#Why.. not.. meee?... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

idyllcy · 7 months ago

Text

every time i look at you, i keep turning red

word count: 7.0k || inspo: The Dismemberment of Zagreus

warnings: nsfw, smut

summary: shade or not shade? minor goddess or goddess?

Past the gates of Hades and the river Styx, Elysium sits. An endless paradise of homes and greenery in a seemingly desolate land. It was always Zagreus' third stop. He hadn't paid much attention there, Asphodel previously wearing him out. Zagreus wonders not much about the land itself. The prince needed to get past it, avoiding traps he's lived through too many times to count and fighting past foes. He stops occasionally at safe spaces of people he's talked to and always leaves nectar behind as he knows he's going to return. He never makes it that far into the temple. It takes trials through hell and back to escape. It takes time, he finds. So sometimes, he rests in the fields, in a place he knows is far away from whatever traps of death within the realm of Hades himself may await him. A place where no dirt can cut into his skin and damage it.

It was a strange place. The shades wound him, though they didn't pierce the skin of the shades. Skin? The body. The souls, perhaps. The realm of Elysium was never meant to reside in as a godling for long. Though, he had seen multiple souls retain their human form here. It was amusing to him. It had been the closest he had ever been to talking to living people. He wonders if there are any new ones. It was weary, meeting the same people over and over again in the realm. He seldom sees people end up here anymore.

A sigh slips past his lips as he lays down in the green.

He resides in a paradise built for only the best of the best; people whom the gods favored heavily. Since the first three times he had visited his mother, he hadn't stopped to breathe in order to get back up. He fought, raced, and hurled in order to get to where he needed to be. He had to see his mother once more. She hadn't returned with him, and he had unanswered questions he needed answers to. Yet, as he finished with Asphodel, he supposes a quick rest in the grass could not kill him. Well, he wasn't exactly alive either. And, if failed, he would simply return to where he started. It was a cycle he had grown used to, though he fought tooth and nail to make it upward each time.

Zagreus is not expecting to meet someone new on the fourth.

He spots you in the distance, white chiton draping over your shoulders, wrapping snugly around your figure.

A young maiden. You looked no older than him.

He wonders by whom you were favored, but he pauses at the sight of the familiar color. It seemed you had received a blessing in the form of your hair. The streaks of color remind him of his own mother, and he wonders just what you've done to please the Queen of the Underworld so much. You don't notice his stare, but you notice the sword stuck to the dirt, reaching to pull one out of the ground. He wonders if you'll get cut by one. His eyes trail over your hands, and he takes note of how rough your hands seemed to be. They resemble those of his mother's. Perhaps you had been a farmer who worshipped his mother especially much.

The blade doesn't cut you, but you fail to pull it out. He watches newfound determination paint over your features, and his lips part at the sight. You pull the weapon out in two tugs, falling onto the ground as you do. The red on the surface of the blade cracks into green as you pry the sword out with your bare hands. Zagreus can only observe in a mixture of fear and awe. You, a dainty maiden, had pried a weapon out of the sod as though it were a pomegranate. You sat there, staring at the craftsmanship, enthralled by its beauty as he were enthralled with yours. You hear him shuffle, and he leans back into the grass.

Zagreus doesn't understand why you don't approach him nor run away, but he takes it as a greeting. He might see you more often. Perhaps he'll see you on his next quest upward. When he hears you shuffle out of range, he stands up, the wounds on his body healed to some extent. His exhaustion is rested, and he sets off to meet his mother again. Perhaps he'd ask her about you. It was strange to see hair that reminded him so much of his own mother. He wondered if the color had the same texture as his mother's. Ah, but it wouldn't be so kind to compare you to his mother, now would it? Perhaps he missed his mother. That's why he had stayed a little longer to pay attention to you. It would leave him with his next death. There was no other reason.

When Zagreus reaches the surface, his mother shakes her head at his questions. She had no favored child. There must've been something wrong. Perhaps he had seen things while hurt from battle. As Zagreus falls back into the Styx, he wonders if you really had been a desperate hallucination. It had been years since his father had ruled anyone into Elysium. If not blessed, then what was it? Perhaps you had done something during the time that you were alive.

You were a mortal goddess. One of healing, he supposes. He closes his eyes and hears someone shuffle toward him, pressing cold hands onto his skin, and a cooling sensation flowing through his body. When he opens his eyes again, the figure is gone, the wounds on his body mended. There's no ache in his body, and he notices the ambrosia left next to him. It was strange. Had you really been a goddess, you wouldn't be able to die. Perhaps you had fallen out of worship and grown forgotten by the people who once served you.

Zagreus keeps the ambrosia in his pockets. Maybe he'll give you one once he returns.

The fifth time he lies in the field, he doesn't have as many wounds, but he closes his eyes anyways. Perhaps he could catch you. When he feels as though he's waiting an eternity, he hears the grass rustle. Once the footsteps stop next to him, he grabs the hand that's pressed to his back. "Got you," He smiles. You struggle in his grip, and he can feel you grow warmer. "I won't hurt you," He sits up, keeping your wrist in his hand, taking note of how dainty you were compared to him. Your wrist seems small in comparison to his hand.

You blink at him owlishly, fear visible in your eyes. "Prince. M-my apologies. I didn't want to wake you, though I was worried the wounds would cause problems if left alone. Please don't send me to Tartarus..."

Zagreus sputters. "I assure you, fair maiden, that is not the case. I simply wanted to meet my savior. Perhaps you are a godling as I?"

You shake your head. "I am not. The blessing of Apollo's healing was simply placed on me. I am but a minor deity compared to the Olympians."

