#I named her after persephone but she's not persephone its just her name

[lavender-moon03]

nature goddess design I drew, I'm not 100% satisfied with how I drew the planty dress, but I love the design of the rest

unedited version under the cut

[zickmonkey]

Want to share thoughts but the person I want to shovel them to is off limits rn

[aliciavance4228]

The Odyssey: Funny Moments

Most of you liked my "The Iliad: Funny Moments" post, so I decided to make this one as well.

1. When Telemachus asks Odysseus what kind of help they have for taking down the suitors, Odysseus basically says, "We've got Zeus and Athena on our side. Are you sure that'll be enough?"

2. "Brother, who blinded you?" "Nobody! Nobody did!" "...Then we're going to go back to sleep."

Taken to the logical extreme in a comic book adaptation where Odysseus and his men gave him fake names:

"Brother, who blinded you?"

"Nobody! Idontknow! Idontcare! Or maybe... Idontremember!"

"So that's why they called him Polyfool."

3. After his crew opened the bag of winds thinking it had treasure and caused a huge storm, Odysseus briefly considers suicide as valid as an option to preserving through hardship.

4. The sheer, mind-boggling, testicle-shriveling amount of crap that Odysseus and his crew get put through when trying to get back to Ithaca can be viewed as hilarious in a cringe comedy kind of way. By the time Odysseus gets home and realizes that his wife has been badgered and harangued by suitors for a decade one could be forgiven for thinking that his wanton slaughter of them all was less about their violation of guest rights and more just blowing off some steam on a morally unambiguous target.

5. When briefly visiting the Underworld, Persephone allows Odysseus to talk with his mother and other dead people. Odysseus is absolutely terrified of her and dreads staying too long and incurring her wrath, running back to his ship fearful that she'll sic Medusa's head on him.

6. One of Odysseus's crew randomly dies by falling off a roof after a night of heavy drinking. Everyone else gets to be killed by horrible monsters and the wrath of the gods, but he instead gets to be a posthumous reminder about the dangers of alcoholism. Even better, after his death he berates Odysseus for not burying him properly when our hero goes to Hades!

7. On the way back to Ithaca, Telemachus asks a favor of Nestor's son Pisistratus, and proceeds to invoke two generations of friendship to get some help dodging Nestor's aggressive hospitality.

8. Penelope asks a disguised Odysseus to interpret a dream she had. It turns out that during the dream, one of its characters explicitly explained what it all represented, and Odysseus just repeats it back to her.

9. While disguised as a human, Athena goes to the trouble of giving a plausible explanation for her departure... then promptly blows her cover by turning into a bird and flying away in front of a boggling Nestor and Telemachus.

10. Penelope's tricks against the suitors, of which the two best known are:

At one point, she told the suitors she'd choose her next husband after she'd finish weaving a burial shroud for Odysseus's father Laërtes... And every night, she'd undo her work. She strung them along for three years and would have continued had an unfaithful maid not exposed her.

On page we see her daring them to replicate one of Odysseus's feats: she put twelve axes on the ground so that the rings in the handle would align and gave them Odysseus' unstrung bow and arrows, and told them that whoever could use that bow toshoot an arrow through all the rings would be her next husband.She also forgot to tell them it was a recurve bow that the suitors wouldn't even recognize when at rest, let alone string.

A lesser-known ploy is when she calls out the suitors for freeloading off her husband's estate instead of courting her with lavish gifts. They rush to present her with gifts, while the disguised Odysseus watches with delight.

11. Athena's response when Odysseus fails to recognize her in disguise and tells her a backstory he came up with on the spot is essentially "That's my liar! There he is!"

Credits: TV Tropes

[genericpuff]

(Lore Rekindled ask)

What does TGOEM do? I thought it'd be an organisation for those who swore virginity but it seems to be more of a women's support group? Asking because I thought Dating would be banned but Hestia reacted positively when Persephone told her she was in a relationship, so is it just that they can't have sex and that's why it's okay? Or is TGOEM only named because Athena, Hestia, and Artemis are running it and has nothing to do with their expectations of it's members (Eternal celibacy)?

So I've changed the functioning of TGOEM because, in execution with LO, it made zero sense for there to be some kind of "virgin only club" led by traditionally aroace goddesses who turned out to be lesbians sleeping together which then disbanded as soon as Persephone didn't want to be a virgin. Considering LO is trying to "deconstruct purity culture" and be "feminist", really all the message came across as was "virginity bad! celibacy bad! asexuality bad! women need to be having sex and popping out babies to be fulfilled! lesbian sex is a loophole and doesn't count!" There is lots to be said about how "virgin only" clubs like TGOEM perpetuate purity culture in a very unhealthy way, but none of that really got explored in LO at all, with most of it being shoved onto Demeter as the sole perpetrator with Hestia and Athena being relegated to hypocrites who were secretly sleeping with each other.

So with TGOEM in Rekindled, I wanted to explore it more as an actual women's support group. There are women in the group who are aroace, there are women in the group who are victims of assault, there are women in the group who are grieving after the death of their partners, etc. The group runs different meetings throughout each week for different purposes and groups of women, and it hosts events to give back to the wider community outside of their own members. Kore also has her own reasons for attending but we haven't gotten into those yet. Like Barley Mother, it operates as a co-op, made up entirely of volunteers and relying on donations and bartering.

In light of that, there is still a reason why it's called TGOEM - The Goddesses of Eternal Maidenhood - as its founding was more for the purpose of protecting goddesses and nymphs from forced marriages and empowering aroace women, but now in the more "modern" era of the story's setting, it's evolved into more of a community for women of all circumstances to empower each other and find safety and comfort in one another. That felt a lot more fitting for Hestia to do than enforcing virginity on people. She's also not in a relationship with Athena in this one, they're both aroace and are more akin to strong platonic companions who enjoy each other's company and working together on TGOEM rather than lovers. Artemis doesn't run the group, but she's been in it for a very long time and was one of Kore's first friends within the group.

Sooo yeah! The reason Hestia responded positively to Kore dating someone is because the group is goal-driven and seeking new, healthier relationships is a goal for many of the women in the group. It's not an anti-dating / anti-sex group, they just want to give their members a safe space to share their news - good and bad - and give them tools to navigate their life outside of the group ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡

[blogthebooklover]

Noa & Mae = Orpheus & Eurydice AND Romeo & Juliet

So, something occurred to me after rewatching Disney's Hercules for like the millionth time (weird stretch, I know, lol). I remembered this post talking about how Mae and Noa's personalities are similar to Hercules and Megara. And then I remembered these two posts from @bookishdaze:

The Woman in the Hazmat Suit

Noa & Mae as Romeo and Juliet

She pointed out how Korina (the woman) may be a leader of the underground bunker, and how her name is from Kore, and we all know what other name the former is also derived? Persephone; the Goddess of Spring and what else? Queen of the Underworld! It's interesting to think about, and I'm really curious about what Wes Ball and team are going to do with this character in the next movie, but I digress.

Which also got me to thinking about the possible story inspirations for the next two movies in Noa's trilogy: the second movie might be a loose retelling of Orpheus and Eurydice, and the third might be Romeo & Juliet (or it could be the other way around, too).

First, the myth/legend of Orpheus and Eurydice.

Orpheus was a demigod and a musician whose beautiful songs were loved by anyone who heard them, mostly by women. However, the only woman he loved was a human named Eurydice. Depending on which version it is, their wedding blessing wasn't entirely finished on the day of their marriage, which was to be ordained by Hymen, the god of marriage ceremonies. This is perceived as an omen of ill faith from the two lovers. Again, depending on which version it is, Eurydice is enjoying some time to herself, or with the Nymphs in a field; but a snake bites her ankle and she dies from its venom.

Overwhelmed with grief by the death of his wife, Orpheus decides to venture to the Underworld to bring her soul back. Since Orpheus is a demigod, it's easy for him to travel down to the realm of Hades to search for his wife. His songs tame Cerberus, the three-headed guard dog of the Underworld, and the creatures hidden in the shadows. When he comes upon the thrones of the king and queen of the Underworld, Orpheus pleads his case of returning Eurydice's soul to her body by singing a song so moving; that it even warmed the hearts of the immortal rulers. Hades and Persephone agree to let him take Eurydice back to the world above, on the condition that Orpheus does not turn around to look at her until they are both in the sunlight.

Orpheus has second thoughts about the gods tricking him that Eurydice is not behind him as they walk. Just before they reach the entrance to the world above, he turns around and manages to see his wife before she is taken back into the shadows of the Underworld. Realizing his mistake, Orpheus begs to try again, but he cannot. Once again, depending on the version, no one enters the Underworld twice while still alive.

Now the ending for Orpheus's story varies, whether he dies of a broken heart or is killed by a creature; however, in one version the Muses take his lyre and send it into the heavens becoming one of the star constellations.

Second, William Shakespeare's play of Romeo & Juliet.

The play that everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, had to read in their freshmen/1st year of high/secondary school. So, a quick recap: Two young teenagers from sparring houses in Verona, Italy, they meet up at an event hosted by the other's family, decide they are in love (after three days of knowing each other) and marry in secret. However, someone from both houses end up dead; Mercutio (Montague) and Tybalt (Capulet), the latter kills the former and Romeo kills Tybalt out of grief and revenge for his friend. Friar Lawrence advises Romeo to visit Juliet before he is sent into exile. After spending the night with her, Romeo leaves. Juliet is grief stricken by the fact that Romeo is in exile, and she has no choice but to marry the man who was chosen to marry her, Paris. Friar Lawrence, once again offers advice but to Juliet this time, to take a sleeping potion that makes her seem like she’s dead.

Once Juliet awakes from the sleeping draught, she finds that Romeo has poisoned himself due to misinformation about her death. Friar Lawrence urges Juliet to come with him to a convent to be safe. However, she does not, choosing instead to stay with Romeo and since her love drank all of the poison, she takes his dagger and stabs herself in the heart. By the influence of the Prince, the two grieving families put aside their differences in memory of their only respective children.

Third, Noa and Mae, and how the previously mentioned stories could work for them.

For the second film, while Noa isn't a musician per se, he does show the abilities of an engineer (fixing a fish rack, and the cattle prod). HOWEVER, he does have to sing to Eagle Sun to get the bird to come to him. My head canon is that maybe Noa works on various different inventions while he's training to be the next Master of Birds. If Mae returns to the Eagle Clan, and sees Noa's inventions for herself, she would probably have mixed emotions at the fact of seeing an evolved ape even creating something from the remains of human technology.

Remember: Noa's and overall evolved ape intelligence TERRIFY her.

However, I think the more she spends time with the Eagle Clan apes, the more she realizes apes and humans can probably co-exist with each other.

My head canon for Mae is that it was her entire family and friends as the team that was sent out on the mission in KOTPOTA, and after Proximus Caesar's apes killed everyone, she barely escaped with her life as she says to Noa. And she had to survive alone in the wilderness before coming across Noa and the Eagle Clan village. Like Noa, she is also just a scared little kid trying to understand everything that had happened in the 200-300 years of a post-apocalyptic world. And now, she literally had/has no where else to go, no home to return to (since we all agree on that one head canon she's one of the few humans immune to whatever remains of the Simian virus), until she spends more time with Eagle Clan.

For whatever reason, Mae has to go back to the underground bunker, or maybe she's kidnapped by another human group from a different bunker; but I'm going with the former for this take. Noa can't take the fact that she has to return to the humans, seeing how humans and apes can live together, and he sets out with Anaya and Soona to get Mae back. When the trio arrive at the human bunker (the one from the end of Kingdom), Noa must plead his case to Korina to get Mae to return to Eagle Clan. That her living amongst apes is proof that both species can co-exist. Maybe even offering one of his inventions and/or an eagle egg, to the human leader as a sign of peace and hope for a future.

After Korina hears Noa's case, she agrees to let Mae return to Eagle Clan; now I imagine that instead of the sadder ending of Orpheus and Eurydice, it's the ending of the Hades and Persephone myth instead, the human leader offers only one condition to Noa: that Mae returns to the bunker when the last leaf falls and the first snows begin. Unlike apes, humans cannot survive the harsh winter weather. Both Noa and Mae agree to this term, and they continue living in the Eagle Clan village until the fall/winter. On the other hand though, I do see this working the other way around: that Noa is the one who is captured, and Mae is the one to plead her case to Korina.

And finally, the third movie. The story line we all want to see!

When Mae returns for the winter, let's assume it's been a couple of years or so by now, there is tension amongst the humans in the underground bunker. Half of them don't like this arrangement of a human living amongst the apes in the above world. The Tybalt & Paris equivalents (gonna call them Bunker!Tybalt & Bunker!Paris) in the third movie are feeling reservations about the arrangement, confessing their concerns to Korina when Mae returns. Korina (also being The Prince equilavent for the third movie) tries reassuring them that Mae staying with Noa and the apes is a test to see if the two species can live and work together. But Bunker!Tybalt and Bunker!Paris are not having it, and they arrange for a duel with Noa until Anaya (since we all agree that he's the Mercutio equivalent, poor thing) steps in for his childhood best friend.

Aaaaaaand we all know what happens next! However, let's imagine Bunker!Paris somehow leaves the scene.

Noa, enraged with grief for his best friend, kills Bunker!Tybalt but soon realizes he made a huge mistake and he decides to step down as leader and exile himself from the Eagle Clan. Because a good leader doesn't kill in revenge, no matter the reason. Meanwhile, when Mae hears the news of Bunker!Tybalt, she blames herself for the whole outcome. Korina makes the decision for Mae to stay in the bunker, for a possible upcoming war with the apes and to keep her safe. Mae doesn't want any more bloodshed, and she confides her concerns with the Nurse equivalent (again, gonna call them Bunker!Nurse; or maybe it'll be Dar as the Nurse Equivalent as well, but I digress). Bunker!Nurse feels empathy for Mae, but agrees with Korina about staying in the bunker. That Mae's skills and intelligence are needed for an upcoming war.

Mae doesn't want a war though, she soon realizes that the apes and Noa are her family as well. She sneaks out of the bunker in the cover of night and tries to find Noa.

Not entirely the same, but I do imagine a scene similar to The Lion King 2 (again, another Romeo & Juliet retelling; although, it would be hilarious if Noa & Mae broke out into song, but that's my crazy take heeheehee); when Mae and Noa reunite, away from everything and everyone trying to keep the two species apart.

Noa tries to convince Mae to run away with him, and explore the remains of this post-apocalyptic world, hoping to find more apes and humans similar to the unlikely duo. And create a new village where the two species can co-exist. Mae doesn't buy it though, she confides in Noa about returning together to prevent an upcoming war between apes and humans.

