I don't expect you to recognise my voice, even though you really should. I don't expect you to see me, even though I am always at work. And I really don't expect you to thank me, because of all the trouble I cause.

Heh, you still don't know who I am, do you?

Okay, okay, a few hints then.

Some would say that I am one of the more boring Olympians, one of the unimportant ones. Others would say that I am the most powerful and the most feared. Some say that I make life worth living. Others have killed and been killed because of me.

So, come on, who am I?

Hermes?! You are joking me, right? I bet you only said that because he is the only Olympian you can remember from that awful Disney film. Keep this up and I'll make you fall head over heels in love with a pig.

Cupid! Yes, that is one of my names. My Roman name. Although, I'm not overly fond of the way they depict me, all baby-like, naked, and chubby. Hardly flattering.

No, no, I prefer my Greek name, Eros. The one who is in charge of Love, Lust, and Sex. Aha, that got your attention, didn't it? Yep, little old me has the power to make mortal and god alike fall hopelessly in love with anyone and anything. No one is immune to the dizzying effects of one of my Golden Arrows. Like I said, I am the most powerful and feared of the Olympians.

But why am I here? What I am doing back on your squalid little planet?

Your lack of awe, for one thing. Revenge, for another. Also, boredom. And, well, because making people fall in love is my vocation.

It's a long story, but even though the Earth technically belongs to the Nine Realms and therefore is ruled by the reigning Asgardian (whether that be Thor or Loki pretending to be Thor), really it should belong to us, the Olympians. Oh, please, we've done far more for your kind than they have!

Like I said, you're all so used to the Asgardians strutting around that you have no respect or awe left in your hearts for us real gods. So, it's high time that I show you just how frail, weak-minded, and sentimental they truly are. No, I am not jealous!

Ahem, excuse me for that outburst. I'm just saying that we love the human race more than the Asgardians, that's all. And they all have bad breath.

Let's start with Loki.

Oh, what? You actually like this guy? Don't hurt him?!

Give me a break! Look, I quite like him, too – he's fun. But when you've attended three funerals for this guy and written poems about him and letters of condolence, then there comes a point where you have to say enough is enough! Time for the trickster to settle down.

Besides, he's been in love before. He's one of those secretly romantic types who falls in love at the drop of a hat and is so sure that it's true love, but it never is. He knows the drill.

Now, who shall I choose for him? Someone who he'd never pick for himself. Someone who is his natural opposite. Someone who will keep him busy by resisting his obsessive attempts of seduction, but who will also keep him grounded...

Oh, I know! I know! I know!

It could work. It could be disastrous. It will be interesting.

And don't worry, I never miss my target. Yeah, and Hawkeye thinks he's the greatest archer.

Okay, I just need to get the two targets together...