"So you fell out of worship?" Zagreus loosens his grip on your wrist. You don't seem like you'll leave if he does.

"No," You shake your head. "My mortal body was destroyed in a fit of rage from my father... My prince, how is it that you're able to touch me? I thought shades could not be touched."

"Elysium is a little different from such rules," He mumbles. "Thank you, for the ambrosia, fair maiden."

"It was but something expected," You mumble, standing back up. "My apologies for holding you back, my prince. I heard you are on your way to Olympus."

"That's not entirely correct," He stands up with you, towering over you almost. "But thank you for your healing, fair goddess."

"The Olympians wouldn't be happy with that title you call me," You mumble shyly as he presses a kiss to your hand. "Go on, my prince. May you continue on your journey with the blessing of a minor deity such as I."

Zagreus smiles gently. "I thank you for the blessing, little goddess."

Zagreus climbs back to the overworld for the fifth time.

On the sixth, he has no injury. He's growing better at climbing, yet he still stops by the meadow where you reside. He wants to see you again. Of the few shades that could touch him, he seemed to like you the best. Your fingers were cool against his skin, and he liked the way you warmed when he complimented you. He likes the way you turn dark from his touch. You were tiny compared to him. He was already short compared to both his parents, but you were even smaller. It seemed you were an even lesser goddess compared to him. He liked the feeling of your hand in his. Ah. He'd have to ask mother what that feeling was. His chest was warmer than the gates of the underworld.

"Lovely maiden," Zagreus presses your hand to his cheek, relishing in the cold of your fingers. You feel divine on his skin. As though Nyx herself had blessed you, your skin was cold as his foster mother's. He liked the feeling of your skin on his.

"My prince," you mumble. "What time is this? I feel as though you've climbed for centuries by now."

"Maiden," He whispers. "That is simply because there is no morning here."

"Ah," you mumble. "The days feel long, even in a paradise such as Elysium."

"I can see that," Zagreus smiles. "Well, I shall be on my way now."

"Yes, my prince," You bow. "Please stay safe. May the blessings of a minor deity as I assist you along the way."

"Thank you, little goddess," He presses your fingers to his lips. "I shall see you in my next run."

Zagreus finds himself heavily wounded on his seventh run. His mother had told him to consider talking to his father properly, and he had fallen dead to the overworld again. Ah, he had forgotten to inquire about the warmth from you. He recalls the words of his mentor, though, wondering if that was how his father felt around his mother. Would he have to move you forcibly to his room? No. That would make him the same as his father. He wouldn't like it.

Neither of you speak while he's injured, and you press your palm to his skin. The cold that spreads through his abdomen stings, though it brings him comfort as well. He has grown used to the cold from your hands, and he wonders if you could press it to his hands to heal them as well. Calluses and rough patches of skin from handling weapons have long plagued his fingers and palms. It was a strange feeling, though it has grown to be welcomed. There is something about your touch specifically. His hand reaches for your face as you start pulling away.

"Goddess," He mumbles, pressing his fingers to your cheek.

"Tis your seventh run, yes?" You mumble, leaning into his touch.

"Yes," He breathes, his breath catching in his throat.

"How many more, my prince?"

"I don't know," he presses his thumb on your bottom lip, swiping across it. Your lip seems small compared to his thumb, he can only imagine how small you would be compared to his hands once he lifts you. Ah. No. He couldn't afford such thoughts. He had barely known you, yet he held such affection for you. Perhaps you had treated him just as you treated everyone else. He didn't know a dead heart could race so fast. "Until my mother returns." He purses his lips. "Though it will only be temporary rest. I don't feel as though I belong here, you see."

"Mm," you hum gently, lashes fluttering to get a better look at the prince. "I'm sure you'd have fun, my prince."

"I do," He smiles. "And I get to see you, my fair goddess, each time."

"How flirtatious of you, prince," You mumble, skin warm again.

"Only with you, my fair goddess," He smiles. "This is for you to take," He places a bottle of ambrosia in your hands. "Until I meet you next time, goddess."

Your skin warms from his ministrations. "May the blessings of a minor goddess as myself keep you safe on your journey."

"A kiss, perhaps?" He smiles, cocking his head to the side gently. "If you don't desire it, then it is fine."

"If the prince desires it," you mumble, using his shoulder as leverage to pull yourself to his cheek. You press your lips to his neck for a moment, and Zagreus finds his skin growing red. He turns to stare at you, the blush visible on his skin. You stare up at him, doe-eyed and smiling. "Then I shall fulfill it."

Zagreus wants to defile you.

The thought comes up suddenly as he stares down at you, and his heart shakes erratically in his chest. Maybe it wasn't a heart. Perhaps it was the blood rushing to his head. Yet, as he watches you fulfill whatever he desired, he couldn't help but wonder if you'd give yourself to him. His hand reaches for your lip again, brushing the bottom lip. You stare at him, staring quietly. Ah. He's been staring for too long. Hopefully, you don't mind it.

"My apologies, little goddess," Zagreus lets go of your face gently. "I shall be on my way."

"May the blessings of a minor goddess as I protect you along the way," You bow, and Zagreus heads out to his mother again.

Zagreus pauses while in the colosseum, a recurring thought plaguing his mind. It would be nice to find you after the fights, though he would have to return again. He wonders how far your healing properties can go. Perhaps he could find you once he climbs the next time. He still needed to convince his mother to return to the underworld with him. Once he does such, he'd be able to leave much easier. His father being distracted would also permit him to spend more time with you while he climbed to the surface. Perhaps he could somehow convince his mother to let you roam around the underworld with him while he traveled upward. A companion along his way would be nice. You could heal him when he needed it as well. He'll talk with mother on the matter.