Once they return, they see it has already happened, once again taking some inspiration from The Lion King 2 here.

Bloodshed and dead bodies from both sides of the battle field. The human girl and the male ape are horrified by the war.

They both enter the sidelines of the battlefield, the apes and humans pause briefly when the ape and human are in sight. Mae and Noa each take turns pleading their case, that humans and apes can live in peace and harmony if they work together. There cannot be anymore bloodshed between them. The test of Mae (and maybe a few other humans) living amongst the Eagle Clan works, and there can be a solution between the two species.

But wait, you dear reader ask, doesn't the Shakespeare play end tragically?

Yes, the OG play is a tragedy. However, like the aforementioned Lion King 2, there are other R&J retellings with a happier ending:

Gnomeo and Juliet

Warm Bodies

Interesting how the second one is also set in a post-apocalyptic world, albeit in the zombie horror subgenre xD.

Black Panther: Wakanda Forever

[maevesheart]

FOOLS - PART II

CORIOLANUS SNOW X CAPITOL!READER

note: continuing to use the mars family name for reader, but different storyline than tolerate it. i recommend listening to fleetwood mac’s “storms” while reading :)

PART I // PART II // PART III

summary: only fools would fall for coriolanus snow, and you’re the biggest fool of them all.

wc: 7.5k (she’s a long one)

tw: smut, pet names, curse words

Coriolanus had kept his promise, and that next morning, you awoke to the sounds of Coryo’s small snores and the chirping of birds outside. 

You raked your nails through his soft curls, now a little messy from his deep slumber. He lightly stirred, and you giggled, he was so pretty with half his face smashed into your pillow, back to the ceiling and one arm tucked securely around your waist. You could really get used to this. 

“A photo will last longer,” Coryo’s hoarse voice cuts through the silence, catching you staring at him. “You’re just so pretty,” you smile, “how could I not stare?”

He gives your hip a tight squeeze, causing you to giggle. 

“Goodmorning, gorgeous,” he murmurs, sitting up and placing a kiss on your temple. 

“Goodmorning,” you chirp back, watching as he rises from the bed, removing his top. He throws it to the floor, and then pulls off his socks, going for his pants next. 

“Woah, steady tiger!” you joke, earning a chuckle from him. 

“Just going to shower. Would love if you’d join me,” he smirks, lust dripping from his words. 

“Normally you know I wouldn’t decline, but we have to be down at the Academy at 9… or well, you have to be at the Academy…” your situation still hadn’t completely settled yet, you were disappointed to be taken out of the competition, but you couldn’t fathom meeting an end like Arachne’s. 

Coryo nods, “I’m sorry, darling. I’ll win for you,” he winks, opening your en-suite bathroom door and stepping into the room. 

You decide you’ll go get him a clean uniform from your elder brother, Perseus’s, room; he graduated two years ago, so his uniform was still in crisp condition, and he and Coryo shared the same muscular, broad frame. 

Percy was a Major in the Peacekeepers, currently probably keeping people in line in District 1. He hadn’t been home since his graduation two years ago, except for the brief visits during the holidays or someone’s birthday. Duty calls, as your father would proudly claim when describing Percy. 

It was still early, but you knew that your father was awake, no doubt. Probably sitting in the kitchen with a cup of coffee and the newspaper in his hands. 

Luckily for you, Percy’s room was directly across the hallway from yours, a straight-shot. 

You scurried across, shuffling around in his closet, the bright red uniform sticking out compared to his rather black and blue wardrobe. 

Percy was a tad bit taller than Coryo, but it would do for one day. Coryo didn’t have time to go home, and if he walked down wearing an Academy uniform, your father was sure to believe he arrived this morning. He wouldn’t be too pleased knowing he spent the night. 

You pulled the uniform off its respected hanger, took a pair of socks, and then some dress shoes from the floor of his closet. Percy could spare a pair, after all, he had about 20 pairs of identical shoes. 

You opened his door, ready to exit the room, looking up to meet the suspicious eyes of your older sister, Persephone. 

Where you and Percy were close and told each other almost everything, you and Persephone were distant and hardly trusted each other. Never since she ratted you out years ago for hiding a bottle of posca under your bed. 

“Why were you in Percy’s room?” she questions, words like daggers. 

You roll your eyes, but fear begins to creep into your body. 

You have the uniform in your arm which is hidden by Percy’s door, the only thing visible are the extra pair of dress shoes, hanging from your hand. 

“Why do you have his shoes?” she sneers, finally noticing the footwear. 

You ignore her, finally pushing past, the uniform meeting her gaze. Her eyes narrow, trying to connect the dots on why you’d need a male’s Academy Uniform. 

“I’m going to cut up the fabric and make some bows, you know I need some new ones. And I’m going to mail the shoes to Percy, he wrote to me requesting them,” the lies were mediocre, at best. You had more than enough money to go out and buy some new bows, and you have Avoxes who could easily make them for you. For the shoes, Percy didn’t wear shoes other than the ones that paired with his uniform, but Persephone never paid enough attention to him to know that.

You get lucky, and Persephone doesn’t question you further, nose up in the air as she continues down the hall, the sound of her loafers echoing off the walls as she continues down the hall.

Finally back in the safety of your four walls, you let out a sigh of relief, throwing the clothing onto the now made bed, and the shoes onto the floor. 

The Avoxes must have come in while you were gone. You were suddenly very thankful that they couldn’t talk, meaning they wouldn’t be able to snitch. 

You hear the shower turn off, the cease of the sound of water. Coryo comes out next, just a towel tied around his waist. You have to keep yourself back from drooling, watching water droplets fall down his chest. 

His hand rakes through his hair, his curls dripping water onto your expensive rug. 

“I got you one of Percy’s old uniforms, and some shoes,” you explain, bashfully, feeling his eyes all over your body. 

You were dressed in your silk pajamas from last night, a rose-pink tank top and little shorts, suddenly feeling very exposed under Coryo’s gaze. 

“Quick, dress. Cook made breakfast, you can get something before you have to leave for the Academy,” you usher him towards the outfit, picking up his clothing from before, quickly bringing them to the laundry basket in your closet. 

“I’ll have them washed and bring them to you later, and don’t worry about returning the uniform or shoes,” you throw a smile over your shoulder at him, flipping through your clothing options for the day. 

“Y/N, I will return them,” he shakes his head. You know he hates to accept help, but you love him. And when you love someone, you help them. 

“Seriously, Coryo. Percy is gone, and he’s graduated, so it's not like he needs it anyways. He has plenty of shoes, he won’t miss one pair,”

Coryo looks down at the shoes, last season's best design, straight out of the box it seems. To most people, your family's money would be intimidating, but not to Coriolanus. He strived to be able to support you the way your father does, to be able to buy you the things that your father buys you now.  

Not willing to press the issue further, he pulls on the outfit, fitting relatively perfect except for the extra length in the sleeves and pants, but no one will notice. He slips on the fresh socks and Percy’s fine shoes, fitting like a glove. 

You pull on a simple pair of white form-fitting pants, a white long-sleeve blouse that has a large bow in the front, and some dark navy-blue pumps that accentuate your long legs. 

Coryo’s eyes take over your now more conservatively-dressed body, pausing to stare at the way the slightly-too-tight pants hug the curves of your ass perfectly, and the top of your cleavage that peeks out in the opening of the bow. 

“Alright, you go down first, that way my father won’t assume you’ve been up here this whole time,” 

Coryo smirks while nodding, he wants everyone to know you’re his, but the public displays will have to wait until you’re out of your penthouse. 

Coryo leaves, giving you a quick kiss to your lips before exiting. 

After a few seconds, you follow suite, hearing the conversation flowing from the kitchen.

Coryo is standing next to the kitchen table when you enter, hand on his chest as he laughs over one of your fathers (probably not very funny) jokes. 

You walk over, placing your hand on the outside of Coryo’s arm, leaning down to peck your father’s cheek. 

“Goodmorning, shining star. Did you sleep well?” he asks, taking a quick sip from his cup of coffee. 

“Always do, daddy. Good morning to you as well, Coriolanus,” you smile, catching the glint in Coryo’s eye as he nods back to you. 

“Coriolanus here was just telling us how he stopped by say good morning, darling. How caring,” your mother swoons, placing her hands over her heart.

“That is very considerate, thank you,” you look back to him, hand still on his arm. 

Persephone, sat in between your mother and father, looks down to where the two of you are touching, eyes flitting down to see Percy’s old shoes on Coriolanus’s feet, and connecting the dots as to why you really needed his old uniform. 

She catches your eye, and shakes her head, and you know you’re caught. But you’re not scared of her, not anymore. You slightly lift your head, showing your defiance. 

“Alright, I’m going to run some errands and go find a dress for the opera later, daddy,” 

“Okay, darling. Once again, it was splendid to see you, young Snow.” 

Coriolanus returns the compliment, following you as you head for the front coat closet, retrieving your old fox fur coat, the sharp orange contrasting with the dark blue in your shoes. You throw your navy bag over your shoulder and guester for Coryo to exit first, extending your hand to the door. 

“Y/N!” Persephone is marching down the hall. You urge Coryo to continue, assuring him that you’ll be right behind him. 

“Are you mad?” she sneers, face mere inches away from your own. 

“What are you on about now, Persephone?” you roll your eyes, ready to escape from your neurotic sister. 

“I will play dumb this one time, Y/N. But I know the Snow family just as well as you do. And Coriolanus Snow is a cunning, deceitful boy. Only a fool would allow themselves to fall for him, let alone help him.” she shook her head, placing a hand tenderly on your shoulder. 

“Don’t be a fool, Y/N,” 

You shoved her hand away, taking a step back away from her. 

“You just don’t know him the way I do, Persephone. Mind your own business.” 

With that, you turned on your heel, slamming the front door behind you.

The bell rings out as you enter Fabricia Whatnot’s shop, Tigris quickly pulling you into her arms. 

You had asked her to design your dress, knowing there was no one more suited for the job than Tigris Snow. 

“Oh, Y/N, you are just going to play so beautifully! I’ve been so excited all week, telling all the clients how lucky I am to know the artist herself!”

You blushed, shaking your head. “You flatter me,” 

She tuts, pulling you over to the small platform, gesturing for you to stand up on it, and slip on the dress hanging in front of the mirror. 

It was beautiful, long and a deep scarlet red. It was sleeveless, and a ballgown, large billows of fabric falling out from the cinched waist. A large bow sat at the back, right on your waist and above your bum, the tails of the bow flowing down to the floor, creating a train. Bows were your signature touch on every item you wore, you made sure of it. 

“Oh, Tigris,” you murmured as she helped you step into the dress, pulling it up your perfectly sculpted curves. 

She smiled, zipping up the backs, the hidden corset within the dress hugging you tight, accentuating your hips and waist. It billowed out perfectly, showcasing your cleavage strategically, leaving enough to the imagination while showing off what you were assessed with. The dress glimmered in the bright lights of the shop, making you shine like a star. 

Once she was satisfied with her work, Tigris pulled back, hands covering her mouth in awe. 

“You look like a princess,” she complimented, watching you twist and turn in the mirror, smiling as you took yourself in. 

“You are fabulous, Tigris. This dress is everything I wanted and more,” you pull her in for a hug, endless thanks falling from your lips. 

She helps you out of the design, and packs it into a gown bag for you to bring home. 

As you pay for the dress, she makes light conversation, asking, “Have you seen Coryo recently? He disappeared last night to check on Lucy Gray and hasn’t returned home since.” 

You feel like you’ve been hit by a rebel bomb when the words leave her mouth, brain failing to place the pieces together. 

Did he see her before he came to you? Or did he once again sneak from your bed to visit his pitiful songbird? 

You composed yourself, not willing to be embarrassed in front of his cousin. 

“I walked him to the Academy this morning, and then made my way over here. He seemed perfectly normal,” you stated, when deep down you wanted to rip all of the curls off of his perfect head. 

Tigris sighs in relief, handing you the gown bag. 

“I’ll see you later. You’ll perform wonderfully, I know it,” you smile at her compliment, bidding goodbye, while a silent fire rages within your belly. 

The ride home is short, and soon you’re hanging up the marvelous dress in your walk-in closet, bare feet against the cold marble tiles. 

For your recital, you had decided on one simply instrumental piece, and then one where you sang. You were nervous, though you had been practicing for ages. You had sang while playing at a few parties, but when you were a guest, people never paying much to you. This time, all the attention would be on you, and you had to make sure this performance was perfect. 

Usually in the Capitol, the only successful singers were those who sang in the opera, but you had a rich and smooth voice, one that many would die for. The original song you had picked to sing was a classic, one that everyone would be expecting and familiar with. 

But you now decided that you wanted to stand out, give them something they aren’t expecting. It would either be detrimental or skyrocketing, and you were choosing to believe it would be the latter. 

You tried to calm your ever-present nerves, smoothing your hands onto the front of your gorgeous dress, toying with the massive sapphire stones on your ears. A matching necklace hung deep from your neck, into your cleavage. They were your mothers, a token of pure beauty and wisdom, something you were hoping would come to you. 

You needed to calm down. Stress never mixed well with your mind. You had decided on a song; it was from the old world. Something all the guests sitting before you had most likely never heard. It was soulful, slow, and emotional. You hoped you would pull a few heartstrings, maybe get some audience members to cry. With your voice, nothing was unlikely. 

Coriolanus had been rushing around backstage for the past few minutes, wanting to steal you for a few moments alone. He wanted to wish you luck, not having seen you since you walked him to the Academy days ago. 

He felt like you were avoiding him, the Avoxes not letting him into your home, you only speaking to Clemmie and Sejanus at school…he was confused about what he could have possibly done, questioning Tigris and Sejanus, but neither could decipher it themselves. 

He had asked various staff members where you were, all giving different answers. It was like you told them not to tell him where you were. 

Finally, he rounded a corner, eyes settling on your back. 

He gawked at the dress, practically eye-fucking you. Your hair was in long curls down your back, and as you turned to face him, he saw a deep red color on your lips, matching the shade of your dress. 

The last person you wanted to see was Coriolanus, but as your eyes settle on his piercing blue ones, you know you’re in for it. 

You stay put, unwavering as he strides up to you, eating you up with his eyes.

“You are the most marvelous thing I have ever seen,” he compliments, going in for a kiss, expectant lips meeting your cold cheek. 

He is taken aback, confidence slightly faltering as you cross your arms against your chest, eyes on his – or should you say Percy’s – shoes, the ones you had given him before you knew him as the traitor he is. 

