#mpxhera

"Ms Hera-!" Rowoon calls out in surprise as the woman, correction, goddess, bounds into his arms. Though of course they instinctively fold around her, accepting her hug and crouching his height to receive her warm embrace.

"It warms my heart to see you so happy" he murmurs softly into her hair. It smelt like bountiful blossom and was so silky against his cheek. Hera always struck him as such a sad figure in mythology. Angry, sure, but all driven by sadness. So to see her now so animated and happy about something, even something as silly as him gifting her a book she'd been searching for, was nice.

Her hugs, especially, felt nice. She smelt luxurious and her clothes as beautiful as ever, he doesn't really want to let go.

starter for @mpxhera ft Rowoon & Hera

“You’ve got quite the eye-” 

“Hm?” With a not so subtle jolt, Rowoon’s eyes glance back to the young lady beside him, book still clutched in his hand where they had been discussing classic Russian literature, before Rowoon’s gaze, and his brain, had been fully diverted. 

Again, with all the blatancy of a Neanderthal, the demigod’s eyes drift back to the woman who had caught his attention, at the sheer mention of her, no matter how subtle it had been with all it’s snide intentions from the young woman, causing her to snort again as he doesn’t even try to deny it. “That’s Hera, you’ve heard of her I’m assuming” she retorts, fully realising that not her, nor Tolstoy could get his attention back as Rowoon’s eyebrows do lift a little in recognition, with a soft “oh”.

Yes, he had heard of her, of course. Yet somehow he still wasn’t prepared. It was a mix between being star struck and a little instantly in love, as he watches her move slowly between bookshelves. He misses the loud tut from the girl beside him, only reacting as the book meets his chest, hand lifting to hold it in place as she stomps off, but his gaze never wavering.  

As she does only with the other goddesses, Morrigan shows a sort of respectful gentleness in the way she offers a hand to Hera. With all the grace of fog on the moors, the Celt draws her temporary partner out into the center of the floor.

Another council sponsored event, another ball she's been entrusted to supervise. They're very nearly alone as the night has drawn to an end, stragglers and lovers holding hushed conversations along the walls as tabs are dealt with at the bar. Morrigan has had just the right amount of sips from her drink to be quietly careless and it shows in the way she spins the Greek in her arms under the lone spotlight, stepping out of the illuminated circle and holding onto Hera by just the few delicate fingers they have laced together; light and dark.

The sharp edges of the crow's face are softened by the way the God Queen inherently glows. Red lacquered lips curve into a slow and unfettered smile as they play, coming close again in a whisper of rich fabric and swirling skirts. 

“What is this?” Phobetor hums, glancing up towards the woman as he holds a box in the palm of his hand, and a somewhat eager glint in his eye. He’s seen the designer name embossed in gold on the lid and if there is one thing the god of nightmares adores, other then his queen, it is designer, luxury items. “You shouldn’t have” he purrs, smirk only widening as he says what is customary, before lifting the lid and gazes down at the beautifully crafted time piece inside. 

“Hera-” he coos, before looking up to her once more with a small tut at her expenditure, before long fingers reach in to pull out the watch and the metal chain clinks in the most satisfactory way. Swiss made, hand crafted, diamond cut and perfect balanced, the thing was a work of art, and he must say, nicer then anything he had previously. “You spoil me” he murmurs, quite taken aback by the beauty of it, before his gaze lifts to the sad eyes of his queen. 

meme: jingle bell memes

‘Reversed: Your muse declares their love for my muse on Christmas night.’

They’re not very affectionate, really, the Greeks as a whole. No matter how Hades has tried to change that these last years with the people he cares for, in the big picture most of them don’t particularly communicate their feelings for each other in healthy ways. Only the bad ones usually get expressed in a very over the top manner - they’ve gained their notoriety in exactly that way, after all.

So to hear his sister admit that she loves him is something he didn’t quite expect to happen. Not that he didn’t sort of know that she loves him - like he loves her, like they love all of their family - but to know something and to hear affirmation of it are two very different things entirely. He takes a moment just to look at her after she said it, his expression gentle and soft, and then he smiles warmly at her.

“I love you too, little sis,” he says lightly, not allowing her words to make the moment heavy between them, since this entire evening is meant to make her feel better, to make her laugh, not to make her consider love in all its shapes and forms. “Even when you’ve always been a little brat.” He grins then, reaches out to gently ruffle her hair - not too much so it doesn’t get messed up - and then nods his head at the snacks on the table.

Jingle Bell Memes | Accepting

Felix was absolutely bursting with excitement as he handed his gift to Hera, his expression bright with glee. He had put a lot of thought into her gift, and had asked basically every employee in the jewelry shop their opinion on it, before finally settling on what he hoped was the perfect present. It was hard to shop for the queen of the Greek gods, after all. What do you get for a woman who must have everything?

A Knight's Rescue | starter for @mpxhera ft Phobetor & Hera 

Stopping by the door to his Queen’s apartment, Phobetor pauses, before he lifts his hand to press to the wood, gently brushing across it’s surface. Whatever was behind this door felt very bad indeed. Such negativity, fear and utter saddness festered here it was almost palpable at the back of his throat. A very old, very powerful being was ripping itself apart within this apartment and if they didn’t act soon to do something, the floodgates would break and all of this would spill over. “I am here” he murmurs into the phone, held to his ear by the other hand. A concerened aquaintance of Hera’s having reached out to him, as they’d all heard the news that was torturing the poor woman once more, and no one could intervene like Phobetor. 

Aparently Hera had tried to continue on as if all was normal and fine for a few days, but those closest began to see the cracks soon after, and now she had secluded herself and Phobetor is worried. “Hera” he calls out to the door a moment later, stepping a little closer, listening out for a reply, but not to his surprise, one does not come. “Hera, it is Phobetor-”he calls out again, this time with a little more authority, because she is going to need to listen to him. “I am going to come in, open the door Hera-” he continues, though he is almost positive she wont.