While on the surface, his mother follows him with more questions. Zagreus wonders if it would be possible to remain on the surface for longer. Perhaps he'd build up an immunity to the sun, and he'd be able to stay out for longer. He should bring you up sometime. Though, it seems you didn't exactly die, so you'd undoubtedly be capable of escaping from the underworld. His father would be greatly angered at such a thought. Letting a goddess that fell out of worship escape the underworld? How foolish of a thought.

"My prince," You stare at him as he steps toward you.

"Goddess," He smiles. "I've come to seek advice, since you seem to have seen more than I."

"A lie," You hum. "But let us see if I shall be of assistance to you."

"My father's chambers," Zagreus swallows, and he pauses. Should he be telling you of such a vulnerable room? No. Even if he were to keep it a secret, he wouldn't know the answer until his mother responded to him. "Do you know of the former queen? My mother?"

"The goddess Persephone?" You tilt your head. "It had been a legend, as many of the people believed you were the son of Nyx, but I suppose you wouldn't be escaping to leave if your mother were here."

"So you do know," He mumbles. "My father has a portrait of my mother hung up in his room, still. After so many years."

You tilt your head to hear more.

"I do not understand why."

"It is love," You smile. "For one does not go so far or so to keep a fragment of someone unless they are in love."

"Is that so," Zagreus mumbles. "Would you like to meet mother?"

"My body is supposedly bound to Elysian," You smile. "Unless the prince was considering abducting me?"

"I do not see why not," He shrugs. "Tis tradition in this house." He smiles cheekily. "As my father had abducted my mother."

"But you do not love me," You watch him as he presses the back of your hand to your lips. "As your father loves your mother."

"I would move you to the office of Hades myself if I could," Zagreus nods, and you press two fingers to his head.

"May the blessings of a minor goddess as I keep you safe on your journey once more," You bow as he steps off.

"Ah," He turns around. "Before I forget." He steps over to you, handing you a bottle of ambrosia. "Would you be willing to move to my chambers if I could move you?"

"We shall talk about that once the chance of such an event occurs," You smile, and Zagreus watches the faux wind brush your hair.

"Of course. Thank you, little goddess," He returns to the arena once more.

In such a way, he supposes Asterius and Theseus have grown tired of his attempts at escaping, though they go no easier on him than they always have. The metal of his weapons clashes against theirs, and he does wonder if his proposal to you could ever go beyond a fleeting thought. Though, as he defeats the heroes once more, he stands and stares at the drops. Perhaps he could bring that up once his mother returns. His father's mood might soften if that were to occur. But alas, pointless thoughts are worth nothing until they follow through.

Zagreus talks to his mother, questioning as to why his father would even begin to keep a portrait of his mother with him. His mother's response is the same as yours, and he pauses at the realization. His mother seems to catch on, and he curses himself as he falls to the river Styx again. He's wasting his time thinking about you while on the surface. His mother is considering it, sure, but gods, he's about ready to steal you for himself. He's sure you'd look much prettier under the sun. He's nearly jealous of your worshippers. Though, he wonders how a foolish thought as such could even plague his mind.

"I have been told," You start, fiddling with your fingers. "That this is not your ninth run, but perhaps your hundredth, my prince."

"That is an overstatement," He hums. "I have lost count as death is not new to me."

"It would seem so," You mumble. "For death is foreign to me."

"You had not passed?"

"The sleep reincarnate had quite the time trying to find my name," You smile. "Hades himself had to welcome me into Elysium since he could not send me back to the overworld."

"Would you like to join me?" He traces circles on your hand. "Since you are not bound there."

"I will be of no help in the arena with Asterius and Theseus. I shall simply wait for your next climb." You shake your head.

"No warrior experience?" He finds it almost baffling. "None?"

"I have fought," You swallow. "But I do not enjoy it, my prince."

"I see," He mumbles, staring at your robes. "Then I shall come find you in my next run."

"I see," You smile. "Please convey my words to your mother. I feel as though the underworld misses their queen, my prince."

"I see," He nods.

"May the blessing of a minor goddess as I," You grab his hand, pressing your lips to his knuckles. "keep you safe on your journey once more, my prince."

Persephone entertains the idea of possibly returning to the underworld. The last words she leaves Zagreus with make his heart flutter at the possibility of his mother returning home with him. He's elated. Once he does, he's sure he'll be able to have her meet you and possibly move you around with him. The idea brings a smile to his face as he talks to Hypnos. The sleep incarnate grimaces and sends him on his way, napping once more as a result. Zagreus doesn't understand why his heart races as he opens his arms for you.

You crash into his chest gently, sighing gently at the feeling of his arms around you. Zagreus thinks you're a little cold, but it's a welcome contrast to his warm skin. His fingers press against your back, and you smile softly. It doesn't reach your eyes, but your body relaxes in his touch, and Zagreus can't help but wonder if something had occurred for you to touch him so willingly. He lets you rest on his chest, and he presses his fingers to the back of your neck. You squirm at the sensation, and he smiles. "Did you miss me, little goddess?"

"Yes," You mumble. "You took time this run, you see, my prince."

"My apologies," He presses a kiss to your hair, and you giggle.

"How was seeing your mother?" You peel yourself from him, lashes fluttering up at him.

"It was nice," He hums, letting go of you. "Are you still willing to reside with me in the main castle?"