He watched as you looked in every direction but his, trying your hardest not to give into his gaze. 

He takes your face in his hands, moving your head so your eyes meet his, anger burning in the back of your pupils. You had been pushing yourself away from him the past few days, as it was clear Lucy Gray demanded all his time and attention. 

“Not with your songbird?” you sneer out, venom seeping from your words. Coriolanus’s eyes narrow as he realizes that this is what the avoidance has been about. 

“Darling, I already told you that she means nothing to me. Less than nothing, she is district. I am to take care of her if she is supposed to win, don’t let it get to you,” he is soft with his words, care laced within every consonance. 

You want to believe him, you really do, but it seems his words don’t match up with his actions.

“Once you can show me you truly mean your words, I will listen. Besides, I think it’s time for you to take your seat, Mr. Snow. The show is about to start.”

Coryo is raging as he makes his way back to the box seats you provided him, sitting back in the seat between Grandma’am and your mother. Your words were replaying in his mind, not understanding how you couldn’t see that you were all he wanted. Not some flamboyant little girl from District 12. 

He knew, deep down, that Lucy Gray was becoming important to him. He tried to deny it, but he couldn’t. The more time he spent with her, he began to sympathize with her, trying to ease her pain as much as possible. 

The thick, dark green curtains covering the ornate stage pulled back, revealing a black glossy grand piano, likely a fortune, and you sat on the adjacent bench, your dress billowing out from your back. It was gorgeous. Your mother turned to compliment Tigris’s work, as well did Persephone. It was the most beautiful dress that had ever been crafted in Panem. 

Coriolanus watched with adoration as your fingers delicately danced across the black and white keys of the piano, playing the original piece perfectly. The audience watched in awe, a beautiful girl playing a piano even more beautifully. It was captivating, how someone so gentle and caring could play such a dramatic piece, a song with such emotion that it brought tears to many people’s eyes. You chose this particular piece on purpose, it was one that Coriolanus had asked for you to write years ago, when the two of you were just close friends who messed around in your family’s music room. 

He froze still, the notes going straight to his nervous system, setting him into overdrive. You were performing for him, and he couldn’t decide if it was the most romantic thing he had ever seen, or the most infuriating. You had just been chastising him, but now you were playing his song, the one you wrote for him. 

The song became fast, striking. People would be talking about this piece for weeks, it would be drilled into young students' minds the next time they sat on a similar bench. On the program they had given everyone when they entered, named the song “A Snow Waltz”. You could not have been more obvious if you tried, and the idea of having a song written and named after him sent Coriolanus spiraling, wanting to kiss the sense out of you that very moment.

He sat in disbelief as the elaborate tune turned into something slower, something more calculated. 

Then you began to sing, and he knew he was done for. 

“Every night that goes between, I feel a little less,” 

The audience sat upright, eyes wide as they ingested your words, ones that Coriolanus knew you had pored over for weeks, trying to find the most fitting song for your relationship. And based on the first two lines, he wasn’t feeling overly pleased with your song of choice. 

“As you slowly go away from me, this is only another test,” 

And then he understood. This isn't a love ballad. You weren’t professing your love for him in the most public way possible… you were claiming it back. 

“Every night you do not come, your softness fades away,”

The emotion in your voice is strong and compelling, anyone who is listening can sense the sorrow in your words, the pain you must have endured. 

Coriolanus now knows that he has caused this pain. He is the reason for the best performance the Capitol has seen in a long time. 

“Is there anything left to say? Every hour of fear I spend, my body tries to cry, living through each empty night, a deadly call inside,” 

He looks around, engrossed faces all around him. Grandma’am’s eyes are glossed over, and Tigris is dabbing the corners of her eyes with a handkerchief. Your father is holding your mother’s hand, tight. Sejanus is upright, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. 

“I haven’t felt this way I feel, since many a years ago. But in those years and the lifetime passed, I did not deal with you, I know.” 

Your voice ceases, a lovely piano piece following your words, giving Coryo a chance to finally digest what he’s just heard. You’re professing great fondness for someone, admitting that the relationship is fading away, running its course. 

Your voice faintly picks back up, adding in a few lyrics to compliment the complex piano piece. 

“She said, ��Every night he will break your heart’, I should’ve known from the first, I’d be the broken hearted” 

Coryo’s chest is tight. You look up and out to the crowd, eyes falling onto his. He sees the emotion, the sadness. He knows that it’s his fault, and could’ve prevented it. 

“I loved you from the start, and now not all the prayers in the world, could save us, oh save us,”

The piano begins to slightly fade, and you stand from the bench, dress flowing as you make your way to the middle of the stage, bowing for the now standing and cheering audience, bouquets of flowers thrown to your feet. 

As you take your bow, your eyes are back on him, but this time, his hold the emotion. 

The show was a success, a vibrant grin across your beautiful face as you flitted around to greet all the guests. Various old family friends, distant relatives, even some of your professors at the Academy. 

After the performance, your parents find you first, kisses pressed to your cheek, and comforting hugs as tears slip from your mother’s eyes. 

“Panem hasn’t seen talent like yours in forever, darling.” Your father speaks, pride sparkling behind his eyes, bearing the same color as your own. 

You blush, nodding at his words, accepting his compliment. 

You break from them, finding the Plinth’s next. Sejanus gives you a kiss on each cheek, rambling about how your talent must have been given to you from the stars above. 

You giggle, letting him and his mother rain down on you with millions of compliments, all more enchanting than the last. 

“Thank you for being here, Mr. And Mrs. Plinth. It means so much,” you nod, taking Mrs. Plinth’s hands into yours. 

“Darling, believe me when I say you’ve just done something the Capitol hasn’t seen in decades. You will be more talk than the games, that’s for sure,” 

And with a kiss to your temple, Serbo Plinth walks away, Sejanus and his mother trailing. 

The room that all the guests were brought in after was a large room; high ceilings, a plush (likely expensive) rug, rows of tables with regal chairs, and various portraits of Panem’s most prominent leaders and talents up on the walls. 

You spotted the portrait of your father and Serbo Plinth easily, it was the largest in the room, other than the Presidential portrait. It was commissioned after the war, to show how your father and Mr. Plinth had been the greatest allies throughout the war, proving true to the president. 

You were sat at the center table, where everyone could come over to speak to you, or watch as you ate. Your fathers portrait hung above your seat, a silent expression of how the most successful in Panem continued to produce the best, and only the best. 

You looked at who would be sitting next to you, your father on your left, and Sejanus on your right. You were happy with that, you would speak to Sejanus through dinner, ask him how the games were going. 

You hadn’t been paying much attention to the mentorships after your dismissal, hearing bits and pieces from Clemensia during school. They had a small meeting, gathering information about their respective tribute. 

Excusing yourself quickly, despite the table still being empty as the guests continued to make conversation, you slipped through the crowds and went to the ladies room. 

You touched up on your makeup, and quickly returned back to the table. To your surprise, Coryo was now sitting in the seat that was labeled for Sejanus. 

You tried your hardest to act nonchalant as you sat back down, your father acknowledging your presence was a small pat on the knee, and then he turned back to Mr Plinth on his other side. Sejanus was now across the table from you, all sorts of different food items piled high on his fine china plate. 

Coryo’s eyes were burning into the side of your face, you could feel his harsh gaze. In all honesty, you were quite scared to turn to him. Your song was compassionate, and your deliverance of it was in the most public possible way. The best from the Capitol watching it in person, and everyone through the districts watching it on the soon-to-be Hunger Games broadcasting screens. 

You were the Gem of Panem, their princess. This had secured your place in society, you had established yourself among the most brilliant, the commanders, the leaders. You were proud of yourself. 

Criolanus stood from the table, going to gather food onto his plate. You hoped he would gather lots; it was all paid for by your father, and Coriolanus needed to eat. You always worried about him, even if you weren’t happy with him. 

He returned, plate piled up, like you hoped, and you accidentally slipped a small smile, a tiny corner of your mouth going up in happiness. 

Coryo caught it. He was always able to catch even the faintest changes in your expressions and demeanor. 

Once he had taken his seat, and loud conversation engulfed the room, you finally spoke. 

“I thought Sejanus was meant to be sat there,” you take a small bite of steamed carrots. 

“Last minute change, I suppose,” Coryo lightly shrugs his shoulders, turning his head to get a better look at you. 

“Mhm,” you breathe out, blush tickling your cheeks ever so lightly. 

“You played beautifully out there. And your voice, well, it’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever heard. Why didn’t you tell me you’d be singing?” Is that… hurt behind his words? You turn to look at him, eyes finally meeting, and you swear you see the faintest stain of tear tracks on his cheeks, filling your stomach with fulfillment. 

“Well, you’d been too busy. I didn’t want to burden you while you save your songbird,” you try your hardest to mask the words, but you know he can hear the venom and jealousy peeking out from behind them. 

He doesn’t look smug, no, he looks hurt. Extremely hurt. 

“Y/N,” he breathes out, placing his barely used fork onto the table. 

“I know you visited her the night that you came to me.” You whisper, composure starting to crumble. 

All he does is nod, proving your accusation to be true. You lightly slouch at his silence, so that was his response? He has nothing else to say? “Is that all you have to say?” you whisper, you knew if you tried to speak any louder your voice would crack, giving your emotion away. 

“What is there to say, Y/N? You played our song up there, The Snow Waltz. You sang a song about our relationship, one where the words insinuated that you had once loved me but my betrayal was too strong. Help me understand you, Y/N, how could I possibly respond to that?” He was closer to you now, downcast faces mere inches away. 

To any onlooker, you two would look like a few teenagers who had deep set feelings for each other, feelings that must be voiced at that very second. 

You had a feeling that he would be upset with your song choices, that it would hit him deep in the chest, give him the same feeling that he had recently been giving you. 

“I played your song because I love you. And then I sang that song because I want you to know that I don’t feel loved by you.” 

Coriolanus feels as if a blow has gone straight to his gut, knife clattering as he accidentally drops it on the table. 

His eyes are hard, unreadable. But they’re glossy, the only part that is giving him away. You read him better than any other person, and he knows this. 

He stands up, chair screeching as it pushes out behind him. You watch with wide eyes, staring up at him. He spares you one last solemn look, a slight shake of his head, before he is storming off, down the isles of tables and through hundreds of guests, straight to the doors. 

You feel possessed, your feet pulling you up and forcing you after him, feeling as if they have a mind of their own. Everyone is silenced now, eyes following your every move. The young, beautiful, and talented Mars girl chasing the abrasive, orphaned, tarnished Snow boy.

“Fool,” Persephone mutters under her breath, shaking her head.  

You find Coryo in the empty lobby, no one but you and him. 

He is pacing, hands in his hair, mumbles of inaudible words spilling from his perfect lips, you want to scream at him. Scream at him for showing up before the performance, scream at him for leaving your dinner. You want to scream at him for leaving your bed to see Lucy Gray, for telling you he loves you and then going and proving to do the opposite. 

“Coriolanus,” you announce your presence, slow steps up to his brooding figure as he ceases his pacing, eyebrows twisting together. 

He first ignores you, going and taking a seat on the golden bench beside the entrance for the auditorium. 

You walk over, perching next to him. He timidly reaches a hand out, laying it onto the red dress, smoothing down the thick material. 

“You assume the worst in me, Y/N.” he shakes his head, light amusement behind his words. 

“I already told you what I believe, Coriolanus. You tell me beautiful words, give me special moments. But you then contradict yourself, going back to her. I know you need to win the prize, I know, I know, but I love you. And you’re supposed to love me. And when you love someone, you don’t abandon them for another person,” tears brim on your eyes, threatening to spill out and ruin your flawless makeup. 

“I love you, more than anything in the entire planet, Y/N. Can’t you see that I am helping Lucy Gray to win because that prize ensures I can give us the future that we deserve. The future you deserve…I want to give that to you. To be able to continue to live your life as luxuriously as you do now. Dresses, jewelry, pianos. Anything you would ever want.” His voice is soft, wavering.

You stare at him, lips slightly parted, not expecting him to voice his deepest insecurities. 

“I don’t care about all those things, Croyo…” you murmur, grabbing his hands in his lap. 

“Darling, I just watched you play the most highly acclaimed piano concert that Panem has seen in decades. You are a spectacle, a performer. You love your piano, and your dresses, and all the things that make you pretty, the things that make you shine. You are meant to be a star.” his voice drips with desperation, embarrassment. He thinks the life he lives now isn’t good enough for you. 

“I need Lucy Gray to win so that I can give you the life full of luxury that you deserve. So that I can buy you a new piano every year, a new ruby ring every birthday. Darling, it’s all for you.” his hands come up, cupping your face. They are soft, rubbing your skin. 

“Love me, Coriolanus. Show me that you can.” 

With that, he grips your jaw, hard, and yanks you into him, a small whimper falling from your lips. He is rough, pent up anger finally spilling out. “I love you,” he murmurs out, kissing your chin. “I love you,” he’s now on your neck, sucking as hard as he can, being sure to leave marks. “I love you, more than anyone else,” 

He’s standing, pulling you up with him, his hands moving down to your biceps, lips back on top of yours, pulling you into the coat room. 

He locks the door behind you two, pressing you against it. 

His leg slotted between yours, keeping you pressed tight against the doorframe. His lips continued their vicious attack against your neck and collarbones, tongue gliding across the prominent bone. 

You watched as he slowly trailed further down your body, getting onto his knees. He pulled back from your skin, watched from below as you panted, trying to catch your breath. With a final smirk, he flipped up your skirt and disappeared under the hem, hiking one of your knees over his shoulder. 

Your breath hitched as you felt his hot breath over your clothed pussy, head falling back against the mahogany as he trailed a calloused finger over the red lace, cock twitching at the sound of your light moan. 

His fingers toy with the lace, before ripping it off your legs, you hear the lingerie tear. 

“Coryoooo,” you whine, upset that he just ruined your brand new panties. 

“I’ll get you some new ones, darling,” he promises, throwing the disheveled garment to some corner of the closet. He grins, knowing some Avox will find the star performers panties sometime later tonight, and know she was fucked in the coat closet. 

Before you have time to prepare yourself, Coryo is licking a strip up your folds, and then his mouth is sucking on your bud, whimpers falling from your lips, your hands digging into the wooden walls of the room. 

Your head is thrown back in pleasure, Coryo lapping you up, his lips ravenging you at an unbearable speed, pressure begging to brew in your stomach. 

He knows the easiest way to get you undone is to give you head, and lucky you, he loved to do it. 

His one hand squeezing the fat in your ass, kneading the sensitive skin. 

You moan, loudly, when his tongue starts to circle around your clit, and he squeezes your ass extra hard: a warning. 

