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flowerandblood · 1 year ago

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The Moonlight Ray (2/2)

[ Hades • Aemond x Persephone • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, oral sex, fingering, smut, angst, obsession, incest, toxic jealousy, death threats, domination ]

[ description: When his beloved Persephone returns to him after nine months of separation they reunite in joy and growing closer to each other. However, three months of their happiness pass all too quickly, and when he has to accept separation with his wife again he discovers that Adonis, the young man with whom Aphrodite herself has fallen in love, has been watching his wife in the bath. Dark, tocically possessive and obsessive Aemond. ]

At the request of my readers and as a gift to celebrate 2k of my followers I wrote the second part of The Evening Star fanfic, but it can also be read as a stand-alone story.

The Evening Star & The Moonlight Ray Persephone Moodboard

*English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy!*

My others works: Masterlist

_____

He didn't know the feeling of longing before her, he didn't know the feeling of despair or suffering, he didn't know that it was possible to wither each day with uncertainty while clinging to hope.

He did not believe that when the nine months she was to spend with her mother had passed she would return to him, to his dark, cold caves, to be locked of her own free will in his stone prison.

Although he did not believe it, she returned to him.

She came back to him and gave herself to him, and he took her, sinking deep into her body, filling her with his seed, understanding at last why men wanted so much to be husbands to their wives and have them all to themselves.

The only feeling that was more powerful than his love for her was his jealousy, his greed, his possessiveness.

When she stayed with her mother among the fields and meadows he cared that his envoys, bats, owls and snakes made sure that no men dared to look at her, let alone approach her, speak to her, try to touch her.

Any such bolder, charmed as he was by her infinite, shining beauty and sweetness, ended his life miserably, blinded or bitten by his servants − he watched with satisfaction as the souls of naive human boys thinking they had the right to ask her for her hand floated down the wide, pale streams of the Styx.

She was his alone.

To his satisfaction, his envoys reported to him each day that she did not seek the pleasure or attention of any other men, spending her days with her nymphs on bathing and playing, helping her mother bless the crops.

He decided to reward her for her devotion, for her faithfulness, and once he held her in his grasp he did not let her go for five days and five nights, alternately caressing her with his hands, his lips and his length, discovering the secrets of her soft, warm, feminine body.

He knew that his sister, the Goddess of Love and Desire, after he had rejected her efforts, would not help him understand such a complicated matter as female fulfilment, so he decided to discover for himself the path that led to it, exploring her body with his corpse-cold lips, seeking the places of her greatest pleasure.

He found that a sweet, innocent sounds erupted from her chest as he sucked and licked her nipples, that a soft sigh left her lips as he kissed her long neck − however, it wasn't until he sank his face between her thighs, it wasn't until his tongue tasted her moisture, his lips brushed her folds, that he realised he had found his way to her ecstasy.

He ate her like a greedy madman, recognising that her juices were more delicious than ambrosia itself, smelling of her and her arousal, her desire he craved so much − his lips licked and sucked her pearl, and then his tongue slid deep between her slick folds, driving her body into convulsions, pathetic, loud mewls erupting from her throat, her trembling hands clenched on his hair.

"− please − that's enough, husband − please −" She begged after each fulfilment, which he brought her to with painfully slow, deliberate flicks of his tongue and lips, watching her with delight, taking handfuls of her sweet reactions, her vulnerability, her awareness that she was dependent only on his will.

He hummed with amusement not long after her intense rapture starting his arduous work all over again, already noticing what movements of his lips were bringing her to spasms, making her fall apart in front of him − he lifted himself slowly on his arms, her eyes dark and misty, her whole body trembling with exertion in his hands.

"− please − please −" She whispered pleadingly when he turned her onto her stomach and he knelt behind her on the bedding, lifting her buttocks higher. Her mumbling turned into loud whines as he slid his fat cock deep inside her, all hard after what he'd done to her, his hands clenched on her hips, his thrusts deep, sharp and sure.

Ever since he had discovered what delight lay inside her, what a blessing it was to fill her to the brim with his seed, he hadn't been able to hold back − her entrance was all moist and sticky from her earlier fulfilments, their bodies slapping against each other with a loud, lewd splat.

