#And having her as the yin of wrath to Hades' yang is just- its SO good. its so good.

[iamthepulta]

Every time I see a story about Hades and Persephone now, my mind starts clawing at the walls and screaming this is not what the story is supposed to be. This is not The Brand. The themeing is not there.

Demeter is not the bad guy, Hades is not the bad guy. If anything, Persephone is the bad guy. But she's not guilty, she's fated. It's a dance of themeing.

If Demeter is the bad guy, you take away the joy of summer and gratitude of spring. If Hades is the bad guy, you destroy the inevitability and softness of death. But Persephone.

The earth does not care if you die. The winter does not care if you slip on ice. The stone does not care if your ankle cracks. The world of circumstance is unkind and unapologetic. It's neither worse than Hades' death nor different; but it's to be feared. It's sudden and violent. It's a terror. The Dread Persephone.

The story of Persephone should be about self-discovery, not victimhood or tragic accidents.

[winedwords]

Aleister| In The Dark |Black

Title; In The Dark

Pairing; Aleister Black/Reader

Words; 5200

Summary; He ate my heart out.

Warning; NSFW. SMUT. AU AF. Heathens!verse. Sex pollen/venom trope. Magic healing dick trope. Thigh riding, oral sex, public sex. Kinda dubcon. Persephone and Hades spin if you drink some wine and squint. morally flexible aleister. porn with the faintest traces of plot. shit editing and proofreading is shit. ye have been warned.

A/N: Repost from the old blog

I don’t know how I got talked into this.

This wasn’t my scene. There were too many people entirely too close to me. The lights were blindingly bright and the strobing made my eyes hurt. The music was so loud, I could feel the bass rattle in my chest and thrum through my veins. Or maybe that was the several shots of tequila that I felt in my veins? Even if this was an outdoors event, there was little to no airflow and sweat clung to every inch of skin from the heat and exertion of my pitiful attempts at dancing.

My roommate and coworker, Adrienne, had talked me into coming to coming here and wearing as little as I was. This wasn’t me, at all. Whereas I would have been content with a game night and a couple of glasses of wine, like the homebody I am, she wanted the lights and the sounds and the feel of writhing bodies pressed against each other. She wanted the crush of uncontrolled euphoria brushing against and dancing with her magic.

I love her to bits, I really do, but this is what happens when your friends worship Dionysus. They would throw themselves into anything hedonistic and it would feed their magic. That magic would then reach these euphoric pinnacles and Adrienne swore that it was better than any orgasm she’d ever had, so I just had to come with her to this club.

My usual night out attire was not appropriate, oh no.

Adrienne had insisted on the tiniest, strappiest neon blue bikini I had ever seen. I’d balked at her as she pulled it from the shopping bag, the microscopic bits of polyester would barely cover anything and I’d told her as much. She’d just laughed and said that there would be others wearing far less and to stop being such a prude. Her Circle would be there and nothing would happen she said, so why not have a night of fun? Like an idiot, I relented.

Yes, it was a Circle dedicated to hedonism and the worship of Dionysus, but I knew that if they had any say about it, no harm would come to me. Not when they would have to face the unholy wrath of the North American Council.

I guess you could say that I was special, even amongst the magic folk.

See, magic is a finicky thing, temperamental and as unique as a fingerprint. Most magic folk do not fall into strictly black magic or white magic, but rather on a spectrum of grays. We are all born with innate ability, affinities and knacks for certain types of spellcasting. Our magic comes from the blood and each individual had different talents. Some, like Adrienne, are ridiculously skilled at charms and summoning magics. Others, like those in the Order of Osiris, were stewards of the dead, shepherding lost souls to the afterlife and banishing malignant spirits.

Then there was me.

The only White Witch born in nearly four centuries.

White magic was beyond rare. Difficult to wield, incapable of actually causing harm, and the only magic capable of healing wounds and curing illness, those with white magic had been worshipped and revered throughout history as living deities. With white magic, everything had a cost, every action had an equal reaction.