"Perhaps once you accomplish your goal on the surface of the earth," You tap his chest mindlessly. "Will the queen return?"

"Perhaps," He closes his eyes, pulling your palm to his cheek. "Will you meet her with me this time?"

"Perhaps," You mumble. "Though, I can not return to the surface with you. It will be of no help."

"I do not mind bringing luggage with me," He lifts you from the ground, grinning as you yelp. You sit on his right shoulder as he rushes to the arena. "If you do not wish to fight, then there is no need for you to."

"I can fight," You swallow, the blade on your thigh.

"But you do not like it," He hums, pulling you to the side. "Just watch me and heal from the sidelines. Please, little goddess." He brushes your hair to the side, and your breath catches in your throat.

"If that is what you will, my prince." You mumble as he carries you off to the arena. A part of you were terrified of Hades's booming voice as the first time, yet Zagreus' arms keep you secure. He couldn't pass with you around. You hadn't passed away, and the healing you provided raised his defenses. You prayed that he would survive with you as luggage. The mere thought of having to battle on your own terrified you. The sight of blood was already a tightrope to walk on.

Your prince fights valiantly, the battle long engrained into his muscles, and he finishes his job with precision. The blood on his skin does not belong to him, but rather his opponents, and the good shade cheers. Your fingers drum against your skin nervously as the gate to the Temple of the Styx opens. The prince offers you his hand, and you follow him. You fear for your life. There were rumors that the gate to the surface was guarded by Lord Hades himself, and you did not wish to meet the god again.

Zagreus passes with you on his shoulder, and he finds that you are much lighter than he thinks. It was as though your bones could break at any moment. He didn't like it, though he was glad you hadn't complained about how quickly he was rushing through. He wanted to meet his mother. Perhaps he'd get his father's blessing along the way, though, he would most likely attempt to send you back to Elysium. He wouldn't let him. It wasn't any more of an act of defiance compared to escaping to meet his mother.

Zagreus reaches the gates to the surface with you still on his shoulder, and his father pauses at the sight. His son has a shade on his shoulder, and he contemplates letting his son out even at all. Though, he recognized the shade. It wasn't a shade, it had been a goddess who had just floated down the River Styx. He supposes letting him go would not hurt, though it would definitely cause a hit to the reputation of the underworld.

"Zagreus," Hades' voice bellows. "What is with the shade?"

"She is not a shade," Zagreus swallows, and he presses his hand to your trembling thigh. "She is a goddess."

"Goddess or not," The king of the underworld roars. "I can not let her escape."

"I am taking her to meet mother," Zagreus grumbles. "If you do not let me pass, we will fight as we always have."

You avert your eyes from the King, and Zagreus' grip on you assures you of your safety. You had not thought he would be so honest with his words. The heat creeps up your cheeks, and you attempt to tune out the King and Prince's conversation. You can feel the heat from frustration radiating off of his body, and you press your palm to the back of the prince's neck. You hope that'll calm him down to some extent. It works, and the prince starts negotiating. The heat at the gate lowers, and you whimper as Zagreus finally rushes out with you.

The overworld is much colder than the underworld. You had forgotten it was near winter, and you tap the prince for him to let you down.

"I promised father to bring you back," He mumbles, holding onto your hand instead. "So you must stay attached to me."

"Of course, my prince," You mumble, stepping onto the grass. "How long do you have?"

"Until I pass," He smiles. "You must return from the styx with me, though."

"I can return through the gates," You follow him as he rushes through the hill to his mother's abode. The snow crunches under your feet, and you glance at the burnt grass from Zagreus' feet. You hadn't paid much attention to the prince, yet it came as a surprise that his feet left ashes in the green. Perhaps his mother had cast a spell in her garden? You try not to think much as the prince leads you to his mother's home. You were undeniably a little worried for meeting the queen of the underworld.

"Mother," Zagreus lets go of your hand, and you stand there, glancing around the garden.

You space out for much of the conversation, rocking on your heels, staring around at the overworld. It has not changed much. You wonder how your people are doing, though they are far from the gates of the underworld. Your eyes linger at the edge of the cliff, and Zagreus' voice cuts you out of your trance. "Mother, this is a minor goddess that ended up in the river Styx," Zagreus pulls you to his mother, warm hands on your shoulder as you smile awkwardly.

"It's... a pleasure to meet you, goddess," You bow.

"Well, there are no need for formalities as such," The goddess smiles. "I remember you. I had visited your temple once."

"I am honored, your highness," You bow in embarrassment. "That you had received the help of a minor goddess as I."

"There is no minor nor major," The queen helps you up, and she smiles. "For we all take care of people."

You flush with embarrassment. "Thank you, my queen."

Your skin warms as the two of them help you onto Charon's boat, and you listen curiously to the sounds of Orpheus and Euridice. The boat rocks rhythmically as you stare at the passing scenery. The green of Elysium is familiar to you, though the lands of Asphodel and Tartarus are foreign to your eyes. You note the screams, and you stare almost longingly at the ever-fading sunlight. Zagreus takes note of it, though he wonders if there were ever a chance you could remain in the overworld. Both of you know that is just foolish wishing.

As the boat stops at the gates of Hell itself, you pause to stare at the gates. They're a terrifying height to you, and as the queen of the underworld herself bellows for the opening of the gates. Zagreus squeezes your shoulder assuringly as he presses his palm to your back. You trail through the gates, next to the prince, swallowing unconsciously as Hades greets his wife and son. You reach for Zagreus' hand instinctually, shaking slightly as his hand clasps you. He rubs gentle circles on the back of your hand as you space out, thinking about your home in Elysium. Though, it seems as though Zagreus does not wish for you to return. Even as you return to the main hall with him, Zagreus does not let go of your hand.