"− what was it again? − you can't take it after you left me for nine long months? −" He hissed out in fury, pumping his swollen, hard manhood into her with fast, aggressive thrusts, holding her hips in an iron grip, panting loudly along with her as he felt her core clench against him in panic, overstimulated and tired.

He pressed his lips together, biting his lower lip as he saw her open her mouth wide, her body adorned with droplets of sweat, her yellow flowers primly woven into her hair scattered around her head.

"− uncle −" She mewled pleadingly and cried out loudly, simultaneously suffering and taking pleasure from this aggressive, perverse act of two naked bodies colliding with each other, her moisture trickling down her thighs.

"− I'm here, Persephone − your husband is by your side −" He exhaled with a kind of tenderness and care, not slowing down, racing his own fulfilment approaching faster and faster with each brutal thrust into her hot, fleshy interior.

When she came she almost screamed his name, writhing beneath him, clenching her hands on their bedclothes, convulsing − he tilted his head back, groaning and panting loudly, finally achieving the fulfilment he craved, filling her with himself.

When he decided that he was satisfied for the moment his wife was trembling all over, looking up at him with her lips parted, her gaze dulled, warm, tired, fulfilled. He laid down beside her, turning his face towards her, and touched her cheek with his icy-cold palm.

"− Persephone −"

Ever since she had returned, ever since she had freely chosen to be his, he had noticed a satisfying change in her that filled him with pride and desire.

She wore his gifts, his dark robes and gowns embroidered with pearls, jewels and rays of light, a crown of golden laurel leaves on her head.

She agreed to be his Queen.

Queen of the World of the Dead.

The underworld as she passed was suddenly filled with a warm glow, his servants at his request obeying her every command, being at her every whim.

He demanded that her throne stand next to his, that she not stand beside him during the audiences, but could sit by his side, equal to him.

Her words, filled with compassion and understanding, made him show his visitors grace more frequently than usual just to please her; looking at her from the side, seeing her smile of contentment, all he could think about was how much he didn't want to give her back to her mother.

Was he not trying hard enough?

Why should she leave him?

His joy and fulfilment began to give way to frustration and uncertainty with each day bringing them closer to her leaving once more. One night, after he had come hard inside her after hours of caresses and the wonderful, tender passion of two lovers this question self-consciously ripped from his throat.

"Will you leave me again?"

She looked at him surprised, the soft smile of fulfilment changed to a concerned, confused expression − she touched his cheek as if she sensed that what she was about to tell him would enrage him.

"My beloved … after all, you know what I promised my mother." She whispered quietly. He pressed his lips together and rose in fury, putting on his black robe hastily, tying it hurriedly around his waist.

Seeing that he wanted to leave her chamber she lifted herself quickly, all bare, with only a golden wreath of leaves on her head, and she stepped in his way, placing her hands on his cold, naked chest.

"− please − please, my dearest, do not stop me again −" She mumbled pleadingly, and he clenched his jaw, looking at her with rage and hatred.

"Do not fret. I will not." He hissed, sidestepping her, opening the door with a loud thud, leaving her terrified, hearing her loud, helpless cry.

Though she tried to besmirch him with her touch and presence, he could not look at her, knowing that she would leave him again, that he would again forget what her body looked like, her scent would fly from her chambers, her throne would remain empty.

"Every wife on earth and in the heavens leaves her home to be united with her husband, yet I must share you with your cursed mother." He growled in anger, pacing around his chamber as she came to him again begging him to speak with her.

She lowered her gaze at his words, all pale, not daring to interrupt him.

"Still, if it were a fair share! Nine months with me and three with her, or even six months with me and six with her! But by what right do you spend a greater part of the year with her than with me? Why do you allow it and make me accept it?" He asked coldly, darkly, low, from deep in his throat, feeling that the water of the Styx and the screams of the dead flowed through his veins.

"The earth won't have time to yield crops. When I am gone she falls into despair, there is winter on the land, everything freezes and dies. People will starve." She whispered with difficulty, looking at him pleadingly, wanting him to understand.

"I CARE NOT! LET THEM STARVE, LET THEIR BODIES ROT, LET YOUR MOTHER AND MY SISTER CHOKE ON HER AGONY AND DESPAIR, I CURSE HER!" He thundered in a tone so cold, terrifying and cruel, the ground shook around them, dust and ashes sprinkled from the high ceilings of the caves.