The burning sensation in your core continues as he enters two fingers, pumping in and out of you at a relentless pace. Though you can’t see him, you know that he is smirking, hearing you fall apart above him.

Finally, the mix of his two fingers, tongue, and thumb rubbing circles around your clit causes you to finally come undone, legs shaking as Coryo drinks up all the juices you spill. His rough hands hold your legs up, and soon he’s out from under the dress, lips quick to attach to yours, making you taste all of your juices on his tongue. 

He pulls away and smiles at you, “I love you,” he whispers, brushing your hair from in front of your face, fingers delicate and soft. 

“I love you,” you smile, lightly melting into his touch. 

“Can I fuck you now?” he smirks, a mischievous glint to eyes, fingers rubbing your jaw. “Please, pretty thing? I’ll show you just how much I love you…I’ll fuck it into you,” 

His lips are re-attacking your neck, hands pulling down the zipper of your beautiful dress. 

“When I’m president,” he pants out, your hands tangled in his hair, humming, 

“I’m hanging this dress up for everyone to see, the most beautiful dress ever worn,” he finished, attacking your lips with his own. He’s sure your lipstick is smeared across his chin, likely off the corners of his lips. He doesn’t care, everyone should know that you’re his. He is the one who gets to kiss you, gets to fuck you. 

He helps you step out of it, gently placing it over a near chair, not wanting to ruin the masterpiece. 

“In fact, I’ll have a whole wing dedicated to you, my love. It’ll have dresses, coats, portraits..” you shut him up sucking on the sweet spot under his right ear, knowing it turns him on the most. 

And you are right, watching him tear off his black coat and shred off his slacks, left in his boxers and white button down. He pulls you back into him, watching with lust blown pupils as your perfectly painted fingernails unbutton all the way down the shirt. You help him remove it, discarding it to the pile of his other clothing. 

Then, his boxers are tugged down, carelessly kicked off, and he’s back to you, pressing you harder into the wall. 

He tells you to jump, and you oblige, legs wrapped around his hips as he lines himself up with you. “Just one more, princess,” he mewls, noticing your sudden nervousness. You nod, knowing Coryo would stop if you became too overstimulated. 

You dig your head into his shoulder, biting the hard skin as he pushes in, your pussy taking him so perfectly that he almost passes out. 

The two of you hadn’t had sex in weeks. Sure, you had done other things, but you hadn’t done the thing that ties two people so closely together, barring ever single part of themselves. 

His hands are secure around your ass, moving you in synchronization while he relentlessly continues to bottom out in you. 

“Coryo,” you moan, slightly muted by it being said deep into his shoulder. 

“Taking me so well, baby,” he groans, feeling himself slowly untie. You feel the same sensation, his dick hitting your sweet spot so perfectly with every thrust. 

You wrap an arm around his shoulders, and then move your free hand down between the two of you, massaging circular motions to your clit. 

Coryo goes even faster, earning whines and various other noises from your lips, beginning to squirm from the sensitivity. 

“Come for me, darling,” he says, eyes following your every movement. You begin to massage faster, head falling back against the mahogany door as his thrusts become sloppier. 

The two of you come undone at the same time, Coryo lightly leaning against your body, slipping out before delicately dropping your leg. 

He makes sure you’re able to stand up before walking away, gathering your dress, and helping you step back into it. He ties the corset, and then the zipper.

He slips back into his outfit, pulling up the slacks and sliding his feet into the shoes. You button up his top, and smooth down the collar. You go to run your fingers through his now slightly tangled curls, making them look as perfectly curled as they were when he arrived to the show. 

Finally, he gets down on one knee, holding your heels. You prop a bare foot onto his knee, looking down at him with lust-blown pupils, swollen lips, your hair slightly messy and smudged lipstick. How he got so lucky, he has no idea. 

He slides the expensive heel delicately onto your foot, like he’s scared of hurting you. As he begins to buckle it close, he cuts the silence. 

“I love you, Y/N Mars. I love everything about you. Your voice, your eyes, your spirit. I love your dedication, your talent that so very few possess. I love how you care for me, and make sure I’m alright, always bringing me whatever I need. They say that love can arise from the most unsuspecting of places, and in my case, that was you. As a child, I would trail you like a lost puppy, always seeking your validation, some sort of indication that you saw me, knew me. I know we’ve had our initial clashes, loud, aggressive fights in the middle of class or in lunch, and I know you don’t always listen to me, and I don’t always listen to you, but you see me differently than anyone else, you see a side of me that I don’t know to anyone else. And amongst the original animosity, I found myself drawn to you, seeking your approval. The deeper I got to know you, the more I began to fall for you. Everything I’ve done, every person I’ve hurt, it’s all been for you. And now, here I am, professing my undying love for you. Love that will burn for as long as I live, as long as you’re by my side.” 

You are speechless, mouth agape, Coriolanus’s glossy eyes raking over all your features. You were bewildered, wondering how something so romantic could come out of a man’s mouth who was simply doing-up your shoes. 

He is still down on one knee, and once he’s finished your other shoe, you pull him up, arms winding tightly around his waist. 

His large hands rub your back, holding you as close as possible. You dig your face into his chest, his chin atop your head. 

A slight sniffle, and then you murmur out, “I love you, Coriolanus. I don’t know how I could’ve doubted you.” Persephone’s words echo in the back of your head, over and over again, “fool”.

**

tagged

@snowsgames

[ambros1an]

acheron — persephone

warnings: spoilers for Acheron backstory & real name, loosely!! based off hades and persephone myth, gn! reader, implied nihility emanator reader

summary: Acheron, who is tasked with ferrying the dead comes across an unusual guest. A living person.

In hades, “the drowned ask for help, lament with songs, find their happiness, enjoy sweet moments, and suffer great agony.”

In hades, the shadows reach out to grasp her ankles in an effort to free themselves from the river of woe; unaware they have long since departed. Their hands are just wisps of something that once was.

In hades, an end does not exist.

Nonetheless, it is her duty to guide lost souls back to the other side, no matter how pointless the task.

In memories long ago, she encountered few travelers, Frebass, Tiernan, all met their departure within the Nihility.

One drowned beneath the sea, picking apart her bones till she was nothing. The other lingered for years, maybe decades, unaware of his own death.

However, you seemed unaware of your own life.

You stood there looking up at the sin thirsters, your feet planted in the water. The constant rain pouring down, drenching your clothes.

“This is no place for the living,” she said, “you must be cold, follow me.”

Guiding the dead was what she was used to. Her title, Acheron, was a river upon which souls of the deceased were ferried across. But not the living. Not even when she was Mei did she avoid bloodshed.

She shepherded you across the black sea in a run-down boat. It bobbed up and down in the water, the sin thirsters nearly turning it over with their claws. They could sense the living. One sight of the sword had them shrinking away.

She led you to a cave which hadn’t been used in sometime. It was damp, droplets slid down the wall of the cavern. The only warmth came from the fire the hooded figure put together.

“Usually those that come to IX are dead or planning to die. You don’t look like either. What brought you?” Acheron broke the silence.

“Death. I must be dead,” you say. It was as if you woke up after a long period of time. Nothing looked familiar. Nothing, not even your last memories gave any hints.

She shook her head, “I guide those who are departed. Those ‘shadows’ were the dead. You certainly aren’t like them.”

“So, I’m alive?” You look at your hands. They were still flesh, and not shadow.

Acheron nods, “Mmm, for now.”

For now? Your eyes widen at the response. Backing up against the wall, you look for the words to say but your mouth just opens and closes. Is she going to kill you?

She looks over to you, expressionless, she reaches into her cloak and throws out a peach at you. “There’s a storm coming. It’ll be a long one. Not to worry, I will guide you,” and this time I won’t fail.

To consume the fruit of the underworld meant to be binded. To be indebted to Hades.

The peach lands in your hand. “Guide me?”

“To lead you out of here. To take you back to the mortal realm.”

With the peach in your hands, you stare at it. The bleak monochrome world of IX comes back to you. The wispy shadows pooling around your feet. Every step making a splash in its waters. Staying any longer…

You look back to the woman who’s called “Acheron,” who led you to shelter, who created warmth in the form of a flame, who leads the dead to a new life. Although her expression never changed, her words were always sincere.

“I trust you,” you take a bite of the peach, “but first, what’s your name?” You ask in between chews.

“…..Raiden Bosenmori Mei,” she mumbles but her words sound more like a whisper, something that should’ve been left unsaid, “But Acheron is fine.”

The only response that follows is the rain beating against the roof, and the flames licking against wood.

“Hey,” she says, “six months. That’s all I need. Just don’t forget when the six months are up,” Acheron grins, “Persephone.”

@ryeins

a/n: this was so hard bc I didn’t want to make it creepy like the og myth but also not ooc. also readers nihility influences them to lose their sense of self (hence the whole dead thing)! lore

[actually-well-written]

modern AU Luffy x reader. pregnancy when you broke up. Pure Fluff

Inspired: season 8 episode 24 of FRIENDS; @portgasbru

trigger warning: swearing and description of birth 

I know Luffy's a little of out character, but I thought that in the modern world he would be a little less childish and a bit of a burnt out adult. A person that was a very energetic and silly kid, but grow up in a not so free feeling world. Unlike his anime. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Deep breaths. Deep breaths." Luffy repeats, soothing her back and rubbing her forearm.

"MY BREATHS CAN'T GET ANY DEEPER!!!" She shouts out despite being out of breath. "Help me out of bed, I need to walk." She demands, holding out her hand for him to grab.

He springs out of the bed and helps her feet onto the floor. Grabbing into her side and her arm, they start pacing around the hospital room, Luffy holding her close.

Her pants and groans of pain, die down just a little bit as they both rub her swollen belly and take slow steps.

"Oh good Lord!" She whines out, the sweat on her forehead causing her hair to stick to her face. "Luffy, I swear to fucking God, I hate you so much!"

"What did I do?!" He asks, dewildered.

"You did this to me!!"

"Well, it was really a team effort." He jokes, rubbing his neck for self comfort.

She stops in her tracks and glares at him, taking a deep breath as her contraction stops for the moment.

Luffy holds (y/n) by her waist and looks over her stomach, he sighs anxiously, "this baby sure is takin' its time."

"No kidding."

Near the end of last year, Luffy and (y/n) broke up, and as fate would have it, about three days after, (y/n) found out she was pregnant.

Despite all that happened, she told Luffy, he is the father, it was in his right for him to know. (Y/n) Of course made it clear she didn't want him to do anything he didn't want to or become a part of something so sudden with hardly any preparation, but he wanted to be in the baby's life and she did always wanted children.

Thus, they agreed to have the baby, and share custody. Nothing more, nothing less. They could be parents and not have to be forced to date again.

Nine months later and after some preparations, her water broke and they rushed to the hospital. Now waiting for her to fully dilate in a semi private room, at the moment, no other person was in the room.

Luffy sets himself next to (y/n) and carefully wraps his arms around her, placing loving hand on her belly and laying his head on a pillow.

"...Luffy? Can I tell you something?" She whispers.

"Yeah?"

"I'm really scared right now."

"Scared?" He repeats, raising an eyebrow.

"Everyone and their mom's been telling me horror stories of deliveries gone wrong and yeah, I know pain was always gonna happen, but now that it's actually happening, im-im scared."

Luffy glances to the side, licking his lips as if the confession wasn't shocking at all. "It's ok, bab-(y/n). Everythin's gonna be fine."

"You don't know that." She whispers, crossing her arms in a self hug.

"Yes I do. Everythin' will be fine. This baby will be happy and healthy-well. Maybe not happy, babies come out crying right? Healthy then. Definitely healthy." He reassures, getting a little sidetracked.

She giggles, rubbing a circle on her stomach, "yeah?"

"Yeah. I promise."

The two smile and stare at each other. (Y/n) Awkwardly giggles and looks away.

"...you know what we haven't done?" She asks, changing the subject. "Agree on a name."

Luffy's expression immediately drops and he crosses his arms, turning away from her, "I'm telling you, Solo is an amazin' name."

"We are not naming our-could-be son after Han Solo!!"

"HE'S SO AMAZING!!" He raises his arms to his side in protest. "And we are not namin' our-could-be daughter Persephone."

"I don't like Persephone anymore." She confesses, placing a soothing hand on one of her swollen ankles.

"Good!"

"I was thinking, if it's a girl, Céleste?"

"Céleste...." He repeats in a whisper. "Yeah, I'm good with that."

"And if it's a boyyyy...." She trials off tilting her head to the side as if it follows her sentence. "Ace."

Luffy snaps his head around and raises his eyebrows in an annoyed expression, "that's not funny."

She laughs softly, running a hand through her hair. Her sweat wetting her palm. "It's a little funny."

He doesn't reply, but leans against the headboard, "Arie." He deadpans, staring down at the foot of the bed. "If it's a boy, Arie."

"....Arie," she repeats, smiling to herself, "ok, Arie it is."

"Welp, that took us longer than it should have." He chuckles, combing his hat hair with his fingers.

She takes notice, biting a nail, a habit she hopes doesn't pass onto her baby. "Luffy? Why did you take off your hat?"

"Huh?"

"Your hat." She points to his signature straw hat sitting on the beige night stand next to the bed.

"Oh, um-"

"You don't like taking it off. You wore it to our first date. Hell, you wore it when we were conceiving this thing." She chuckles, gesturing to her belly.

"Hehe, yeah, that thing's seen a lot." He whispers, a light blush on his cheeks.

"Why'd you take it off?"

Luffy pauses, and scratches his neck for the possible millionth time now, and glances around the room to not meet her eyes.

"Uh, the doctor looked at me kinda funny when she saw me wearin' it."

"So? I've seen you wear that thing with a full fancy suit."

"Well, I..I need to mature a little, don't you think?"

"What?! No! Where is this coming from? Who are you?! Luffy wouldn't say that!"

"I'm gonna be a father now, (y/n), I need to start actin' my age-"

"Don't ever say that again." She pouts, glancing down at his shirt to avoid eye contact, "I like that you're immature, you've always made me laugh and it's admirable how you're never afraid to be yourself in any situation. Why would you want to change that?"

He pauses, taking his head off the headboard and putting his arms between his legs, his elbows resting on his knees.

"Please, put it back on." She tucks a hair behind her ear, "It makes me anxious when you take it off."

"Huh? Why?" He raises his head a little.

"Because! It makes you look serious, especially when you're frowning. How am I supposed to be less scared, if you look like your getting ready for something bad?"

Luffy sighs, seeing her worried expression. Without saying anything, he reaches towards the nightstand and places his hat back on his head, not bothering to adjust the string.