"Goddess," He mumbles. "We shall be throwing a banquet for the olympians. Would you like to join?"

"There is no need," You mumble. "When shall I be returning to Elysium?"

"Do you wish to return to early?" The prince whispers sadly, and you whimper.

"I am worried that Lord Hades will grow angry," You try and explain yourself.

"If he does not, will you stay with me?"

"If it is my prince's will," You avert your eyes, and the prince smiles.

"Then by royal order, you are to stay next to me at all times."

"Even while my prince escapes?" You fiddle with your fingers, letting go of his hand.

"Even while I escape," He presses his hand to your hair and runs it down your back. "You are to stay with me."

"Yes, my prince," You don't know how to feel about it. Though, it seems to be an issue that only you worry about. The preparations for the party are done by Lady Persephone and you, adjusting the tablecloth and food. You help pick the wines, the queen herself growing the grapes, and the underworld quickly hurries to vitalize. It feels very alive, a place that seemed to be no more than death itself. You had never seen Hades work so much on things other than dealing with shades. You're almost impressed.

Zagreus helps his mother adjust the tables in the dining room, and the amount of preparation that goes into the welcoming of the Olympians is baffling. You help around when you can, organizing plates and tasting the food. Zagreus stops you from having a sip of ambrosia while preparing. You bat your lashes at him, and he shakes his head. "There is alcohol mixed into it, fair goddess." You listen, setting it onto the table as he rushes off to help his mother. You smile at the two; after all, he was a mother's boy. You wonder if you had parents of your own, but you brush the thought off. It did not matter.

Once the party ends, you don't complain as you clean up with the other servants, and you don't complain as you wash dishes in River Styx. You find it amusing that you were washing dishes in the river of the dead. The boon of Lady Persephone herself keeps you from decaying, and Zagreus helps you out, drying tableware as you finish the last of the mess. The rest of the castle is restored, and you collapse onto Zagreus' recliner, exhaustion worming through your body. You curl in the cushions, the exhaustion knocking you out. You could worry about other things later once you wake up.

The prince of the underworld steps back into his room, frowning when he couldn't find you after you rushed off to the kitchen. He wonders if you had been sent back to Elysium or attempted to flee. After all, you had looked sad when you boarded the boat to return. He's glad that isn't the case when he finds you on his bed. Your chest rises and falls, the fabric of your chiton barely doing anything to cover your body. It slides down your shoulder, and Zagreus bites his tongue as he shifts it back up your shoulder, covering you. He lifts you from the recliner, placing you in bed gently, as if scared you would break from his touch. Your skin is cool against his as he wraps his arms around you hesitantly, and he closes his eyes. It had been a while since he had fallen asleep.

You wake to warmth pressed against your back and a sweaty body. You don't recall Zagreus' room being so hot. Was Tartarus burning all of a sudden? Perhaps Asphodel had overflowed once more. Yet, as your eyes open and you stretch your arms, you find that you're in the arms of the prince, his head pressed into your shoulder. You pause mid-stretch, and you lower your arms, shuffling to face him. The sheets rustle as you press your ear to his chest, eyes closing again at the sound of his heart. Huh. You didn't know dead people had heartbeats in the underworld.

Zagreus wakes again, sighing at the coolness of your skin. He glances at your new position, and he lies there, staring up at the ceiling. His mind wanders as you lie on him, and he brushes your hair to the side. You look pretty in his arms, and you were all his. You stir in your rest, and you blink drowsily at the male. "Zag?"

"Good morning, goddess," He smiles. "Did you rest well?"

"Very much so," You mumble, tapping his chest gently. His eyes meet yours, and his lips pull into a grin. You look dazzling. He moves his hand to your cheek, tracing the bags of your eyes. Your lips part, leaning into his touch. You contemplate your words for a moment, the prince hanging on the apprehension. Your next words cause his smile to broaden."May... I have a kiss?"

"Yes, goddess," He whispers, lowering himself to press one to your lips lovingly. You wrap your arms around his neck, whimpering at the heat from his hands. His eyes stay half-lidded, and his tongue swipes your bottom lip. You part your lips, letting him press his tongue to yours, sticking closer to him. Zagreus leans further into you, heart ringing in his ears. He whimpers as you move your hands to press to his chest, and he pulls away, the coolness of your skin burning his. He pants, staring at you through his lashes. "What's wrong?"

"I want more," You whimper, squirming as he presses his hands to your waist. Zagreus' face lights up. You seldom asked for more. You must be tired, his pretty goddess. He'll take care of you properly. Anything for you, after all. He pulls the blanket from your shoulders and lifts you into his lap.

"On top or on the bottom, darling," He mumbles, and you reach for his wrist.

"Bottom, please, Zag."

The prince spreads you on the bed, pulling your thighs apart as you ease into the pillows. You chew your bottom lip nervously as he presses his fingers into your legs. You grow embarrassed from his actions, skin flushing.

"Don't do that," You whisper.

"What's wrong?"

"It's embarrassing," You hide your face, and the prince smiles.

"There is no embarrassment," He pulls you to his face by the thigh, and he presses a kiss to the inside of your leg. "You are the lover of the prince of the underworld. There is no shame in a place as this." He lifts the cloth from your legs, scrunching it up. "I'll make sure that you are aware of this, goddess." His fingers trace the outer lip of your labia, thumb meeting your clit to get you wet. You grip the sheets, desperate to cum not squirm. Zagreus is making it increasingly hard for you, your breath quickening as he slides a finger into you. Your thighs squirm to close, and he uses his arms to keep you open. Your struggling falls on deaf ears. He stares in curiosity at the way you coat his fingers. "You're gorgeous, darling." He mumbles, kissing your clit gently. You flush with embarrassment.