His Persephone looked at him trembling all over and burst into sobs, running out of his chamber − he was panting heavily as he led her away with his eyes, and then he cursed loudly and growled like an animal, burying his face in his hands.

All he wanted was for her to stay with him.

He visited her that night, enveloped her in warm furs, slipping underneath them to lie down beside her, pressing her against his naked body. She didn't push him away − she let him lift her thigh gently and explore her warm, moist womanhood with his hand.

She let him take her, let his length fill her to the brim, let him move inside her with slow, calm thrusts of his hips. He brought her to fulfilment with the circular motions of his fingers around her bud, whispering in her ear that she was his curse, his doom, his madness and the object of his endless desire.

He filled her with his spend several times that night, taking her tenderly and slowly, once apologising and once demanding her repentance for driving him to despair − she sobbed in his arms with helplessness and pleasure, peaking again and again, confessing to him her boundless, most sincere love.

"− once a month, when the full moon lights up the night sky we will meet where you saw me for the first time − I fled then from my mother when she slept, and I will flee for you to sweeten our separation −" She whispered and he felt the heat spill over his heart.

Roused by the sudden passionate feeling he kissed her greedily and took her once more.

It was easier for him to bear the thought of separation when he knew that he would not have to wait nine months to see her again, but one.

Counting down the days, he laid in her bedding, surrounded by her scent, thinking about the warmth of her bare body, about the moans that flowed from her lips like a sweet nectar.

As promised, on the night the full moon fell, he left Hades − his body was filled with anticipation, he felt a tickle in his fingertips and a burning desire in his loins.

It had been so long since he had touched her.

He did not recognise himself or his behaviour, catching himself with rage that around her he was like his brother, emotional and pawing, endlessly thirsty.

He shuddered when he heard the rustling of the grass, his wife, his lover, his Evening Star was walking towards him between the century-old trees with a light, peaceful step, a smile full of joy and warmth beamed from her bright face.

He licked his lips as he looked at her with satisfaction, seeing that she had chosen a robe of such fine material that he could see the whole outline of her body perfectly − the fabric shone with a pearly lustre in the starlight, her hair partly braided at the back of her head, partly loose, in her locks the same blue flowers as when he saw her for the first time.

"Could it be that the Moonlight Ray has finally illuminated my endless night of longing?" She whispered softly, her swollen, moist lips parted slightly.

He felt her words in his manhood, which pulsed aggressively under the material of his black robe − he looked down at her with eye full of thirst.

He wanted to devour her.

He threw himself at her, pressing her to the ground wet with dewy grass and flowers, tearing her beautiful robe to shreds, exposing her naked body in front of him − she moaned in surprise, trying loudly to catch air in her lungs.

Her body arched backwards in a convulsion as his length slid suddenly between her thighs, pushing her throbbing, hot muscles to their limit.

She was so wet, she was clenching so hard against him that he gasped loudly, and immediately began to root into her, making them both pant with pleasure, his hands on either side of her head looking at her beautiful face.

"− take it − take what your husband is giving you −" He hissed slamming into her with quick, sharp, brutal thrusts of his hips − she whimpered beneath him, her tight, hot walls sucking him inside.

She gave herself fully to him, spreading her thighs wide before him in a gesture of submission, experiencing ferociously intense fulfilment with him.

They spent the whole night together, amidst the rustle of grass and leaves, the light of moon and stars, gazing on their faces, lying naked, hidden from the world.

This time it was she who begged him before dawn not to leave, to stay with her a while longer, but he did not listen to her pleas, wanting her to feel what he felt, to experience a substitute for his suffering, although his body screamed for him to take her once more.

Their monthly meetings sweetened the goblet of bitterness of her absence, and although he could not bear the emptiness that filled the underworld without her, he appreciated that at least in this way they could experience relief.

He thought that, like in the stories of people that were passed down from father to son, they met like forbidden lovers, taking solace in each other's arms.

When word reached him that a human youth had captured the heart of one of his sisters, Aphrodite, the same one he had refused years before, he was not particularly bothered, knowing her nature and how easily she changed the objects of her affections.