(Y/n) Also stays silent, laying her head right under his shoulder, her fingers gently adjusting the string to tighten perfectly around Luffy's jawline.

He let's her, not speaking or moving, not even watching, instead focusing on the outside world, right through the room window. Watching as the people walk by, probably none of them having to deal with an accidental pregnancy or the complicated feelings it brings.

"Can you....talk?" She asks, softly, lowering her hands from the string and placing them on her lap.

"What?" He snaps his focus back to her, forcing his gaze away from the couple below sitting in a park bench as they drink coffee together. A bittersweet nostalgia feeling eating at his heart.

She frowns softly, her eyes feeling with a bit of anxiousness. "Talk. About...anything really. I love hearing you talk." She whispers, remembering all the times she used to ask him to talk in order to fall asleep.

"Anything?" He snorts, "don't get me started." He crosses his arms and titles his head, thinking of something to say that would help her forget about basically pushing out a nine pound bowling ball.

"I saw the trailer for a movie, but I don't remember what the movie was called. So I made Zoro drive me to the movie theater, to see if I could recognize it by the poster. Turns out it wasn't a movie, it was an ad for car insurance."

She laughs and grabs his arm, "how do you mix that up?"

"Ads are becoming movie level, (y/n). Don't judge me!" He giggles, playfully scolding her. "Anyways, I bought popcorn and then me and Zoro went to go see Oppenheimer instead."

"Is it good? I haven't watched it yet."

"Yeah, it was. Really loud though." He explains, rubbing his ears as if he can still hear it perfectly.

"I wanna see sonic three!" She states, bouncing her feet on the bed slightly.

"Oooh, me too!" His eyes lights up in excitement, the exact way she likes them. "Let's go see it when it comes out!"

"Uh, when it does, we'll have a seven month old."

"We'll take 'em with us!"

" I don't think the other people there would appreciate that." She giggles.

"Oh, right. Fuck." He exclaims, scratching his leg while thinking of a new solution.

She smiles brightly at him, reaching towards his hat and fixing it to balance better on his head. The action causes Luffy to pause and watch her as her eyes glance at him more times than actually needed.

She puts her hand on the bed, in the space between the two. He clears his throat and rubs his cheek.

"I've...I've been thinking." He starts, placing his arm across her back, rubbing his leg nervously.

"You can think?" She jokes, Luffy only ignoring it.

".....I think-"

The door opens, causing (y/n) and Luffy to turn. The doctor walks in, putting on clean new gloves. "Nineteen hours." She exclaims, stopping right at the foot of the bed, "How you doing?"

"Like if this baby doesn't come out now, I'm gonna cut my stomach open and make 'em." She deadpans, causing Luffy to widen his eyes.

The doctor nods in understanding, checking her dilation, an action (y/n) unfortunately became used too. "Welp, you're in luck."

"I'm sorry?" Luffy asks, getting off the bed in shock. The contraption pain forgotten for (y/n).

"You're fully dilated. Let's go have this baby." She proudly announces, calling in nurses to help move the bed.

"Wait-wait. No-what? What. What!?" She panics, as they roll her away into the hallways, Luffy right next to her, holding her hand. "I'm not ready for this!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!!" (y/n) Sobs out, inhaling rapidly.

"Ok, we stop in five seconds." The doctor announces. "Five.......four-"

"Threetwoone!" (Y/n) Whines out, immediately stopping and laying her head on the angled bed. Panting and crying.

"You're doing great, (y/n)." Luffy praises, moving the hair from her face. Her sweat sticking to his finger. His other hand wrapped around her leg, helping her keep them open.

"Take a break, alright? breathe and we start again in ten minutes." The doctor explains, pushing her chair away slightly.

"No. No. No. I can't. I can't push anymore." She whimpers, covering her face with a hand as she cries.

"Yes, yes you can, (y/n). You're the strongest woman I know." Luffy reassures, adjusting his grip.

"Talk. Talk. Talk. Please. Luffy, please." She pants. Grabbing onto the sheets and she pushes herself up more.

"Uh-um. I-I don't know what to say." He awkwardly laughs, whipping the sweat from his palms on one of the pillows.

"What were you gonna tell me? Back in the room, you were gonna tell me something."

"Oh. That, um. Can that wait-"

"Please. Please. Please. I-I need a distraction." She begs, closing her eyes tightly.

"I ... I was just gonna say that.... I think we should try again."

"Try what?" She asks, turning her head to look at him.

"Us." He exclaims, "when-when we broke up. I-I actually died. Like my chest hurt and I couldn't get out of bed. Then when you told me you were pregnant, I immediately thought that we should get back together." He confesses. "But you know, you told me you didn't want that, and I wanted to respect it, but after all these months, I kept missing you. You were right there, but I couldn't call you mine anymore and I missed it."

He glances at the floor and gulps, "I-I think we should try again. We have a kid now, we should be a family. I want to be a family. And I think you do too." He pauses, "I know I didn't say it enough when we were together, but I love you. I love you a lot and I don't think it can ever go away, because it can barely even fit in my body."

(Y/n) Stays silent, looking up at him with a wide eyed expression, her sobs causing her body to shake a bit and her tears still spill out of her eyes.

Luffy glances around the room, and clears his throat, "can you say something?" He whispers.

"...I don't know what to say." She confesses.

".... Say you still love me too."

"I do still love you." She breathed, "and honestly? When I found out I was pregnant, I hoped that it meant we got to try again, but I was scared, because what happens if we get hurt again and our baby gets in the mix."

"We won't get hurt again." He insisted, "I know I'm an idiot and pretty dumb, and I don't make good decisions, but it's okay, because you're amazing and perfect and i would learn calculus for you. I know with all my being we'll do it right this time. You deserve it, I deserve it. They deserve it."

They both pause and stare at each other in full love and tenderness. Leaning in, they smash their lips together in a passionate kiss. The hat sliding backwards a little and he places his hand on her cheek, they continue the kiss for a few more seconds.

The doctor places her hand on her heart and cooes. "I'm gonna call my baby daddy after this." One of the nurses whispers. The other three nod in understanding.

"Ok, if you guys are ready let's finish this up." The doctor pushed her chair closer, placing her hands on the bed.

The two pull away and turn back towards the doctor, "yes, please." (Y/n) Exclaims, the pain intensifying as another contraption starts. Luffy wraps his arm around her leg again and hold her hand with his other.

"Ok, now. Push."

She continues to push and cry, repeating the action for the next hour, when finally. The room is filled with baby cries.

(Y/n) Screams and sobs for the last time as she watches Luffy cut the umbilical cord. The nurse holds up the baby in front of them. "It's a boy." She says softly, before taking him away.

(Y/n) And Luffy smile at each other, he wipes away her tears, and she traced the scar on his cheek, a small action she didn't know she missed doing.

The nurse gives back the baby, now wrapped in a blue blanket. (Y/n) Takes him and places him perfectly in her arms. Luffy kisses him in his forehead as (y/n) admires him.

"Do we have a name?" A nurse asks, her hands on her hips, admiring the baby as well.

"Arie." Luffy and (y/n) reply in union, before glancing back at each other. They smile brightly, before sharing another kiss, the hat falling off this time, the string tugging on Luffy's neck a bit.

[maraudersidk]

Female percy weasley (persephone) is so good like trust guys.

THE DEPTH OF HER AND GINNYS RELATIONSHIP. Like its giving girl, so confusing.

Also her and molly because mother daughter relationships are heartbreaking.(that one scene from ladybird, the whole movie actually)

HER WANTING TO BE MINISTER OF MAGIC AS A WOMAN!!!!LIKE THE ANGST

Everything is better when its women. They make me sick.

ALSO HER AND OLIVER WOULD BE THE GIRL AND BOY PREFECTS😝😝😝. Like ok i see u. Rendezvous during their rounds 100%.

Also oliver would be prefect cuz he would be the only male gryffindor.

Also her leaving and having the fight with arthur would be 10x more angsty cuz thats his baby girl like she was his first daughter and she definitely was a daddys girl growing up-she wanted to work in the ministry and her dad alr did so.

Also i made up a gc that prefects and head girl/boys get their own private dorms and it has a little common room and her and oliver would sit there at night and talk (make out)

ALSO this is alr my hcs for male percy i just wanna clarify cuz it feels like if i dokt im making her into an object between them all but:

her and marcus having a cute little relationship in fourth year cuz she was tutoring him, him being nicer to oliver off the pitch cuz she asked, oliver watching them and trying to not let his jealousy show. Marcus being perse's first friend other than oliver (who she thought only hung out with her for charlie or because of her notes) him showing her how amazing and smart she really is and fighting any slytherins who made comments abt her hair or looks or clothes. Marcus building up her confidence🤍.

Them breaking up in fifth year (it was mutual no bad blood they're besties) she starts talking to a hufflpuff named daniel (OC) him being a prefect so oliver always has to deal with his presence and be hates it because as much as he tries he can't hate him because hes just so nice. Daniel noticing how oliver looks at her and seeing how she looks at oliver (she didnt realize yet) Daniel giving little hints to help her see her feelings. Him comforting her and being so understanding when she does.

THEN SIXTH YEAR HAPPENS *this one's a doozy* perse was planning on talling oliver her feelings at the beginning of the year (after about 100 letters from marcus and daniel hyping her up - marcus threatening to beat him up and daniel sayung she should get chocolates). BUT when she was about to talk to him when they got bsck to school she sees oliver accepting a date from a girl named Sophie (sephie-sophie, see what i did there) in the year below, her running away and ignoring oliver for as long as she can. Perse befriending roger davies and they decide on a no strings attached (daniel did not approve, marcus found it hilarious and asked to join). Oliver goes ok the date but ends up rambling about perse for most of it ("shes so smart", "her hair is so pretty", "shes so helpful with my quidditch plays") sophie trying to ignore it until she can't and confronts him about it at the end of the date. Oliver apologies like crazy and end up spilling the past six years to sophie (shes too nice for her own good). They end uo with a weird tension between them up until right before Christmas break they make up and give each other gifts (no confession yet). Atp roger is just perse's theapist and gives her advice while they slack off on rounds to sneak to the kitchen. Near the end of the year the stress of exams and just generally everything that happened that year and penny (roger introduced penny and perce and they're THAT duo) they end up blowing up on each other and cue angry love confession.

I don't have all of this thought out but this was a very very summurised version of what happened (theres sm more angst for perce😁) this was supposed to be a trans perce psot but turned into perciver. What can is say guys they have me in a chokehold.

I might talk more about this cuz shes consuming me and she's so me. Sorry for the rant🤷🏻‍♀️

[dark-elf-writes]

Izuku is claimed by Persephone as he cries over the flower that he was trying to protect from Bakugou.

It was just a fragile little thing.

A late bloom standing in defiance of the turning of the season, stubbornly clinging to life even as the air turned colder. Such a delicate thing that refused to stand down.

Izuku loved it immediately.

And like most things Izuku loved, Kacchan wanted it rendered to ash.

“Move, stupid Deku!” Kacchan growled at them, eyes burning as hot as his hands as he reached down toward the delicate bloom.

Izuku felt that burning on their own skin. Felt the coming explosion down in their very bones.

They refused to back down, head tipping back in defiance as they lifted their hands like some of the heroes do before a fight. For the second time in their life they looking into Bakugou Katsuki’s burning eyes and felt a fire of their own spark in their chest.

“No.”

After, when Izuku was burned and broken and crying over the scorch mark that was once that flower, they wanted to scream. Stupid, weak, useless Deku who couldn’t even save a flower.

They didn’t hear the footsteps approaching. Didn’t they even notice they weren’t alone until slender fingers slid under their chin and tipped their head up to see the lady kneeling on the ground next to them.

She looked like she should be cold, was Izuku’s first thought. Her dress would have looked more in place in the middle of summer. Green and flowing and covered in flowers that Izuku could have sworn swayed and moved like they were alive. She wore a crown too, white and odd compared to the flowers woven into her dark hair. They wouldn’t realize until years later that it was made of bone.

The deep brown skin around her eyes wrinkled as she smiled at them, blood red lips that seemed to drip with some kind of juice dragging up in a smile that was full of far too many red stained teeth.

She was the most beautiful person Izuku had ever seen.

She was the most terrifying person Izuku had ever seen.

“My little warrior,” She crooned to them, wiping the tears from their cheeks and leaving a trail of that juice in their place. “Do it weep so.”

Izuku hiccuped, feeling their burns throb in time with their heartbeat. “He killed it! It wasn’t hurting anyone, and he killed it!”

The lady’s smile was sad and her red stained fingers traced over Izuku’s cheeks again. “Such is the way of men who believe themselves strong, little warrior. They exert their dominion over any and all they deem lesser, but only the truly brave dare to stand against them.”

“I couldn’t stop him,” They whispered feeling something tearing deep in their chest. A flower ripped from its roots and left to wither.

“Not yet, sweet warrior, but you will grow strong. You will be the one to make tyrants waver. The one who will stand in the face of men who scream their dominance and teach them what it means to be small and afraid. My champion of green and growing things.”

Izuku wasn’t sure what she meant. Wasn’t sure they entirely wanted to. They smiled at her anyway.

The lady leaned down and pressed a kiss to their forehead. Izuku could feel the hot wetness left behind even as the throbbing pain started to fade. “My Izuku,” She breathed, and it wouldn’t be until later that they realized they had never told her their name, “carry my blessing in your heart, and teach the strong what it means to be afraid.”

When they blinked they were alone with a flower in full bloom in their palm and sticky red juice over their face and hands.

Izuku planted that flower in a little pot on their windowsill that night, but no matter how hard they scrubbed the red mark on their forehead in the shape of lips refused to fade.

[batmanlovesnirvana]

Chapter sixteen | my mercy prevails over my wrath

masterlist

pairing : battinson x fem!oc (can be read as x reader)

words : +4k

A/N : time to meet the Incel :)

previous chapter

MY MERCY PREVAILS OVER MY WRATH.

My mercy prevails over my wrath. My mercy prevails over my wrath.

Like a gentle river flowing over jagged stones, softening the edges of anger with its quiet touch, Maryam's mercy mirrors the myth of Persephone's return from the underworld—a bittersweet act that tamed Hades' darkness and brought renewal to a barren earth. It is the calm before the storm, a silent strength rising from deep within, soothing the fury that seeks to consume, much like how Psyche's love melted Eros' hidden sorrow. In its embrace, Maryam finds not weakness, but the power to choose forgiveness over vengeance, understanding over judgment, as Prometheus chose the fire of hope over the vengeance of the gods. 