The biggest reaction was the prevalence of black magic. My tutors had said that white magic burns so brightly, that it must always be followed by the impenetrable darkness as its shadow. Black magic was expressly forbidden by mainstream casters, for good reason. Blood magic, sex magic, necromancy, there was no taboo that was considered to be off limits. Black magic could steal free will, snuff out life, summon inconceivable eldritch horrors from parts of the universe best left untouched.

My tutors had warned that white and black magic were inexorably drawn to each other, like two primeval magnets. That they were two halves to the same coin, the light and the dark, yin and yang. Precautions had been taken to never allow myself to be anywhere in proximity of a user of any type of dark magic, lest the inconceivable were to happen.

I felt him long before I ever was able to lay my eyes on him. The brush of his magic against me felt like velvet and tasted like single malt scotch.

I’d been followed before. Since my birth, there was always someone watching from a respectful distance. They were always nondescript people, blending in with their surroundings, if it weren’t for the feel of their eyes trailing me. I’d grown used to them with time, knowing they were there at the back of my mind, but also knowing that they’d never approach.

He was disturbingly handsome and not trying to blend in, in the least. He stuck out like a sore thumb in the sea of writhing humanity, as still as a statue with the slicked back mohawk and the clearly tailored black on black suit. He wasn’t dancing like the others around him, I wasn’t sure he was even breathing. He was just staring. At me.

I was close enough to make out the tattoos on his hands and the crescent moon high on his cheekbone through the crowd and I shivered for reasons I was not ready to examine closely right now.

Illuminati. And an enforcer at that.

Why in the world would they be sending someone who should be doing their wetwork and other unsavory bits of business to keep tabs on me instead of their usual nondescript types? Both the Templars and the Illuminati sent the same types of people to shadow me, always nonthreatening and certainly never got this close to me.

Both groups, the Illuminati and the Templars, were tasked with keeping balance in the world, maintaining order, and cleaning up any… messes to keep the ordinary and non-magic from discovering us. They just happened to go about it from each other.

The Templars were an ancient order, able to trace their beginnings to Babylon, with a strict code of ethics and morality. Everything was for the greater good. Duty, honor, and sacrifice were revered amongst them and it was not unusual for them to sacrifice their lives so that others may live. The ultimate white hats and do-gooders. The handful of Templars I had interacted with had reminded me strongly of the Knights of the Round Table and my mentor had laughed, saying that the Templars made up the entirety of the Knights of the Round and that Arthur was practically a saint to the later generations.

The Illuminati were a whole different breed. Young in comparison to their arch nemeses, the Templars, only about three centuries old, and infinitely more ruthless. They would do anything, no matter the cost, to keep balance. Blackmail, treason, deceit, murder, torture, it was all on the table. They had no such scruples about manipulation or power grabs. It was well known that they were the people on grassy knolls, the shadowed faces in corporate board rooms, and the kingmakers in every political system around the world.

I had been followed and tracked by both factions since I came into my magic. The Council had told me to not be worried, that this was par for the course whenever someone was born with significant magic, especially when it was black or white magic. I was warned that eventually, when the time was right, they would make a play for my allegiances. I had been assured that I should barely notice them with time, that they would eventually become fixtures of my everyday background. The Council was right, they had become my personal shadows, the faces and shapes changing but never enough for me to pay them much mind because I was never approached.

Until this one.

As soon as I had registered who and what he was, he was gone in the blink of an eye. Even if he was gone from my sight, the taste and feel of his magic still lingered.

So much darker than my own, that mysterious suited man’s magic felt like smoke and velvet and tasted as heavy as the darkest of chocolates with the after burn of a finely aged scotch. It seemed to swirl around me teasingly, caressing along my skin like a lover’s hand would. Then it was gone. My own magic crackled along my skin pleasantly at the loss and it reached up and out of its own accord to seek his out again.

I panicked, it felt like my throat was closing up, and I began attempting to push through the crush of  the writhing crowd. Nothing like this had ever happened to me before, my magic which I had such a tight control over from a young age, attempting to do something of its own will. The loss of control paired with the tequila and the hum of the euphoria spell that the Dionysus cult had cast was fogging my thoughts and I just needed a moment to breathe and to collect myself.