This Adonis of whom he had heard so much was supposed to be a beautiful young man with big, brown eyes, his black hair curly and shiny, his body built no worse than Hercules or Ares himself.

However, when one day his servant reported to him that Adonis had been seen in the company of his wife and her mother, that from the shrubs he had watched his Persephone bathing, he felt an anger he had never known before in his life.

His rage did not allow him to wait until the next full moon.

His envoys reported to him where Demeter and his wife were staying to rest with their nymphs and Adonis himself.

He came there at night, when everyone was asleep − his steps was followed by a translucent blue mist, enveloping the sleepers with a faint scent, leaving them incapable of being awake for as long as he wished.

He did not allow the smoke to reach his wife's nostrils; with a gesture of his hand he commanded the clouds to change direction so that they avoided her body, clad in a white, half-transparent robe.

He stood over her, looking at her thoughtfully, then lifted his gaze and noticed Adonis sleeping nearby under a tree, facing her, as if he had fallen asleep looking at her.

He pressed his lips together at the thought, recognising that he would deal with him later.

He knelt down, placing his knees on either side of her body − his hand with a light, sure movement reached into the material of her robe and untied it. She shuddered all over, awakening from a deep sleep, terrified and wanting to scream, feeling that someone had exposed her body, so he covered her mouth with his ice-cold hand.

"− shhh −" He hushed her reassuringly when she finally looked at him, her gaze turned from horror and fear to disbelief and joy − she wanted to embrace him but he wouldn't let her, grabbing her wrists.

"− husband − what are you −" She mumbled, shocked and flustered by his presence and squealed quietly as he lifted her up and turned her back to him, gripping her hip with one hand and her neck with the other. He squeezed her cheeks with his fingers and directed her face to the young boy sleeping before them.

"Handsome, isn't he? I heard he has two beautiful dark eyes. If you find them pleasing, I can gift them to you." He whispered in her ear and she trembled all over at his words, her hands tightened on his arm, her breathing quickened in terror.

"− no − I would never − ah −" She cried out quietly as she felt his fingers slide between her thighs with uncertain, soft movement checking what state she was in.

Her lips parted wide and she involuntarily reached back to grab his hair as the tip of his finger began to tease her slit with a sticky, loud click of her moisture.

"− no? − my wife is a little liar, isn't she? −" He hissed low, sliding his finger deeper into her hot core, overpowered by jealousy and rage at the very thought that she might have wanted anyone else, that her thoughts might have been occupied with another men while he thought only about her.

"− I'm not − I'm not, my beloved −" She uttered with difficulty, involuntarily rising and falling on his finger, seeking any source of friction, panting quietly, despite her terror her walls throbbed with arousal.

"− did you let him look at your naked body? − I know he tried to watch you in the bath −" He growled icily, sliding his finger out of her, untying his robe and directing her to the tip of his manhood, feeling that he couldn't wait any longer, that he had to take her, had to show himself and her who she truly desired.

"− no − I didn't - I didn't know − I swear −" She mumbled and parted her lips, letting out a loud, helpless cry as he thrust his length into her so deeply, that he felt like he was going to pierce her stomach.

He covered her mouth with his hand, licking his lips, feeling her walls clench on him greedily.

She sobbed helplessly into his hand, panting loudly along with him, her gaze hazy, absent, stupefied with pleasure, her hand clenched in his hair allowing her to keep her balance as she rose and fell on him with a loud click of her moisture, his lips pressed to her ear.

"− be quiet − if you wake him up with those sweet sounds, and he sees me take you − sees your naked body − sees your husband sink into you − I'll have no choice but to put his eyes out before I kill him − that would be a huge pity, wouldn't it? − such a handsome face −" He hissed, slamming into her with brutal, deep, fast thrusts of his hips, teasing a spot hidden deep inside her fleshy core.

"− that's right − take me like a good wife you are − take me and maybe I would let him live − would you like that? − would you like your pretty little boy? −" He growled with rage while accelerating aggressively, his hand from her hip slid between her thighs, in circular sharp strokes squeezing her pearl, his other hand pressed against her mouth, muffling the high pitched, pathetic sounds coming from her throat.

With each thrust he stretched her slick walls to the limit, panting along with her, his face pressed against her cheek, her scent wonderfully filling his lungs.

