo, it's like Jorge requested his version of the God to be distinct. His argument also IS SO UNSERIOUS. Like he's there only because Daddy asked him isn't he.

I'm glad Helios' cattle was not brought up as some people expected (and as I feared), Jorge knows his source material.

Hephaestus is absolutely too sweet for this world. I'm not sure if his bit with loyalty is about Hera myth or Aphrodite myth or something else... but it was sweet.

Aphrodite can have my heart on a plate. Fully. I don't care. Her bit is my favorite + I love that she's more pissed off about Odysseus "betraying" familial love rather than blaming him for, idk, potentially sleeping with Calypso or something.

Ares has an amazing voice though I keep wondering about his point. We know Odysseus didn't fight Scylla because a). There's no point in fighting Scylla b). He was planning to betray his crew. A part of me wants to think Ares is pissed because he sacrificed his comrades instead of fighting for them, it is cowardly.

I like their little fighting sequence, really shows Athena's ready to throw down in a fight if needed.

Hera is gorgeous stunning show stopping etc. I like her bit, it's not really serious, like Apollo's, but I don't see why it would be. Odysseus isn't really her business and he is a notable hero, she doesn't need to test him as one. But she needs to test him as a husband! Which is lovely.

Zeus would never hurt Athena I refuse to believe that part /lh

Overall? It's good. A bit clunky/compressed but good. Thunder one is still my favorite but the Athena Saga was good, gave my girl some more depth.

[anotheroceanid]

You can't tell me that the big six don't turn into kids at least once a month and just watch Jason and Percy's home comfort.

Hestia, Demeter, and Hera turn into teenagers, Hades, Poseidon and Zeus - in young children.[This is the only time Zeus has ever admitted in any way that he is the youngest].

And they're just watching Jason and Percy lead their little lives.

Percy cooks in the kitchen, his dainty fingers gently mixing the ingredients to make an apple pie for dinner, while Jason gently flirts with him, trying to steal sliced apples.

It looks so gentle and homely-Jason's hands on Percy's waist, Percy's light playful laugh, Jason's nose in Percy's hair, Jason's kisses on Percy's bare shoulders and the trusting pressing of Percy's crown to Jason's neck.

And the older Olympians imagine themselves as children watching the PDA of their parents.

they even have a one-sided dialogue - Hestia advises "mom" to add a little cinnamon to honey so that it is both spicy and sweet, Hera asks "dad" if he will come to her performance in the school choir, Hades blushes and asks "parents" to be more modest, Zeus irritably asks if dinner will be ready soon...

Hestia, Demeter, Hera, Hades, Poseidon and Zeus deep down, are still children who yearn to have parents.

This is so saaaaad 😭😭😭 let me make it sadder 😈

Jercy doesn't even know the gods are there. The big six are just invisibly hanging around the house, pretending they live there with their parents and they're just ordinary mortal/legacy kids.

But now for the humour…

I mean, after some time Percy starts to notice things out of place, their food disappearing overnight. He goes after Nico and (heh) Uncle Hades to question if his apartment is haunted. Hades accidentally goes “No, mom.” Silence. Very awkward. Percy doesn’t understand what's going on, but Demeter is there and she starts screaming at Hades and calls him stupid.

Points if Hades offers Percy and Jason pomegranate juice and this turns into an actual topic in the Olympian Council. Zeus accuses Hades of trying to gatekeep their parents, and the other Olympians are just sitting there watching the Big Six throw words at each other faces without a single idea about what that is about.

Things would possibly get even more confusing when Hades says: at least MY son isn't a grandmother’s beater *looking straight at Ares*

Eventually, Percy and Jason would notice what's going on, I guess. Maybe the Big Six would approach them pretending to be orphans or unclaimed demigods in need of a family, but it would explode in their faces because Percy would SEETHE that the gods were seemingly ignoring their kids again.

He would break into Olympus to complain and… ouch, that conversation will need a therapist to go on…

At some point Zeus would go all “Littlest Sibling Mode” and just point at one of his brothers and say “It was HIS idea, mom! He forced me to do it 😔”

Do you think the Big Three would cry if Jason ever complimented them as “these are my boys”? Because I do.

[lena-hills]

New fic is up! Short fluffy hurt/comfort, because Kanan deserves getting some comfort too!

On Ao3 at A Touch of Home

Star Wars: Rebels, Kanan/Hera

Rated G, 2k words.

Summary: When Kanan tries to shrug off a crate to the head, Hera realizes her stubborn crew member needs a little extra care and tenderness.

“Stop struggling and let me touch you!”

Not words Hera would have pictured herself saying to Kanan before today, but the ridiculous man had the instincts of a feral tooka cat when injured.