The bodies of revelers were tightly packed and it was damn near impossible to make any headway to the back of the venue, where there were fewer people. The bass of the music was overwhelming and the strobe lights were dizzying, making progress through the teeming masses of human flesh all that more difficult.

I’d made it a scant few feet when a delicate, but impossibly strong, hand latched onto my wrist. I pulled hard to attempt to get out of the iron like grip, but there was no give. I turned back to confront the person accosting me, but the anger and panic rushed out  of me as soon as I made eye contact with a pair of hypnotic and eerily dark eyes. The woman holding onto my wrist tightly gave a blinding smile and leaned in close.

“Dance with me.”

The will to fight drained from me and I smiled dreamily at her. She was petite, with a delicate heart shaped face and an overly full sensuous mouth. Those eyes had hooked me in and all I wanted was to please her and make this strange woman happy. I moved closer to her, my hips swinging to the rapid fire beat that the DJ was playing over the speakers, and she leaned in to press a teasing kiss to my shoulder.

“God you smell divine.”

Her words tickled and I threw my head back with a giggle, exposing the tender skin of my throat. I didn’t see the way her eerie dark eyes zeroed in on the thumping pulse point in my neck, nor did I see the way her teeth seemed to elongate into sharp points. I was too entranced by this woman, the feeling of being around her seemed to enhance the tequila that was lowering my inhibitions.

“You don’t mind if I taste just a little, hm?”

She didn’t wait for a response, leaning in with fangs bared for my exposed neck. I stood stock still, my head heavy from her hypnotic eyes. I could feel the heat of her breath against my skin and then the pinprick of fangs. I relaxed for the barest of moments into her touch before she paused, a strange gurgling noise at the back of her throat.

Then the fog around my brain cleared, the gravity of what just almost happened weighing heavy. My eyes were wide as she practically exploded into dust, her mouth wide in a silent scream, revealing that handsome suited stranger from before, holding a wickedly sharp wooden stake in his left hand.

He cursed in a language I didn’t understand, his eyes drawn to the small pool of blood at the nape of my neck from where that… creature’s fangs had broken skin. I wouldn’t have even noticed the small scrape if it weren’t for the slight burning irritation that emanated from the area. Dust from the creature clung to the lapels of his dark suit jacket, which was clinging to his broad shoulders in what was becomingly an increasingly interesting way to me.

“Do you like men or women?”

The sound of his voice startled me. Deep, cultured, with just the faintest traces of an accent. My skin was starting to feel almost too tight and the thrum of the bass of the electronic music was vibrating straight to my core. I laughed uncomfortably at his words as soon as they registered through the returning fog that was becoming thicker and thicker in my head.

“What? Get out of here you creep.”

The suited man’s face tightened into a grimace, still deathly serious. His magic flared and surrounded me completely. It was heavy, all encompassing, and so dark that it sung to my own magic in a way I had never known before. It was simultaneously exhilarating and comforting. I couldn’t help the purr that escaped my throat and the answering bright burst of magic. I was so lost in the feel of his energy that I missed the way he shivered and the rapid bobbing of his Adam’s apple.

“You were bitten by a dhampir, woman. They have a rather potent venom that acts as an aphrodisiac in their saliva.”

Well that certainly explained a lot about the way I was feeling. I’d begun to break out in a cold sweat and I could feel slickness that was most decidedly not sweat clinging to my inner thighs. My heart was racing and I could feel the panic bubbling up inside of me. How did I miss the signs of the dhampir? It was clearly trying to influence my behavior and get me alone… I could vaguely remember something about an anti-venom, but the crush of the bodies around me and the fog of the aphrodisiac was clouding my memory and judgment.

“Anti-venoms?”

His smile was wry but unapologetic. His sharp eyes were cataloguing my every reaction, likely calculating how long I had until my senses left me and I was reduced to a babbling, horny mess.

“The blood of the offending dhampir, which is out of the question now, or… a high dosage of the unique cocktail of adrenaline, endorphins, and oxytocin that’s released during orgasm. Now tell me, men or women?”

My mouth was dry and my brain was still whirring to process. My answer was clearly taking too long and he hurriedly pushed his hand through his dark hair with a frustrated sigh.