"That's embarrassing," You whine again.

"I told you, darling," Zagreus presses his lips to your pussy, pulling his fingers out to keep your legs apart forcibly. "There is no embarrassment to being my lover." He can't see you, but he drinks in the sounds you make as he goes down on you. The room fills up with your gasps, and he moans lightly as your fingers thread through his hair. He presses his tongue flat again, and you whimper as he bites on your clit. You're not sure what happens next, but as the prince goes back down on you in a blur, your legs are tightening around his head, your orgasm crashing down on you. Your lips part, a silent sob slipping past your lips as Zagreus pulls from you. He swipes his fingers across his chin, collecting the slick from your cunt.

"Still embarrassed?," His face drops, and he leans into your face.

You whimper. "N-no."

"Do you want to go all the way?" He stares at the mess on the sheets, and you whimper.

"Yes," You whisper. "I... feel as though I've made you wait long enough."

"Do not think that you are required to satisfy me," He whispers, staring into your eyes. "Never. This is about your comfort."

"I am sure, my prince," You mumble, fingers pressing onto his chest again.

Zagreus pulls his robes to the side, and he gives you one last stare, only pulling you to him as you nod. You're nervous, understandably so, and the prince eases into you, lashes fluttering to stare at you while you stare at where he was sliding into you. He's glad you're wet enough, and he pauses once he's inside of you, rubbing comforting circles onto your waist as you reach for his hand. He entwines his fingers with yours, letting you play with his fingers as you adjust to his size.

You're full. You feel yourself filled to the brim, stretched beyond how you've ever felt with your fingers alone. You fiddle with the prince's hand, the heat from his body warming yours. You wrap your arms around his neck to feel closer to him, and he leans onto you, hands caging you to keep his body weight off of you. You take the moment to stare at his arms and pecs, biting your bottom lip as he shifts himself in you. You exhale, curling upward to his collar, biting quietly. The prince cocks his neck to the side to give you more access, and you bite down, the male moaning. You suck quietly. You wonder if you could ask him to play with his chest another day. He might think it's too much for the first time.

Your lips let go of his neck, and you lower yourself back onto the mattress. "You can move now, my prince."

Zagreus moves slowly, worried that he would break you if he were to move roughly. You can feel him with every drag, sweating. "You're, hah, so dazzling, goddess," The male moans, hissing at the feeling of your nails rake down his skin. You whimper as he drags himself inside of you again, and your eyes are glazed over with tears. Zagreus finds that you look divine like this. The mixture of sweat and spit on the two of you causes your skin to glisten, and his half-lidded eyes flick over your body. You look ethereal. Ah, not even the skies of the overworld could rival your beauty. He can't believe he gets to have you like this.

You gasp and writhe under him, broken sobs cracking out of your throat as he thrusts into your repeatedly. You feel his sweat build up under your nails, yet you don't mind. Every inch of your body is on fire, and you whimper at how full you feel. You feel every inch of him drag through you at each thrust, and your toes curl behind him. It's drunkening. Your body is a mess from him, the cum staining his sheets, yet Zagreus doesn't stop. Your arms fall above your head, Zagreus entwining his hand with one of yours. You feel embarrassed, trying to muffle your voice in his pillows. "Zag... Zag... Ah, Zahg" You gasp as he presses his chest to yours, forcing your eyes to meet his. "I'm going to... hah... cum... please..."

Zagreus presses a kiss to your collar, his thumb moving down to meet your clit. You were calling his name so sweetly, how could he not comply? Your back hits the bedding again, nails digging into his shoulders. You moan and babble incoherently as he speeds up, and you cry as your orgasm hits. It jolts down your spine, your pussy clenching on him, causing the prince to curse on your skin, fucking you through your orgasm. You cry from the overstimulation, and the prince strings apologies into your ears as he chases his own orgasm. "Zahg... nn," You cry. "It feels weird... a-ah," Zagreus presses his lips to yours, finally feeling himself cum as your nails dig back into his skin. He doesn't think much as he forces himself into you deeper so that his cum stays, and you finally relax onto the pillows, tear stains visible on your cheeks.

"Sorry, darling," He mumbles, pressing a kiss to your cheek, licking the salt curiously. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," You whimper as he pulls out. "I'm fine. Thank you, my prince."

"Rest again, my goddess." He mumbles, kissing your forehead. "I shall take care of you."

"I'm sorry," Your eyes shut. "My prince."

"There is nothing for you to apologize for," He pulls the covers over you once more, and you drift off.

#this is two years old. no i will not elaborate #☾.nsfw #hades game #zagreus x reader #reader insert #☾.fics #hades game x reader #beeeeg sigh. no more tags other than that this one is staying HIDDEN #oh my god why is the tag trending this is EVILLL NOO DON'T PERCEIVE MEEE :(

621 notes · View notes

unfinishedslurs · 4 months ago

Text

The boy stops in his tracks. “I know you,” he says, tilting his head curiously. He’s not tall, but he’s regal nonetheless, dressed all in white. Something about him makes Leia’s hair stand on end, and although she hides it she feels a stirring in her own chest. I know you like I know my own soul, she thinks wildly, and wonders where it came from. Has she gone insane?

“That’s nice,” she says, and shoots him anyway.