“You don't have to worry about me, I’m fine,” her clearly wrong crewmate insisted. “It’s just a couple scratches. I’ll jump in the shower and kriff!” Kanan shouted with a jump as his hand grazed the apparently tender wound in an attempt to straighten his hair.

At Hera’s sternly raised eye towards the dark red mess now on his fingertips, he finally deflated and dropped onto the faded acceleration couch with a defeated sigh.

The crate he’d been lifting had been a practically ancient storage container, the structural integrity finally giving way to gravity as the brittle plasteel shattered over Kanan’s head and rained down to the floor.

“I know it stings going on, but I can use the numbing spray if you're worried?” Hera offered as she sanitized her hands and began pulling supplies out from the med kit.

“Nah, I’m fine. Nothing I haven't dealt with before.”

She scooted closer beside him and reached out to angle his head towards the light for a better view. Combing back some of the hairs that had come loose from his usual nerftail, her eyes were drawn to a dark shadow deeper into his hairline. It wasn't a piece of plasteel, but a jagged, raised scar. “I can see that,” she said, running a quick finger over the line to check that no shards had found their way into the still faintly puckered line of skin. “I might not be a medic, but I promise I’m better than whoever treated this one.”

A wry chuckle from Kanan made his head wriggle in her hands. “Yeah, whiskey and dura-tape aren't the best choices for medical supplies. But you work with what you've got.”

At her look of concern he added, “Street kids don't get bacta patches. I learned to improvise.” The casual shrug that accompanied the words was too overdone to be natural, a move clearly crafted to soothe away her worries over him. “It's fine. I'm just more used to patching myself up when something like this happens.”

A bleak picture formed in her mind as she worked to remove the scattered slivers - the sweet young boy she'd sometimes catch glimpses of in Kanan’s eyes in quiet moments, suddenly abandoned and forced to survive entirely alone. He always jumped to do whatever job she needed, quick to volunteer for washing dishes or scrambling under the engine for repairs. She’d assumed he just liked to stay busy, but the tension in his shoulders and words at her insistence to help him for once were hinting towards something different.

“There,” she said, carefully laying the small bacta patch over the now-cleaned wound. “That should stop the bleeding, and the worst of the shards are out.”

Kanan quickly sat up. “Thanks. I’ll go start cleaning up the mess in the cargo bay.”

“No you will not,” Hera ordered, grabbing his sleeve and tugging him back down. “I said the worst of it. Those little pieces are sharp and get everywhere, I still need to check nothing else is buried in that fur of yours.”

That got her a small smile at least.

“On humans it's called hair.”

Hera shook her head. “I’ve seen you shirtless, it's definitely fur. Long fur and short fur maybe, but fur.”

“You shouldn't have to worry about me,” he tried next, not pulling further away but not settling back into the couch either. “I can take care of myself, I swear.”

“Just because you can doesn't mean you have to. We look out for each other now.” She released his sleeve but let her hand slip down to catch his, trying to give back a measure of the support and care he was always so eager to give to her. “And I’m the one who took on questionable cargo. If there had been something sharper or dangerous inside-”

Kanan interrupted her worried rant with a soft, “Hey.” The solid hand she held gave her a reassuring squeeze. “Being here with you is the longest I’ve gone without getting into a bar brawl in years. I was overdue for a mild stabbing or black eye, keeps me on my toes.”

Of course he would try to turn this around to make her smile when he was the one who was injured.

But not today. It was Kanan’s turn to be taken care of for once. He wasn't alone anymore, she just needed to make him see it.

“I need to check the rest of your hairy-fur for more pieces so you don't bleed on my ship,” she said firmly, guiding him to lean back against her as she knelt beside him on the couch. The look he gave over his broad shoulder was still somewhat wary, but he followed her lead.

Hera slowly worked her fingers through the soft strands, peering close for any remaining slivers of plasteel while also trying to mimic the soothing touches Kanan had given her when she was sick. Lifting the long hairs as she worked, she realized they had something of a mind of their own, not unlike lekku. “It only wants to go straight back? Why doesn't it stay where I put it?” she asked, watching the chunks of hair move and twist as she attempted to part and section.

“It's what it's used to,” he explained. “If you always have it one way, that's how it’s going to try to stay.”

“Maybe it's good to try something different once in a while,” Hera said gently. She wondered if he understood her meaning as her fingers cautiously combed through the surprisingly long lengths, soft as synthsilk as they drifted over her skin and smelling faintly of her fruit-scented soap she'd offered to share. “It looks nice down.”

“Thanks.” The word was quiet, but the slight softening of the tension where his hand lay over his knee made Hera smile.

Mostly certain her patient was now cleared of potential danger, she began to slowly draw her fingernails over his scalp in a gentle massage. What had seemed a solid color of rich brown when tied back now reflected the light with a beautiful mix of honey golds and deep reds as she stroked his head. The visuals were so distracting she nearly missed the warning signs of a serious medical complication.