“The venom works quickly, you only have about five more minutes before the it overtakes your nervous system and begins to liquify your internal organs. Which means someone needs to make you cum in the next five minutes to stave off the effects. Do… Do I have your consent to see you through this?”

I was most certainly not ready for this, to be afflicted with a venom that was going to take away my free will, let alone a man offering to help and asking for my consent before I was turned into a mindless sex machine who’s organs turn to mush. He was dangerously handsome, I could definitely do a lot worse, and the touch of his magic alone pulled me to him. What was I forgetting though? This damn pink fog was beginning to take over my vision and I had somehow inched myself closer to him, so close I was practically plastered against his front, the brush of the soft fabric of his suit making my blood roar.

“I trust you. I don’t know why, but I do. B-but what’s your name?”

He smirked, something dark and hungry crossing over his face, but the venom was pumping too thickly through my body for me to pay too much mind.

“Aleister Black. It’s a pleasure, (Y/N).”

There was no chance to respond, as Aleister had swooped in for a sinfully feverish kiss one hand cupping the back of my head and the other playing with the many straps of the neon bikini at my hip. The cool metal of his lip ring felt like a brand against my lips and a quick nip from his teeth had my lips parting to make way for him to deepen the kiss. My insides clenched at his touch and I was already so, so close. His lips began to trail downwards along my jaw line and he chuckled as I shivered against his lips.

I felt like I was burning up. 

Every nerve was on a razor’s edge, to the point where every touch by a dancing partygoer and every touch of his lips against the bare flesh of my decollete was a pleasurable torture that bordered on pain. I couldn’t say what part of my body’s reaction was due to the guttural, primal attraction that drew me to him and what part was what that…. thing did to me.

It felt like someone put a live wire to my sweat drenched skin when he pushed his thigh between my legs and up against my core. The pressure on my hypersensitive center was delicious, already on the brink of release, and I couldn’t stop my hips, even if I had wanted to, from rutting against his firm, muscled thigh. Mere seconds had passed of my feverish grinding and the fabric of his suit pants were completely soaked by my desire.

My mouth was agape at the combination of friction and pressure in the place where I needed it the most and Aleister seemed to realize it. Both of his hands grasped my hips in a vice like grip and pressed me down hard and faster than I could manage against his thigh. His teeth clamped down on my earlobe and my release jolted through my body like I was struck by lightning.

I writhed in his arms, hips jerking shortly while my eyes rolled into the back of my head. Aleister hummed his approval, raspy foreign words spoken into my ear. My body eventually stopped shuddering, my chest heaving with my inhaled breaths and my heartbeat still fluttering like a hummingbird’s wings. The relief was only momentary however, then the lust was back and just as overwhelming as before.

I mewled in desperation, frantic for something, anything to bring relief to the pressure. The suited man in front of me made sure to double his efforts of dragging my core along his thigh, before gliding a hand underneath the small polyester triangles of my top. The rough pads of his fingers teased, then pinched the pebbled flesh of my nipple, the pleasure-pain sending jolts of pleasure directly to the tight bundle of nerves between my legs. Aleister caught my lips again, his tongue twisting with my own in the most ancient of dances.

The crush of the bodies around us was pressing me tight against him and it just took a sudden shove of a partygoer against me to send me into another orgasm at the rough treatment. Shudders wracked my body longer this time, the release feeling three times as strong as the one before it. It took several deep breaths to finally gain some semblance of control over my motor functions again, the white hot pleasure finally fading.

The pink fog that clouded my brain and my vision seemed to lessen in its density for just the barest of moments, long enough for me to begin to paw at the front of Aleister’s suit pants. He chuckled and swatted my hands away, only to be met with a high pitched whine that somehow came out of my mouth.

“You’re so cute when you pout.”

His affectionate words only served to double my effort in getting his pants off. His much larger hand grabbed both of my wrists and held them tightly, his once amused face now like stone.

“Sorry, beautiful. Not here, and most definitely not right now. I need to get you somewhere safe before others come for you.”

His magic swarmed me, the taste and feel of it overwhelming my already compromised magic. I weakly in his arms and against his magic for a couple of breaths, before I fell unconscious.