It is, after all, the whisper of compassion that drowns out the roar of resentment, a light that flickers brightly, even in the darkest of storms. 

And in that light, Maryam is reminded that mercy, like love, holds the strength to heal what wrath can only break—an enduring myth of its own.

And so the words echo softly in her mind, rising like an incantation against the darkness. The same words her father once whispered to her in hushed tones, so long ago that she can barely recall the timbre of his voice, though the warmth of those moments lingers still.

My mercy prevails over my wrath.

The mantra repeats.

My mercy prevails over my wrath.

A sacred Hadith, her father had called it—a divine reminder that compassion, forgiveness, and hope are not signs of weakness, but profound sources of strength.

The words echoed through Maryam's mind, a steady rhythm that refused to fade. Had she been too blunt? Too harsh? Too unpredictable with Bruce?

She replayed their conversation in her thoughts, dissecting every word, every glance, every pause. Doubt began to creep in, coiling around her resolve. Mercy. Wrath. Wraith. Where did she stand? What did he see in her ?

Her guilt gnawed at her. Bruce had a way of looking at her—calm, unyielding, as though he could see the fractures she tried so hard to hide. She hated that look. It was too understanding, too patient, as if he saw past her barbs and coldness, straight to the girl she used to be before Gotham had hardened her edges.

But tonight, she had gone too far—or perhaps just far enough to undo everything. The flicker of hurt in his eyes haunted her, like a candle flame struggling against the wind, snuffed out too quickly by the familiar mask of stoic indifference he wore so well. 

Especially when she mentioned his parents. 

"Going out at night, beating up petty criminals. For what? Vengeance? For who? Your parents?"

"Would they have wanted this? To go down that twisted path? I didn't know them—but you did. So, you tell me."

The words tasted bitter as she recalled them, sharp and cruel in hindsight. It wasn't her place to say this. She knew it, and he knew it too. The way he had said her name after she blurted it out—"Maryam"—was all the proof she needed. 

Not the usual soft Maryam, not even Milou. It was clipped, cold, severing. A verbal knife that cut through the space between them.

Gone were those names, those anchors to their fragile intimacy. She had struck a nerve—deeply, unflinchingly—and Bruce, for all his walls and armor, could not hide it.

Not for the first time, no. She had tested his patience before, pried open wounds he had thought long buried. But this time felt different. Final. As if the thread tethering them together had frayed beyond repair, leaving only the jagged ends to mock what once was.

Her hand brushed absentmindedly over the spot where his lips had grazed her skin—an afterthought of a kiss, empty and mechanical. The gesture lingered like a phantom touch, mocking her as she climbed the creaking stairwell to her apartment. Each step echoed her regret, a hollow rhythm she couldn't escape.

He had said it himself, his voice as cold and unyielding as the Gotham rain that had drenched them both that night:

"I need you to be alright," he had murmured, the words breaking like fragile glass between them. His tone, low and almost broken, was a voice he reserved only for her—soft, careful, intimate. But this time, it felt different. Worn. Fractured. "And for that... I need to let you go. It's better this way."

It's better this way. It's better this way. It's better this way.

The phrase looped through her mind, relentless as a ticking clock, each repetition driving deeper into her chest. Was it better, though?

Her heart screamed the question, but no answer came, only the echo of his words blending with the sound of her boots against the damp stairwell steps. She wouldn't cry. She couldn't. Crying would mean admitting he had broken something in her, something she wasn't sure could be fixed.

Don't, her thoughts snapped, commanding her like a voice separate from her own. He doesn't deserve your tears.

But then came the traitorous whisper, soft as a dying ember: Does he?

Because hadn't he always been the one to hold her steady when the ground beneath her crumbled? The one to catch her when she stumbled, even when she never asked him to? 

Hadn't he done everything right? He had been patient where others had fled, steady where she had wavered. He'd saved her—more than once—and stayed when there was no obligation, no reason beyond his own impossible sense of duty. He had insisted on protecting her, even as she threw up walls, spitting venom to keep him at bay.

And yet, he had walked away tonight. For her. For her.

The thought stung, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. He had given her what she never asked for but secretly craved—a chance at something deeper, something real—and now he was tearing it away. All because he thought it would save her.

She didn't know what hurt more: the ache of losing him, or the realization that he believed she couldn't be saved with him by her side.

And now, as she stood at the edge of her own undoing, she could see it so clearly—her mistakes, her cruelty, the ways she had twisted her fear into weapons to push him further away. Bruce had already been a fortress of stoicism, and yet she had built more walls between them, brick by brick.

Maryam was never liked that but only with the people she despite, yes, she was usually kind and understanding, but with him, she was stressed out at how he was acting with her, like no one ever had before, that she decided to be that bratty and mean person to ho.

And now, as she stood at the edge of her own undoing, everything came into sharp focus—the mistakes she could no longer take back, the sharp edges of her words, the armor of cruelty she had worn to keep him at bay. She had used her fear like a weapon, twisting it into barbs and walls that pushed him further away. Bruce, who was already a fortress of stoicism, had faced her endless defenses with quiet patience, never flinching. Yet she had added to the distance, brick by brick, until there was nothing left between them but shadows.

Maryam wasn't like that. Not with most people. She prided herself on being kind, on understanding others, on offering the compassion she rarely received. But with him, she had been different. Stressed by how he treated her—with care, with persistence, with a gentleness no one else dared to show—she had lashed out. As if trying to prove she didn't need it, didn't need him. She had chosen to become someone bratty, mean, and unyielding, simply because he saw her in ways no one else did.

And now, she regretted it all. Every sharp remark, every cold silence, every moment she had stolen from herself by refusing to let him in. She had spent so long keeping her gates locked that when she finally opened them, it was too late. Bruce had already turned away, retreating into his own shadows, leaving her to stand in the ruins of what could have been.

And she missed him. God, she already missed him.

Her vision blurred, tears threatening to spill as they welled up in her eyes. Red and raw, they clung to the edges of her resolve, daring her to give in. But she wouldn't cry. Not here. Not yet.

Her trembling fingers fumbled with the keys, the cold metal biting into her skin as the hallway's oppressive silence wrapped around her like a second skin. Each breath felt too loud, her pulse thudding in her ears. Just as she thought she might drown in the quiet—

"Hey!"

The soft voice startled her. She turned to see Vera standing at the edge of her slightly ajar door, her pajamas rumpled, dark curls loose around her face. It was as if she had been waiting for this moment, listening for Maryam's footsteps on the stairs. Vera—her neighbor, the woman who had dragged her to the Iceberg Lounge not long ago, begging for company on a whim that Maryam reluctantly indulged. That night had been a calculated move for her—a chance to dig up dirt on Vittorio Falcone, but it had yielded nothing. Nothing but the taste of failure and the growing chaos that followed.

The city had only gotten worse since then: the Riddler's cryptic terror, a serial killer preying on women, shadows that felt heavier than usual. She hadn't even spoken to Alma since the mayor's funeral, too caught up in everything that followed.

Maryam forced a shallow breath, steeling herself to look presentable. She could only hope her eyes weren't betraying her. If they did, she would lie.

"Hi, Vera." She forced a smile, her voice raspier than intended. Clearing her throat, she tried again, adding a faint laugh. "How are you? Haven't seen you since that... night."

Vera studied her carefully, eyes scanning her up and down, the concern evident in her knitted brow. "Are you okay?"

Maryam's breath caught, her hands instinctively tightening on her keys. "What?" she asked, too quickly.

Vera gestured vaguely, her gaze lingering on her face. "Your eyes. They're red."

"Oh—yeah. Don't worry!" Maryam let out a forced chuckle, waving her hand dismissively. "It's just the cold. You know how it gets."

For a moment, Vera hesitated, but then she smiled, her expression softening in understanding. "Tell me about it. It's freezing out there lately."

"Yeah," Maryam murmured, hoping the conversation would wrap up quickly.

But Vera lingered, shifting awkwardly in the doorway. "I, uh... I wanted to apologize. For the other night. I shouldn't have let you go back alone. I just... got caught up in the moment." Her voice trailed off, her cheeks flushing faintly.

Maryam immediately caught the discomfort and, hating to see others embarrassed, rushed to reassure her. "It's fine, really. If anything, I should apologize for leaving so early."

Vera shook her head, her smile a little shy but sincere. "You had your reasons, I'm sure. And I told you—it was okay if you wanted to leave."

Maryam nodded, offering a small, grateful smile. She turned the key in the lock, the door creaking open behind her. "Well... thanks."

"Of course." Vera's smile widened. 

The doctor offered Vera a faint, reassuring smile before turning to enter her apartment, the weight of the evening pressing on her shoulders. But just as she was about to close the door, Vera called out to her, her voice cutting through the quiet.

"Have you seen the new video about Bruce Wayne, by the way?"

"Who?" Maryam asked, her mind struggling to process the words. Surely, her ears were deceiving her.

"Bruce Wayne. It's been all over the internet! Over 13 million views right now. The Riddler just uploaded it an hour ago."

Bruce Wayne? The Riddler? What the actual hell was going on? It felt like the world was spinning in circles, and Maryam couldn't seem to catch a break.

"No, I haven't seen it," she said, a frown creasing her brow. "Oh my god, is it bad?"

"I don't know if 'bad' is the right word." Vera crossed her arms, a chuckle escaping her lips. "But it's definitely... something."

"Thank you for telling me. See you soon!" Maryam didn't wait for Vera to respond. She quickly clicked the door shut, the soft click of the lock sounding like a release of tension. She leaned against the door for a moment, letting out a shaky breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Her eyes fluttered shut, the stillness of her apartment engulfing her as the silence felt like a balm to her troubled mind.

But then the news Vera had just delivered hit her. Without warning, she straightened up, her heart hammering in her chest. She tossed her bag onto the kitchen countertop and hurried over to the TV. The news was on, but they were only talking about the video—there were no visuals, just an anchor's voice repeating, "A new explosive video from the Riddler has just been published and already has millions of views..."

Maryam's stomach churned. This was bigger than she realized.

Her sisters had been texting her, and she'd left her phone silenced during her shift, missing every notification. And as the silence in the apartment deepened, she ignored the messages that flashed across her phone screen and instead opened her laptop.

Immediately, the headlines screamed at her: "New explosive video by the Riddler just published. Already over 13 million views..."

She didn't waste another second. 

With a click of the mouse, the laptop screen flickered to life, and she navigated straight to that video, her stomach was twisting with a mix of dread and curiosity when she found it.

She had to see it.

So, she clicked the link.

The video was there, in front of her—almost too easy to access. And as the screen loaded, she could already feel the tension creeping up her spine. 

This wasn't something small. This was something monumental.

The play button lingered on the screen, mocking her with its quiet presence. She hesitated, her teeth biting into her bottom lip, another finger poised above it, trembling slightly. The room closed in around her, the air heavy and suffocating. With one last breath, she pushed it.

The voice of Thomas Wayne echoed in her apartment, a ghostly whisper from a past that no longer felt so distant. "I'm Thomas Wayne, and I approve this message." The image of him flashed on the screen—his mayoral campaign from twenty years ago, the words "Thomas Wayne for Mayor" splashed beneath his confident smile.

The video shifted to an old clip of him with Martha and a young Bruce at the orphanage, all smiling. Thomas spoke warmly, his voice full of hope and pride: "From a very young age, my family, Martha's family, the Arkhams—instilled in both of us that giving back is not just an obligation... it's a passion. That is our family's legacy."

But then the image froze—stopping mid-sentence—and the cheerful music twisted, turning into something darker, unsettling. The tone shifted, sharp and threatening, as if the entire ad had been hijacked by something sinister. Vintage black and white photos of the Waynes and the Arkhams bled into view, their smiles warped and chilling as they slowly turned a sickening red.

The voice of the Riddler slithered into the room, twisted and altered by the voice changer, making every word feel like a shadow creeping over her skin. "The Waynes and the Arkhams—Gotham's founding families... but what is their real legacy?"

The photos deepened in color, until they seemed to pulse with a malevolent energy. A newspaper headline suddenly flashed up: Reporter Uncovers Dark Secrets of Gotham's Elite.

"Twenty years ago, one reporter set out to uncover the truth..." The Riddler's voice slithered into the words. "...He found shocking family secrets."

Flashes of police and autopsy photos assaulted the screen. Each image colder, more grotesque than the last—sickening in its truth.

The Riddler's voice darkened. "How when Martha was just a child, her mother brutally murdered her father, then committed suicide... and how the Arkhams used their power to bury it all. What did they not want you to know?"

A death certificate appeared, its words Cause of Death: ACCIDENTAL standing stark against the screen. The words didn't sit right in her stomach.

The Riddler's voice turned ice-cold, a predator's whisper. "How Martha herself was in and out of institutions for years... and they made sure no one knew."

The camera shifted to a darkened institution, Arkham Asylum, the image grainy and distorted, its darkness almost suffocating. Through a rusted chain-link fence, a young woman struggled violently against nurses who tried to subdue her. Her face was obscured, but Maryam's pulse quickened, a sickening knot forming in her stomach. Was that her—Martha? Mrs. Wayne? The same woman she'd seen every Thursday on the subway, holding her son's hand, a book in the other, laughing softly as they joked together? The same elegant, poised woman, whose smile had always seemed so warm, so kind? The same woman who'd radiated charity and grace?

It couldn't be. But the image haunted her all the same.

The Riddler's voice continued to creep through her mind. "Thomas Wayne tried to force this crusading reporter into silence with hush money..."

The scene shifted to Thomas Wayne shaking hands on the campaign trail, a legal document spinning into view. The word HUSH! stamped across it in thick, red letters that seemed to bleed into the screen.

"But when the reporter refused..." The voice turned into a sneer. "...Wayne turned to his secret associate, Carmine Falcone—and had him murdered."

The screen exploded with the sharp, echoing sound of a gunshot, followed by footage of the reporter's lifeless body. The headline flashed across the screen: GANG-LAND STYLE EXECUTION. A photo lingered, a haunting image of Thomas Wayne and Carmine Falcone, standing together in a conspiratorial whisper.

She shook her head, her breath hitching as her cold hand instinctively crept to her throat, her skin prickling with unease. Anxiety gripped her, suffocating her. The world around her seemed to tilt, the weight of the question pressing down like a vice. God, was Bruce okay?

The thought gnawed at her insides, relentless and sharp. What kind of truth had she just uncovered? Was the man she come to know still the same, or had the darkness of his family's legacy already consumed him?

"The Waynes and the Arkhams..." The Riddler's voice was full of mockery now. "Gotham's legacy of lies... and murder..."