He deflects it in a flash of light, a glowing blue laser sword appearing in his hand like magic. She’s only seen one of those before, and it’s Vader’s. If this boy is anything like Vader, she realizes, she’s in deep shit.

She’s smart enough to know when she’s outmatched. Leia makes the tactical decision to run for her life.

Later, as she’s getting the hell out of there, she wonders why he didn’t try to stop her.

She remembers being young and tugging on her mothers skirts, demanding to know why their guest was so sad. “Does he not like it here?” She’d asked, and then, trembling, because Kenobi always seemed saddest around her. “Is it…because of me?”

“Oh, Leia,” her mother sighed, lifting her into her arms. “It’s not that, I promise.”

“Then what is it?”

“Master Kenobi lost a child under his care, years ago.” Breha’s eyes grew deeper, darker. “It was not his fault, but he blames himself. You remind him of that child, that’s all.”

Leia had quieted at that, contemplative.

The next time she’d seen Master Kenobi, she had given him a hug. He didn’t seem to know what to do with that, so she resolved to give him more of them. “He’s lonely,” she’d told her mother. “No one should be lonely.”

Looking at Obi-Wan Kenobi now, the memory seemed so far away. He’d aged thirty years in the ten it had been.

He looks, Leia thinks with a small twinge of regret, very lonely.

“Leia,” he greets. “It’s been a long time.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Leia sees a glint of white.

Kenobi freezes in his tracks. “Luke?” He whispers, and through the distance Leia can hear it as if he’d been speaking directly into her ear.

Master Kenobi lost a child under his care, her mother whispers in her head. He blames himself.

In an instant, Leia understands everything.

Kenobi is still staring at the boy he’d lost so long ago when Vader cuts him down.

Later, as she’s pacing around on the Falcon to Han muttering darkly about Princesses and supernatural abilities, she rememberers the way the boy collapsed, as if all his strings had been cut. Vader was too occupied with him to even look at her as she shot at him desperately.

Luke. She hates him more than she hates herself.

“They know where you are,” he hisses frantically. “They’re coming for you. You have to run.”

“Wait!” Leia quickly pulls up their sonar. Nothing yet, but it would explain the distant queasiness she’d felt since they’d landed. She tended to trust her gut. “How do you know? How much time do we have?”

“Not important, and not enough,” he says. “I have to go, and so do you. You need to leave yesterday.”

“How do I know I can trust you? I don’t even know who you are.”

He pauses. “Call me Skywalker.”

“That’s not an answer, Skywalker.”

“Yes it is.”

She opens her mouth to argue, but there are faint voices on the other end, drawing nearer.

“Shit,” Skywalker mutters. “I have to go. I’ll be in contact, okay? Don’t ever tell me where you are, or where you’re heading. Vader and Palpatine aren’t shy about reading minds. Just leave as soon as you can, and figure out the rest.”

“But—“

It’s too late. The comm has disconnected.

She stares down at it, disbelieving. How would the Empire know they’re here? Why should she trust a stranger who somehow got her personal comm code?

Gut feeling or not, on paper this was a perfect location. Supplied, armored, and most importantly, extremely well hidden. There was no real reason to think it would possibly be found out.

It’s probably a trap. Almost definitely a trap.

Han sticks his head in the door, a sour look on his face. “Hey Princess, can you tell these idiots—“

She makes a decision then and there.

“We’re leaving.”

“What?”

“We’re evacuating, effective immediately.” She pushes past him, and he follows so close he’s nearly stepping on her heel.

“Why? I think it’s pretty cozy here. Actual sunlight doesn’t hurt, either.”

“Apparently too cozy.” She grabs the first person she sees, a pilot who stares at her with wide eyes. “Emergency evacuation. Spread the word to pack everything you can and leave, I’ll let you know where we’re headed when we’re in orbit.”

He salutes and scurries off.

“Woah, hey now.” Han snatches at her elbow until she turns around to face him. “What’s going on?”

“There’s a new informant. He told me the Empire knows we’re here. They’re coming for us.”

“And you trust this person because…”

“I don’t have a choice,” she snaps. Someone runs past them, holding three packs filled to the brim with rations. “It’s either he’s lying and we’re not in danger, or he’s telling the truth and we’re going to die if we don’t listen. It’s not exactly hard math.”

It could be a trap of course, but he hadn’t suggested any sort of direction or destination to follow, and Leia wasn’t inclined to share. Especially not after his tidbit about Vader and Palpatine reading minds.

He squints at her. “That’s not it.”

“What?”

“I don’t believe you,” he insists. He’s so infuriating. Leia doesn’t know why she hasn’t kicked him out yet.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes you do, and you’re either gonna tell me why, or find a different transport when we head out of here.”

“Who said I was riding on your hunk of junk?” She demands. She actually was planning on going with them, since the Falcon has more than enough room for all the supplies that can’t fit in the other ships and none of the trustworthiness of the other pilots, but Han doesn’t need to know that.

“Well?”

Damn him. Damn him for knowing how to read her. She doesn’t know when she let that happen.

“I feel it,” she admits, defeated. “Something tells me he’s trustworthy. We’ll wait and see if it’s right.”

He studies her. She holds her head high, but inside she’s jittery at the scrutiny. They don’t have time for this.

“Yeah, all right,” Han finally says.

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” He rolls his eyes, like she’s not acting absolutely insane by putting all her trust in a random man she’s never even met. “Now come on, Princess, weren’t you the one who said we had to hurry?”

What is it about this man that makes it impossible to tell whether she wants to punch him or drag him into the nearest supply closet? They don’t have time to find out.

“So there’s good news and bad news.”