An undetermined amount of time later, I found myself splayed lewdly across the back seat of a large SUV, Aleister between my legs lapping at my core with abandon. I had only been conscious mere moments before I was shrieking his name and grasping at his hair. The pressure and pace with which his tongue had been moving lessened considerably as I rode out my pleasure, the shudders of my body slowly lessening.

It was then that I noticed the hastily drawn symbols on my thighs and lower abdomen, the vast majority of which I could not make out.

“What are these?”

My voice was so much breathier than I would have liked and Aleister looked up, the lower half of his face and beard glistening from the fluids of my core. I flushed brightly at the sight, arousal and embarrassment burning through me. His smile was predatory and filled with male satisfaction, the bright white a stark contrast with the darkness of his beard.

“Sex magic. Increases your pleasure while staving off the effects of the venom. I had to do something, you were starting to seize as I brought you to my car.”

The squawk I made would have embarrassed me further if I wasn’t so indignant.

“Sex magic?!  Are you out of your fucking mind? I cannot be party to this!”

I scrambled to get up and he made no movement to stop me, still crouched over my lower body as still as a stone, waiting. I had no idea what he was waiting for, too preoccupied with looking for the skimpy bottoms of the neon bikini, when a muscle cramp unlike any I had ever felt before wracked my lower abdomen. I groaned and attempted to curl in on myself to try to quell the pain.

“You’re going to have to be party to it. The only other choice is to die. Now come to me, this is going to get worse before it gets better.”

The cramp passed for the moment, leaving me exhausted and weak.

“You talk as if you speak from experience.”

He hummed noncommittally, pressing a kiss to the skin of the top of my thigh, his tongue flicking across the gooseflesh that his kiss caused.

“Enough experience to know how long this will last. Your mind is coming back to you, but your body is still prey to the effects of the dhampir venom. It’s going to be a long night.”

I hesitated, just a moment too long, then I choked off a scream as another cramp seized me, this one even more vicious than the last. Aleister’s face was hard, before making short work of his button up dress shirt, the suit jacket in places unknown.

“Do you trust me?”

My eyes were bleary with tears of pain and I could barely make out his face through them. He’d seen me through this far, the only untoward thing he’d done was drawing symbols of profane magic on my body in sharpie, in an attempt to ease the process. There wasn’t even a question.

“Yes.”

I didn’t have the time to read into the flurry of emotion across his face or the way his magic rubbed and purred against me in a decidedly feline way. Aleister had practically lunged upwards  to my lips, his kiss demanding and unrelenting. I groaned and arched upwards into him and into his mouth, returning his kiss with equal ferocity. I was so distracted by the flurry of our tongues, teeth, and the taste of myself that I barely noticed Aleister pushing his pants down his thighs.

It was the heavy press of the blunt head of his cock that made me pull away from his mouth with a gasp.

“Last chance. Say the word and I’ll do my best with my fingers and my mouth.”

His raspy words made me tingle in the most delightful of ways, the need in his voice pulling at the dark and primitive part of my psyche. The heavy pink fog had made its return with a dizzying speed and I frantically shook my head. I was just so… hungry for him.

“If you stop now, I could never forgive you.”

Aleister didn’t respond verbally, surging forward between my slick folds and not stopping until he bottomed out inside of me. My scream was wordless and he didn’t pause for a moment, his hips setting a bruising pace against my own. My hips were stuttering upwards into his, desperately craving every generous inch of him, needing more more more.

I was already on the brink, my magic crackling like lightening around me. It reached up to touch his skin, sizzling against the sweat and he groaned. Aleister began muttering in a language I was wholly unfamiliar with, his magic caressing along my skin so heavily it felt like an actual touch. He shifted ever so slightly and the heavy drag of his length inside of me caught that one spot that made me gasp at the immensity of the pleasure.

“Found it.”

I couldn’t be mad at his smug words, because they were delivered so breathlessly. Every thrust of his hips caught the hidden bundle of nerves inside of me, my hands clutching desperately at him as I mewled and moaned and writhed underneath him.

The orgasm was too big, too intense, and came on entirely too quickly for me to adequately prepare. I tried to say something, to warn Aleister, but his thrusts felt like they were driving the air straight out of my lungs. Then the knot that had been coiling inside of me snapped.