The screen cut to a campaign poster. 

The word MAYOR was slashed out with a heavy red mark. Instead, it read THOMAS WAYNE FOR MURDERER. 

"God..." The word escaped her lips in a whisper, her fingers tightening around the edges of the laptop like it could somehow anchor her in this sea of chaos. She clung to it, hoping the simple utterance would offer some shred of solace, but the weight of the moment only pressed harder against her chest. This was a catastrophe, a truth unraveling so violently, she could barely breathe. The world felt like it was splintering, and every piece of it pointed back to him.

Then, with a final, taunting laugh, the Riddler's face appeared, his eyes gleaming with malice. "One by one, Gotham's pillars fall... on Judgment Day, the wreckage will consume us all... GOOD byyyyyyyye..."

The video cut to black, the silence ringing in her ears. 

The apartment was suffocating, the air thick with what she had just seen. Maryam sat motionless, her hand clamped over her mouth as if she could keep the horror from escaping. The only sound now was the soft hum of the TV, its pale light flickering against her wide, staring eyes. The room felt colder, the darkness pressing in tighter, like the walls themselves were closing around her.

She hadn't even realized she was holding her breath until it caught in her chest, sharp and ragged. She couldn't move—couldn't look away. The  video, the dark secrets it had uncovered, gnawed at her insides, leaving a cold, hollow pit in her stomach. 

Gotham's past was no longer a mere collection of whispered rumors. It had clawed its way back into the light, bursting through every shadow that had once hidden its secrets.

All the research she had painstakingly gathered about Bruce and his family—the fragments, the missing pieces—were here, laid bare before her. But she wasn't surprised. Not really. 

Who would be?

He was a billionaire, after all. The Waynes didn't build an empire on charity and goodwill alone. No, their wealth was forged in darker places—through the sweat and blood of others. 

There was no way a family as rich as theirs had gained their fortune through clean hands.

But what the Riddler had revealed about Thomas Wayne—it was... unsettling. So out of place. Thomas Wayne, the same man she'd seen in the subway, so loving toward his wife and son, so devoted to them. She had envied that love, the way Martha smiled at him, the way Bruce looked up at his father with the kind of reverence only a child could have for the person who shaped their world. 

It was the kind of love Maryam had longed for, the kind of love she had hoped she'd one day receive. The same love Bruce had given her, just hours ago. Soft words, a gentle kiss on the hand, whispered promises in the dark.

Maybe it was all a lie. 

A carefully constructed facade. But something still didn't sit right. She couldn't shake the feeling that there were pieces missing. And she knew better than to take anything at face value—not when the Riddler was involved, not when so many questions remained unanswered.

She needed to talk to Bruce. Desperately. The knot in her stomach twisted tighter at the thought of him watching that video, seeing the past unfold in such a brutal, public way. 

What would he do with that kind of truth? Would he break? Would he spiral?

She just needed to hear his voice. She had to know he was okay.

Maryam couldn't even bring herself to judge him. Why would she? To do so would be hypocritical. Her own maternal family wasn't exactly a shining example of perfection. Far from it, actually. She had seen enough dysfunction in her own bloodline to understand that everyone had their skeletons in the closet, their own secrets. What her family did didn't define her. She had learned long ago that she was her own person. 

And she was ready to tell Bruce the same.

If it had been anyone else, maybe she would have hated them, maybe she would have believed the Riddler's accusations without question. But this was Bruce. Her Bruce. The man who, despite the weight of his family's darkness, had shown her kindness, compassion, and a sense of duty she couldn't ignore. He wasn't responsible for his parents' mistakes—no, those were theirs alone. 

And yes, he was an idiot sometimes, and she told him that, just hours ago. His efforts to save Gotham weren't just about the suit; they were about Bruce Wayne, the billionaire heir, and the choices he made beyond the mask.

She needed to talk to him. Right now. She needed to hear his voice, to make sure he was okay. To make sure he wasn't going to spiral after watching that video.

Maryam rose from the couch, her resolve firm, but before she could take a step, a low, sinister voice slithered through the air, followed by the sharp click of a safety being disengaged, the sound echoing ominously off the walls.

It was cold, dripping with menace, like a predator toying with its prey.

"Did you like my video?"

The words hung in the air, as if they were being inhaled by the walls themselves. Her body went rigid, the blood in her veins freezing for a moment. Her hand instinctively shot to her throat, as if to protect herself from some invisible pressure closing in on her.

She stood perfectly still, every muscle in her body locked in place. The voice...so familiar yet it wasn't just a voice. It was like something dark and terrible had seeped into the very atmosphere around her. It crawled up her spine, sending chills through her limbs, but she couldn't bring herself to look behind her. 

She didn't want to. She didn't dare.

The silence in her apartment had thickened, almost suffocating. The only sounds were the soft hum of her laptop and TV and the erratic rhythm of her own breathing. Her mind raced, every instinct screaming at her to move, to escape, but she couldn't. 

"Great editing. What app did you use?" she said, her voice taut but unwavering, a strained attempt at sarcasm. 

It was her reflex—sarcasm or anger, sometimes both—whenever danger loomed too close. Her eyes locked onto the figure standing just beyond the glow of the TV.

Him.

The dim, stuttering light played cruel tricks, casting him as something more monstrous than human. The khaki mask clung to his face, faceless and suffocating, with only the glint of thick-framed glasses cutting through the obscurity. 

There was something about those glasses—something that nagged at her, unsettling in its familiarity, as though she had seen them before in another, safer context.

The mask distorted his breathing, a soft, labored sound that crawled across the room to her ears. His posture was relaxed with his gun, almost casual, as if he had been waiting for her, relishing the tension he'd so effortlessly woven into the air.

Her own sarcastic quip hung there, suspended like a broken thread in the thick, oppressive atmosphere. 

Stupid. 

So stupid.

The words hadn't bought her anything—not safety, not time, not even the illusion of control. He wasn't laughing or sneering or reacting at all.

Her heart slammed against her ribs, the erratic rhythm making her feel dizzy. 

She could feel her pulse pounding in her temples, her palms slick with sweat. Her nerves screamed at her to move, to do something, but her body was locked in place, paralyzed by the sheer absurdity of it all.

Because why the fuck was the Riddler standing in her apartment?

previous | next chapter

taglist : @gaypoetsblog @faeryki @rattyfishrock

A/N : We finally meet the Riddler! But don't worry, we'll be seeing more of him in the next chapter !!! 😏

Also, for those of you who didn't notice, I've updated the quote in the previous chapter to "My mercy prevails over my wrath." Some of you might recognize this quote from The Walking Dead, but it actually comes from a Hadith in Islam, more specifically Hadith Qudsi.

A Hadith is a collection of sayings, actions, and approvals of the Prophet Muhammad (PBUH). They form a key part of Islamic teachings and are considered second only to the Quran in guiding the faith. Hadith Qudsi refers to those sayings that are attributed directly to God but spoken through the Prophet Muhammad (PBUH).

I wanted to change the quote because it felt incredibly meaningful, and it aligns perfectly with the themes in Batman and Bruce Wayne's character, as well as Maryam's. I felt like It embodied the internal struggle between mercy and wrath, something that I think resonates deeply with Bruce's moral code, especially considering his commitment to not killing and upholding justice despite his anger. And it also ties into Maryam's own internal conflict, like balancing her past and the choices she makes moving forward.

I felt like this quote really strengthens the narrative and connects with both characters on a deeper level... Idk but I'd love to know what you all think of the change !!!!!

[jellyfishjuliet]

what if i told you bart and carol was orpheus and eurydice adjacent, where bart’s inexperience and inability to accept his inhumanity is why he could never rescue carol (eurydice) in time to be with her because their separation is his coming of age lesson that just because you HAVE the power doesn’t mean you know how to use it. they can’t be together BECAUSE he’s young, inexperienced, and angry and afraid of what he’s capable of.

whereas bart and kon are hades and persephone adjacent because now bart knows EXACTLY what he’s capable of. the power is still overwhelming and he’s still so very afraid it, but power is power, and if there’s a will, there’s a way isn’t it? what if i told you that with kon, bart CAN’T fear death because he’s already dead. the black flash already consumed him. the speed force could decide tomorrow that it wants him home, and he wouldn’t have a choice, because hades has a JOB, bart allen has a job as an agent of the speed force.

but even god’s (the speed force’s) favorite dog has its needs, doesn’t it? maybe this is the exchange. maybe bart allen only gets to assume a flesh form to ‘rescue’ his lightning rod (kon). kon, who doesn’t get a choice in the matter. kon, who HAS to exist, who HAS to remember the horrors of his original timeline and experiences because he’s tethered to hades. because he’s persephone, and SHE never had a choice after eating death’s fruit, just as he didn’t after he befriended a monster in the form of a human named bart allen.

[charms-cat]

Nitpicking Kaos

Aka "Is it so hard to have 10 seconds of Googling?"

Dislaimer: I'm not a follower of the Greek pantheon nor am I the most avid "fan" of Greek myth (putting that in quotes bcs there are still worshippers today), but oh my God. Is it so difficult to keep the most basic of information correct? I'm not gonna nitpick on how they twist certain myths (e.g. how Orpheus gets to and gets Eurydice out of the underworld) bcs it's fine, it serves the plot they're telling so it's not like they're doing it for no reason. But the names of gods? Their titles? The fact that Hera is probably the only goddess who has remained faithful to her spouse? Is it too much to ask?

EDIT: just realised just how negative this all sounds, but I did genuinely enjoy the show and its plot. It was interesting enough to captivate me for 8 whole eps, the character dynamics were intriguing, and the portrayal of the gods was cruel and I loved it since it hammers in the disconnect/lack of empathy that they feel for mortals

Anyway, here's a list of nitpicks [SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT] feel free to correct me if I'm wrong

Heracles, not Hercules

Why do people keep getting this wrong? The name of a literal Greek Goddess (Hera) is part of his name. How are you gonna make Zeus praise him, but still get his name wrong

Hestia

Why is Hestia reduced to being a fucking dog????????? Not just any dog either, she's Zeus's dog that already died, absolutely no chance of an appearance of his fifth sibling unless you wanna make it that Zeus was such a dick that he named his dog after his sister. It's not like she has a "useless" domain. She's one of the three most well-known virgin goddesses. She's the goddess of the home and hearth and of the sacrificial fire. She's the one who receives the first offering at a (domestic) sacrifice so why is she just a dog??

Hera

If I had a nickel for every time I read a retelling where she cheats on Zeus with his brother, I'd have two nickels (the first was Lore Olympus, if you're curious). Hera is supposed to represent the ideal wife, the literal goddess of lawful marriage so how the fuck can you make her be unfaithful?????????

Poseidon

Not so much a nitpick than a question, said question being "why are we acting like Poseidon doesn't have a wife, the nereid Amphitrite, queen of the seas" did they get divorced? Is that why he's lusting after Hera

Hades

He's the god of THE DEAD. Thanatos is the god of death ffs; he's the literal personification of death. Thanatos takes mortal souls, and Hades presides over said dead souls. It would've taken only a few seconds to change Hades's title card and for Persephone to call him "god of the dead" instead of the "god of death". Nothing about Hades's position even hints to him presiding over death itself. We only ever see him running the underworld (Y'know, where all the dead are?). They literally had to change nothing but his title card and what Persephone calls him

Persephone

This isn't really a nitpick on her character, but.... if she's in the underworld, shouldn't it be winter? It doesn't matter that she truly loves Hades or that she went willingly, Part of what fueled Demeter's winter is her grief over losing/being away from her daughter so why is it so damn sunny when we cut to the mortal world

Orpheus

Again, not a nitpick but a definite downplay of his musical abilities considering the fact that the song he sung to convince Hades and Persephone had literally stopped the underworld in its tracks

Prometheus

Not an egregious change, but I'll say it anyway: Wasn't he freed by Heracles during his 12 labours? It's not like he needs to be chained up, pretty sure the resentment that comes from centuries or millenia of having your liver pecked out and eaten would sustain his hatred for an equal amount of time

Minos

Their decision to make him a president instead of a king is not only unnecessary, but it makes him look like the Greek ver of Putin. I mean, they really didn't need to add in the part where Ariadne(?) says something along the lines of "you should let the people vote, they'd choose you anyway". Just... the implication that he simply declared himself president is dumb as hell. Despite Athens being the birthplace of democracy, I don't think they even had presidents in Ancient Greece. You could literally just call Minos a king and virtually nothing about the plot would even change so why bother. Is this really just their attempt at "modernising" their world/setting? It's not like we don't have kings in this day and age

Minotaur

It's true that Glaucus is a sibling of Ariadne, but the Minotaur is a whole separate sibling. The Minotaur even has his own name: Asterion/Asterius. Just another case of "why did they have to change this?" Literally just swap out the name "Glaucus" for "Asterion" and not only will (yet again) virtually nothing about the plot change, but it would be more mythologically accurate and less confusing for people who do know the myths. In fact, it could've been a fun hint for people who know the myths to clock what really happened to "Glaucus" early on, but still have them questioning "how did he become the Minotaur in this version?"