“Bad news first,” she demands.

“They know there’s a mole.”

“Shit.” Of course they know, how could they not? She should have been more careful, less obvious about the correlation of their movements with the Empire’s plans. “The good news?”

“They’ve tasked me with hunting down this ‘pathetic rebel spy,’” Skywalker says, humor in his voice. “That should buy me some time.”

Leia can’t quite stop the snort she lets out. “Seriously?”

“Yep. You’re speaking to a professional mole-hunter, here.”

“Well congratulations on the promotion, Skywalker.”

“Thank you,” he says grandly. Then, quieter, “It won’t last, Princess. They’ll find out eventually.”

“I know. Just hang in there, it will be over soon.”

“Will it?” He asks, suddenly sounding very young. She realizes that she has no idea how old he is. She doesn’t know anything about the man who has saved them more times than she cared to admit, and the idea rattles her until they sign off.

Later, she looks up the name Skywalker in their archives. There are a few results, but only one sticks out.

Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight and hero of the Clone Wars. Killed at the hands of Darth Vader. There are gossip articles too, speculations on his relationship with the pregnant Senator Padmé Amidala, who died around the same time Skywalker did. The baby, it seems, died with her.

Unless he didn’t.

It’s ridiculous. It’s impossible. The idea is so ludicrous that Leia almost rejects it entirely.

But it makes sense. By the Maker, it makes sense.

The child of Anakin Skywalker, it seems, would be a powerful Force user indeed. Powerful enough for Kenobi to take the baby and run. Powerful enough for the Emperor to want him for his own gain. Powerful enough to send Vader after Kenobi and take the boy himself.

Maybe even powerful enough to shield his mind from Vader and Palpatine’s intrusions.

Powerful enough to hide the fact that he’s a spy.

Leia sinks into her chair, covering her face as she laughs.

Maybe Luke isn’t so bad after all.

“No, no, no,” she mutters, digging through the smoking wreckage of the TIE fighter. “Don’t be dead, please don’t be dead.”

“Princess…” Han lays a hand on her shoulder that she immediately shrugs off.

“No, he’s not dead. He’s not. Luke!”

A faint cough answers her, and she’s so relieved to hear it she could cry. Behind her, Han starts bellowing for a medic and, “Some damn help here, do you expect us to move all this ourselves?”

“Luke, it’s me,” she sobs. “It’s Leia. You’re at the Rebel Base. You’re safe.”

More coughing, and there’s a worrying rasp to his voice when he says, “You know…my name?”

“I figured it out.”

“Smart.” This time, the coughing is so bad Leia and Han both wince.

“Shit, kid,” Han says, moving another piece of rubble. “Don’t talk. We’re gonna get you out of here, all right?”

“Stand back,” Luke chokes out.

“What?”

“Stand back. Please.”

Han protests, but something in Leia knows they should listen to him. She drags him back, and motions everyone else to fall back with them. They do, albeit reluctantly.

“Clear,” she calls, hoping Luke can hear her.

The TIE explodes.

“Fuck!” Han goes back in, Leia on his heels with the terrifying feeling that she’d just allowed Luke to die, before they both stop in their tracks. Around them, the broken pieces of the TIE are floating.

And curled up in the middle is a man dressed all in white.

“Luke!” She pushes past Han to start dragging him out, and after another moment of staring around them, he helps her.

As soon as they get clear, the pieces fall to the ground with a clatter. Luke falls limp with them.

Han is still looking at the TIE. “Can you do that?” He asks quietly.

Leia pauses her examination of the unconscious man in front of her to glare at him. “Is that what you’re most concerned with right now? Really?”

“Excuse me for asking, Princess!”

“It’s white,” Luke grumbles, pulling at his hospital gown bitterly. “I hate wearing white.”

“Should I be offended?”

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t even. You look great and you know it. I just feel like I never left.”

“Well,” she says gingerly. “I guess it’s a good thing you got sick of it. If we went around in matching outfits all the time, people might think we’re twins.”

He snorts. “Yeah, right.”

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #luke skywalker #han solo #leia organa #imperial luke skywalker #exactly when luke was taken by the empire is totally up to speculation it could honestly be anywhere from newborn to 5 #as for why luke has his dad’s blue lightsaber here instead of like a red one or smth- well you see your honor I thought it would be a slay #but also when you think about it for more than 5 seconds you’re like actually yeah that’s sick and twisted of palpatine and vader actually #you’re carrying your fathers most treasured weapon #you don’t know your father once fought the rise of the very empire you stand to inherit with that blade. you don’t know who he defended #you don’t know your father brought about the end of the republic with that same weapon #he killed the younglings with it. he fought his closest companion with it #you’re carrying what was once your fathers most treasured weapon. you are your fathers most treasured weapon #just as your father is a weapon now #also I didn’t make it clear but obi-wan has his ‘strike me down and I become stronger’ moment like he still dies on purpose to cause proble #but when he saw luke he couldn’t look away. he had to see him with living eyes one last time #can u tell I had So Many Thoughts on everyone else’s perspective in this fic too #han is having a constant crisis in the background because 1) force is real 2) princess is annoying AND pretty which sucks for him #in particular and 3) pretty princess is learning to use the force and is hot while doing it. Chewie is laughing at him. life is hell #good lord did not mean to put an entire essay in the tags. i love their super special twin powers (cosmic entity that binds their souls)#edit: GUYS I FORGOT TO NAME THE FUCKING AU #AND WHEN I TRY AND FIX IT IT GLITCHES OUT ON MEEE 😭😭😭

222 notes · View notes