I remembered screaming, a sudden rush of fluid leaving me, and the delighted curses from Aleister’s mouth.

After that everything had faded and blurred into a rush of orgasms, different sex positions, and Aleister, most importantly Aleister. Somehow we had made it to a residential building and made it inside, unseen. My memory was hazy and I didn’t remember collapsing from exhaustion.

I woke in an unfamiliar bed, the silk sheets a sensory overload to my touch sensitive skin. The venom may have been out of my system, but it was still wreaking havoc on me. Religious and occult artwork decorated the walls of an otherwise sparsely furnished room and it took me some time to gather my bearings, the walls seeming to seep magic and the smell of Aleister surrounding me. There was an unfamiliar thrum in my chest and at the back of my mind, I could feel annoyance that wasn’t my own.

It took several moments, but I was able to gingerly make my way out of the bed, every muscle in my body screaming from the overexertion last night and my feminine flesh was almost painfully sore. I shuffled my way out of the bedroom, turning to what must have been the kitchen by the sound of a coffee machine and Aleister’s voice. I felt like I was being pulled by a cord towards him.

He was speaking with someone.

It wasn’t until I got further down the hall and closer to the kitchen, did I realize that he was speaking about me to someone on the phone.

“I understand that this was not what the bosses meant when they said to watch her, but what was I supposed to do?”

He paused, before chuckling.

“I’d like to see what you would have done with a pretty little thing like her begging for you.”

Hurt burned in my chest when he gave a bellow of a laugh. Was this some sort of sick cosmic joke?

“No, no, it was not like that. Dhampir venom. You just don’t get it though Michael. Her magic practically sings to me. That’s… its impossible to describe.”

He stopped speaking for a moment, running his hands through his hair.

“She knows that I used sex magic last night to fight off the venom last night. I just don’t think she realizes that her magic bound us together. It’s for the best though, the bosses will be thrilled that she’s ours now. And it wasn’t even as hard as they were making it out to be.”

Aleister paused at my gasp and took a breath. My magic had bound us last night?

“Dante, I must call you back.”

He hung up the phone, not turning to face me. Even through my shock and hurt, I was still struck by his terrifyingly beautiful appearance and the tattooed skin pulled taught over expanses of muscle. I wasn’t of the mind last night to have explored him as thoroughly as he had explored me.

“Did… did last night mean anything at all?”

Aleister turned towards me, his eyes suspiciously dark and molten, with a small and secretive smile on his face. I blinked and then he was in front of me, body heat seeping through the thin fabric of the t-shirt I wore. He filled my vision, all I could see, smell, and feel was him. Anticipation curled in my stomach and my breath was caught in my lungs.

“You were my mission.”

He hooked a long and tattooed finger underneath my chin and pulled me in for a kiss that was simultaneously chaste and claiming. I could feel my magic begin to crackle in the air as my anxiety began to rise. He could sense that between our neophyte bond, brushing his thumb against my lower lip to give me some comfort. Affection was all I could feel from him, with the barest traces of pity.

“There is nothing I wouldn’t have done to have you.”

I wanted to sob.

“Th-that’s not what I meant, Aleister, you know that.”

He gently pushed an errant strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers caressing slowly down my cheek. His touch was almost reverent and my skin seemed to hum with pleasure in the wake of the path of his digits.

“It’s all that mattered at the time.”

The lump in my throat felt like a boulder, cutting off my airflow. He may have answered my question, but I hated that I still had to ask.

“And now?”

He leaned in, his forehead resting against mine and one thick, tattooed arm snaking around my waist. Aleister’s magic washed over my skin like the heaviest of velvets and instinctively, I relaxed into him. This is what I was warned about, the bonding of magics like ours. We were two halves of the same coin, one light and one dark, forever drawn to each other by forces so much bigger than us.  

“You are mine as I am yours. I would open the gates of Hell and let every demon loose before I let anyone, including my brothers and sisters, touch you.”

Aleister then ducked his head just a little further and caught my lips in a claiming, soul searing kiss. The touch of his lips did not quell my unease for what was inevitably to come. The… circumstances of our joining was sure to start a war.