Pasiphae/Pas

Ngl I'm kinda sad that Pas seems to be just a normal mortal woman bcs, in Greek myth, she was a sorceress-goddess, the daughter of Helios. Plus, although I think it's kinda fucked up that she was forced to fuck/be fucked by the Cretan bull (bcs being "made to fall in love" is not the same as "falling in love"), I think it would've been interesting to explore not only her grief over losing a child, but the grief that comes from realising that he never was and never could be accepted by either Gods or mortals. Also, it would've made her obsession over him look slightly less selfish (and lowkey creepy) if we found out that part of the reason was that she knew her son could never live among humans as half-man, half-bull so she resorted to making wax figures that would've at least let her imagine what it would've been like if he wasn't the result of divine punishment

Theseus

Was literally just an Easter egg. Downgraded from a prince of Athens to a Cretan bodyguard. Didn't even do his most notable act (killing the Minotaur) or even get sent to the Labyrinth in the first place. Makes him feel very much like a character that the writers added just to say, "Look! Look, we know Greek myth!" Especially since Theseus disappeared into thin air after the Trojan 7 were arrested. I don't think they even showed him in the crowd with Andromache, mourning Astyanax

Non-character Nitpicks (yeah, I got more)

Bees

Not really bothered by this, but I'm pretty sure that bees aren't even one of Hera's sacred animals. They could've made it peacocks, make the birds wander the grounds and when the reveal drops, the symbol of opulence turns into an unabashed display of cruelty

Ichor

Admittedly, the colour of ichor in Ancient Greek texts has always been ambiguous. But I feel like it would've been an interesting visual for their blood to be a non-red colour; maybe the popular gold, for example. Bcs it would've A) drawn a clear line between Gods and mortals and further "validated" the Gods' hubris by serving as visual proof that there's an undeniable difference between them and the mortals; and B) would've really caused Zeus to panic when he saw that his blood was red instead of gold, make him think that he's becoming mortal, vulnerable, weak

Styx

Minor nitpick, but isn't the sentence for not being able to pay the toll only 100 years, not 200? Why the extra 100 years? Why even change this? If they really wanted to make it feel like a long sentence, then they should've gone for 500 or 1000 years. Living even just 100 years of doing the same thing with no variation or even the choice to opt out, or even being able to taste anything, would start feeling hellish sooner than you might think

Couples

This might just be the aromantic in me, but why is there so much romance???? And it's between couples that never existed in the OG myths

1. Hera/Poseidon - why??? I've already talked about how it goes against Hera's character, but if they really wanted them to have a "deep" relationship, they're literally siblings?? They could just bond over having to be the ones that keep Zeus in line or being the only ones responsible for actually ruling their realms (bcs Amphitrite is nowhere to be found). They didn't need to insult Hera's character like that

2. Theseus/Astyanax - I'd have less problem with this if it didn't seem like Theseus wanted Ari to only save Nax instead of all 7 Trojans. It makes it feel like they're fueling the idea that a person would only be desperate to save the person they love romantically. E.g., a husband saving his wife, but not someone saving their best friend

3. Prometheus/Charon - same problem as the Theseus/Nax ship, especially with the added line that Prometheus needs to rely on "someone who will do anything for you" (or sumn like that). Like,,,, you can do that for your friend too, y'know. It's not out of the realm of possibility to miss your friend or love them so deeply that you'd do anything for them. It's literally a well-known joke(?) that there are friends who'd help you hide the body. It'd just be a more intense ver of that between Charon and Prometheus. They didn't need to be romantic to showcase Charon's trust in and dedication to helping Prometheus

4. Caeneus/Eurydice - I'm so tired of people falling in love in less than a week (I don't think this relationship even reached a full three days). Iirc y'all had a grand total of 6 conversations - first at the Frame, second meeting when Riddy introduces herself as a diver, third at the party, fourth when they're sitting on the bench, fifth when they have their short escapade to the Nothing, sixth in Caeneus's bedroom.

I mean,,,,, I get that they shared meaningful conversations, but I swear none of said conversations even lasted more than 5 minutes so where on Earth is this "love" coming from?? Y'all have barely scratched the surface of what you know of each other but you think you're connected??? Get real

Ending on a positive note

I actually love the Furies and the Fates. The Furies more for their looks and their vibe and especially the Fates for their (literal) know-it-all nonchalant attitude. I hope they come back next season.

The set design and colouring is also top tier, from the underworld filtered in black and white and looking industrial and office-like to the vibrant colours and festivity of Earth to the opulence of Olympus

Some actual trans and disability rep! I've been burned before with the trans rep since the Netflix adaptation of "Alice in Borderlands" has a cis woman playing a transfem, but Misia Butler is an actual transmasc! [Nobody argue that AIB couldn't have an actual transfem bcs of Japan's transphobia bcs I can tell you what's not helping trans rights: having cis women play transfem roles, thinking it makes no difference anyway. Good rep can pave the way for acceptance]

The disability rep in actors is so fucking bad that I genuinely thought most people with disabilities just didn't become actors. I only knew that the daughter in "A Quiet Place" was actually deaf bcs I went to look it up. Anyway, hope Mat Fraser (Daedalus aka only decent father figure) comes back bcs no way he actually got eaten, right? Right????

[aliciavance4228]

Was Athena a Feminist or a Female Misogynist?

Athena is perhaps the one most famous goddesses from Greek Mythology, and was for a very long time considered a good role model for women and a feminist due to the fact that she's a smart woman who can fight in battles. However, there are also a lot of people who claim that she is in fact a female misogynist and consider her to be the original "pick-me girl" or "I'm not like the other girls" girl. And the fact that she's seen besides male heroes most of the time or the myths of Medusa and Arachne doesn’t make this situation any better.

And the very first problem in this equation is that people are using a lot of modern terms (and a modern mentality in general) in order to label a figure that was firstly mentioned thousands of years ago. So there's a LOT to unpack here.

The first mentions of Athena come from mycenaean mythology. Back then the place that later became Athens surpringly had a matriarchal view on society, which would explain why Athena as a female figures isn't depicted in a traditionally feminine way. But years have passed, and things have changed a lot both socially and culturally. Athens, despite of being one of the most developed cities from Ancient Greece, had a very patriarchal view on society, to the point where even the other cities considered it to over exaggerate. In order to understand just how misogynistic athenians were, they believed not only that the woman is a disfigured version of the man, but that men could find a way to reproduce themselves without the help of women and that the female is nothing but a vessel when it comes to reproduction.

The thing is that, while a lot of things changed in the Athens in time, the goddess that was the patron of that city remained the same. So the question that naturally comes is: If women are inferior to men, then why is our patron deity a goddess? And so, the only play which specifically depicts Athena as a female misogynist appeared: Eumenides. This play was obviously written by a male Athenian, and its pure intention is to answer to that question. In the Eumenides, Athena says this thing:

It is my duty to give the final judgment and I shall cast my vote for Orestes. [735] For there was no mother who gave me birth; and in all things, except for marriage, whole-heartedly I am for the male and entirely on the father’s side. Therefore, I will not award greater honor to the death of a woman who killed her husband, the master of the house. [740] Orestes wins, even if the vote comes out equal.

As you can observe from this quote, the dialogue is ment to confirm the ancient athenian perspective about reproduction, as well as their views on women in general. Despite the fact that Metis was supposed to be Athena's mother since she was pregnant with her when Zeus ate her, in this play she is completely erased and Athena has one single parent figure: Zeus.

In other words, Athena was clearly a product of the society that worpshipped her; a society that believed that traits such as high intellect or strenght cannot be attributed to women. It is up to you guys to decide wheter the Eumenides is canon to the rest of Greek Mythology or not.

However, aside from this particular play, Athena shows no ill-will towards women purely for their gender. She had a very close relationship with Pallas to the point where she even takes her name after she killed her by accident (Thank you, Zeus!), and acted as the big sis towards Artemis and Persephone, as it is suggested in Homeric Hymns to Demeter.

Furthermore, if you ever read the Iliad then you would observe that her interactions with mortal women are very different compared to those with Medusa or Arachne from Roman Mythology.

In the Iliad, Athena gifts Penelope in handicrafts, wiles, and storytelling, making Penelope an anti-Arachne due to the fact that she isn't punished by the goddess for her talents, but rather blessed for them.

Athena has endowed her above other women with knowledge of fair handiwork and an understanding heart, and wiles, such as we have never yet heard that any even of the women of old knew, of those who long ago were fair-tressed Achaean women— [120] Tyro and Alcmene and Mycene of the fair crown—of whom not one was like Penelope in shrewd device…

At the same time, we have the story of Cassandra and how Athena avenged her. Cassandra was brutally raped by Ajax the Lesser in her temple. She asked Athena for revenge, telling her what happened to her. Athena was absolutely livid, sent a storm to wreck the Achaeans' boats when they failed to kill Ajax, then destroyed his ship near the Whirling Rocks and left him to die, or lifted him in the sky during a storm and impaled him with her father's thunderbolt. At this point, Cassandra is an anti-Medusa, because she was avenged instead of being punished for being raped. Furthermore, in the original greek myths Athena herself was about to be raped by Hephaestus at some point. She was very aware of the fact that there's a difference between a woman who had sex on her own will and one that didn’t consent to it, so it makes no sense why she wouldn't help a rape victim.

Medusa and Arachne were later additions by Ovid, and their stories were anti-Authority Propaganda.

So instead of quickly coming to any sort of conclusion and deciding wheter or not Athena was a Feminist or a Misogynist, perhaps people should understand the fact that the situation was way more complicated as she was nothing more than a character that was depicted both according to the societal and personal views ancient greeks had on women (which were more or less different depending on the century and the poet), and that the answer is way more complicated than we think.

[mimi-tada]

My thoughts/notes on akayona chapter 264

I really dislike the dragon gods after this chapter however I can sort of understand them, in that hiryuu was gone for like 2 thousand years, didn't return to heaven and did who knows what in that time span. So it would makes sense if the gods were driven to insanity because of that, additionally, wouldn't hiryuu have know the gods personalities and guessed that they may have gone insane because of of him leaving. Oh and pointing out the next question, what did he do in those 2 thousand years if he didn't go to heaven, it seems sketchy kinda like the other dragon gods.

Especially to the point he reincarnated without any of his memories, like after 2000 years he choose to do something 💀so this could mean that he apathetic to some degree like the other gods or his powers are limited (makes more sense to me)

-yona's powers being limited makes sense because in this whole chapter she basically had no power and had to argue with the other gods, and they only let her argue because they liked her or well hiyruu

-also I know people were theorising on the last chapter if the food yona ate in the chalice might have weakened her or is a parallel to the greek persephone myth and I think it has some value cause it would explain why she and hiryuu are weak compared to the other gods

Next dragon god, ouryuu, where is he? I know he's trapped inside zeno but why has he not joined in with the other gods. To me it seemed like zeno had ig some sort of power? in a sense because the gods asked yona to kill him, it doesn't make sense unless they couldn't kill him them selves. So is it a loophole where only hiryuu can kill him and any other god that does is messing with ouryuu jurisdiction? ig or is it again telling us that the dragon gods powers are severely limited that they can't kill zeno themselves.

Also the other 3 dragons acted as a hive mind like they all had the same desires and stuff. What if it's all an illusion or just one god acting on the behalf of the others. This could also just mean that insanity drove them to have one single desire/thought? Idk

More into the dragon gods, when they shapeshifted into Hak it really drove home how much they didn't understand humans and emotions in general that they can't differentiate between romantic and platonic relationships. It just shows how they only understand yona in a basic level like when they shapeshifted into the dragons, they didn't understand she liked their personalities.

Also the gods treated their descents like they had no agency or more like they disliked them and it makes sense with how most of the dragon warriors treated their powers as a curse, like it would make sense for the gods to act like this if for centuries u heard ur power being called a curse and would explain partly why they are so apathetic/hold a dislike towards humans.

Onto the dragons, it felt like what the gods promised was too good to be true in them being humans like there has to be some kind of side effect to it, like a version of the crimson dragon disease or them being reincarnated (essentially leaving Hak and su won alone unless they want to deal with kids), I just really don't trust the gods to be kind and follow through with it properly.

Wider effects on kouka, I think 2 chapters before we were shown the natural disasters happening there just because yona came into the chalice so it would probably continue if yona is going to be in the heavens. It shows how apathetic they are towards humans and sucks for su won.

Also poor Hak and the dragons, their reactions when they find out what happened to yona is going to be devastating 😭

-I really liked the flower motif in this chapter, its been prominent throughout the story but I liked it because I'm pretty sure yona's name means lotus and su won gae her a lotus hair pin so it could be a parallel to all that symbolism especially with her drowning in those flowers. I just really love that detail.

[wintersnwnderlnd]

Daughter of the Queens Three, pt. 1

Imagine Hera, Amphitrite, and Persephone making a deal behind their husbands backs the same night they swore no more forbidden children.

Imagine being Hera, Amphitrite and Persephone's daughter.

I smiled as the waves crashed outside the open window, the scent of daffodils wafting through the air as light gleamed in my face.

"Good morning mom!" I stretched, giggling as one of the waves crashed particularly hard causing it to spray me through the window. Throwing on a linen hoodie, I wrestled by curls into a messy bun making my way through the house.

Pouring a cup of coffee, I went outside to sit on the porch to watch the sunrise. Humming softly, I noticed something move from the corner of my eye. A nymph ducked behind the tree with a giggle, having been caught.

"Princess, your mother says its time." She said, having finally stopped laughing and came over to sit. Sighing, I looked out at the sea once more before nodding.

"If that is what Mother has decided so be it. I knew it would come soon; I'm already packed." Looking down at the coffee in hand, I couldn't help the nervousness that was building in me. How would they react? How would they respond to learning they have a new stepsister? One that links all of them. How would Chiron respond, or Mr. D when they learned who exactly my godly parent, or in this case parents were.

"Princess? Are you sure you're ready?" Naisephe questioned, gently placing a hand on mine.

I smiled, looking up at her, "Yes. Just worried. Let's get going."

*************

Coming over the hill, I groaned softly.

"Not to worry Princess! It's just past these trees!" Naisephe called, standing at the top overlooking the camp. Coming up beside her, I couldn't help the gasp that left me as I caught sight of the camp.

It was beautiful. Truly and utterly beautiful.

I could tell why Mother wanted to send me here.

"Come Princess, we must announce your arrival with the Director." Naisephe exclaimed, clapping her hands happily before taking hold of mine and leading me into the camp.

I couldn't help but notice everyone stopping and turning to look at us as we walked through the camp headed towards the Big House. Was it what I was wearing? Had it been a while since they had last gotten a new demigod? Was it because Naisephe was with me?

"We're here! It's just through these doors Princess!" Her excitedness was nearly palpable, as the people closest to us began to whisper. "Chiron, hello? I brought her!".

Walking through the hall, a door at the end swung open, revealing the towering Centaur waiting for us. I twitched nervously as my anxiety once again started to act up. Would I be outcast for having multiple godly parents? Would I be a freak even here?

A warmth spread over me, the ghostly feeling of a hug taking over my senses as Mother did her best to calm me down even from afar. I smiled softly, taking a deep breath.

"Ah, young Lya. We've been waiting for you." Chiron spoke, a feeling of comfort, different from mother's spread through the air. I could tell he was a safe person, that he wouldn't let anything happen to me if he could avoid it.

"Hi, um I don't know what I'm supposed to do beyond getting here. Mother, she didn't exactly write a letter telling me what to do." I muttered, looking up at the man before me. He gestured beside me, towards a seat at the table. Dionysus already sat there, sipping on, something.

"You already know your godly parent? You've spoken to them?" He questioned, as I took a seat.

I blushed, ducking my head, "It's kind of complicated but yes."

Dionysus looked increasingly annoyed as the conversation went on, "Well, out with it!".

Taking a deep breath, I felt Naisephe squeeze my shoulder, "My name is Elysia Ourania Oceana named after my mothers," I heard Chiron's sharp inhale at mothers, "Amphitrite, Persephone, and Hera.".

My eyes snapped open as I heard a chair fall over and watched in worry as Dionysus fell backwards.