“Kanan, do you have any allergies? Like, to bacta or something?” she asked, trying not to sound panicked. The med kit had basic antihistamines, but the sudden flush of hives down both of his forearms was rapidly becoming terrifying.

“No, why?”

At her horrified pointing to his bumpy skin, Kanan merely waved her off with, “It's just goosebumps,” as if that was a helpful explanation.

“Where did you catch a disease from a goose?”

The laugh he gave was warm and far more relaxed than Hera considered appropriate for the situation. “Not a disease,” he explained. “It's a thing human skin does to our hair, see?” He took her hand and ran her finger slowly over his skin, letting her feel the little tiny hairs sticking up on the bumps. “Perfectly normal. Happens when we get cold and stuff.

Hera bent down to examine more closely. “Should I get you a blanket or turn up the heat? Do humans need a warmer temperature when injured?”

Kanan flushed slightly and looked down. “No, it, uh,” he stammered. “What you were doing, it just felt nice.”

“Oh.”

It seemed her plan was working better than she'd thought.

Not that Hera was finished yet.

“Sit tight a moment,” she said, giving his shoulder a quick squeeze as she got up from the couch. “I need to grab something.”

The confusion on his face when she returned a few minutes later was absolutely worth the effort. “You can cook?” he asked, looking mystified but touched at the two steaming mugs of soup gripped in her hand as she placed them on the table.

“My secret recipe; spicy instant noodles with an egg dropped in,” she declared, pulling two spoons from her pocket and putting them in each mug with a flourish. “More expensive than ration packs, definitely less healthy, but perfect for when you're sick.”

“I had a crate land on my head,” he said, his lips curling up in a soft smile that made her chest tighten. “That's not sick.”

Hera bent forward to gently place the cold-pack she had grabbed from the food-saver on the dark bruise slowly growing at the corner of his hairline. “Close enough.”

“Thanks, for all of this,” Kanan murmured in his rich, warm voice just as Chopper rolled in to join them.

The mammal is still alive? her droid beeped, sending his optical sensors examining Kanan’s proximity to her with clear displeasure. This unit can rectify that!

“C1-10P,” she reprimanded, “we do not speak like that to family.”

Since when does the monkey count as family? Chopper warbled with dismay.

“Since I said so,” Hera said firmly. “This is Kanan’s home too. Be nice.”

The sounds her astromech made as he spun away were about as far from nice as mechanically possible, but they didn't seem to upset Kanan.

“Family?” he asked, the word a whisper as he stared at her with hope and wonder in his gentle eyes.

“Yes,” she said with a firm nod. Whatever happened to them, wherever her mission against the Empire led, she could at least make sure Kanan learned he deserved to be cared for too. “Family.”

While the Ghost would always be home, Hera did miss the automated dishwasher from their house on Lothal. Especially when her usual ship’s ‘dishwasher’ was out of commission.

Kanan lay curled up on one half of the acceleration couch with Jacen on the other, both wrapped in blankets and passed out again. Twi’leks were fortunately immune to Corellian flu, but it seemed human-Twi’lek hybrids were not, with both father and son running the usual gamut of aches, mild fevers, and exhaustion.

Despite all of that, somehow Kanan still was alert enough to hear the clinking of their mugs from supper being placed in the drying rack.

“I’ll get dishes,” he mumbled groggily, one hand stretched out to try to find the table as a guide.

“You will stay right where you are, mister,” Hera said in the tone that, even while feverish, her husband should recognize meant no arguing. “General’s orders.”

Making her way back from the kitchen, she was pleased to note that he still had sense enough to listen. Two furry heads, one rich browns with faint streaks of silver that caught the light and one bright green, lay quietly on the faded orange cushions.

When Hera slipped back into her seat between them, both quickly snuggled up against her, Jacen’s head pressed into her leg while Kanan instinctively shifted up into his favorite spot in her lap. Her hands fell into comfortable old patterns, tenderly running through her boys’ soft hair with quiet, soothing pets. Jacen merely made a soft, sleepy hmmm sound at the touches and curled deeper into his blanket, while his father’s head turned back and forth and pressed into her hand like Sabine’s Loth-cath when it demanded scritches, all while making a low, contented groan.

What a difference fifteen years together could make.

“Wake me up if you need anything,” Kanan said, words slightly muffled against her thigh.

Well, perhaps not entirely different.

“You're the sick one, love, Try the other way around,” she said with a gentle laugh.

His hands abandoned the blanket, one stretching over her lap to lay on Jacen’s shoulder while the other wrapped possessively around her knee. “I have everything I could ever need, right here.”

Hera resumed the slow tracing of her fingernails over his scalp in the way that always made him relax for her. “I know, love. Me too.”