He felt her fingers suddenly tighten on his arm, trying to remove his hand from her mouth – he lowered it and she turned her face towards him, their lips, their tongues, their teeth found each other in a lustful, brutal, greedy kiss, her hand clamped tighter on his hair, holding him close.

"− only yours −" She gasped in the passionate, aggressive dance of their lips and tongues. "− I'm only yours −"

He groaned low into her throat, his manhood twitched hard inside her, demanding to be relieved and fulfilled.

"− I'm going to kill him − I'm going to kill him for you −" He breathed out darkly, low, pounding his length into her with all strength he had in his hips.

She came at his words, aroused by his jealousy, by his possessiveness, moaning loudly into his mouth, her core began to clench against him in pleasure; her body trembled all over as his length slid in and out of her through her elation, refusing to let her come down from her peak.

He felt her throbbing walls squeeze his seed out of him and gasped, sinking his face into her neck – he clenched his eyes shut, panting loudly, focused only on his own pleasure, his fulfilment.

They were both breathing fast and unevenly, trembling with overstimulation – her hand let go of his hair and stroked his face tenderly, her nose and forehead pressed against his cheek.

He sighed quietly, glancing at her, and then they kissed passionately, tenderly, sucking and licking their lips with a soft click.

He pulled away from her, running his fingers over her beautiful, gentle face, in her eyes exactly what he wanted to see.

Love as infinite as the darkness of Hades itself.

He kissed her cheek tenderly, running the tip of his nose over her soft, hot face, his lips traveling to her ear.

_____

"You can choose how he will die."

Thank you very much for giving me the opportunity to write part two, I love this couple and the atmosphere of mythology surrounding them, unmistakable and very poetic. I hope you like it as much as the first part.

Aemond Taglist

@dc-marvel-girl96 @its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @rwdkarla @echos-muses @ipostwhtifeel @letmeloveyouuuu @yentroucnagol @valeskafics @verena-targaryen-writes @talesofoldandnew @happinessinthebeing @travelingmypassion

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izvmimi · 6 months ago

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#mimi polls #also i don't claim to be an expert on any of this #anyway it's more fun if you explain why

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pinkdaisies9285 · 9 months ago

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Adonis Fooled Me

Jake Seresin x F!Reader (callsign: Kore)

Warnings: Angst, cheating, implied smut, this just pure sadness

Word Count: 2,118

Author's Note: It's finally here! The angst piece I promised and pulled out of nowhere. Not gonna lie didn't think I would write something this sad but here we are. It's loosely based on the myth of Adonis, Aphrodite, and Persephone! This was also spurred from listening to a lot of sad songs. Thank you again my lovely beta readers! Enjoy!

All you felt was pain, seeping from the invisible wounds that were created from this relationship. You felt like Icarus when he flew too close to the sun and began his fall back to the earth. You didn’t think that you would leave him like this. You thought that only Death’s cold hands would pry you from him, but you were wrong. You could still see the moment the final nail was put in the coffin.

His hands on her hips. The smile she gave him before he leaned in for a kiss. The look of dread both of them made when they saw you. The endless river of tears that marked your face while you ran out of the bar.

It was all too sudden but simultaneously, it felt like the final puzzle piece was put into place why he was avoiding your touch for the past six months. Why he didn't want to discuss a possible future with one another. Why he kept coming home “late from work.” It all made sense why he was slowly fading away from your sight and was going to her.

Her.

The one whose smile seemed like it could light up a room. The one who became his one and only. The one whose bed became his home and safe place. The one that seemed like a more plausible future to him.

At one point, you felt like you were all these things, but now you felt like a fraud. Like a toy that was left under the bed because it was broken. Broken was an understatement—everything you did to get him back to you was strenuous. Yet, you felt hollow, like you were never good enough. Good enough for the proud, cocky pilot he was. Good enough for the great Jake Seresin.

Everyone told you that you were imagining the downfall of this idyllic relationship. That you should know better about being in a relationship with a Navy man. He would be gone for long periods and that contact could be low. Yet, you knew in your bones that this wasn’t because of his job. His job had nothing to do with this except that the one he chose was the new coworker. The new pilot was known as Venus. She got the callsign from her looks and her ability to get through fights with ease. Dogfighting and war came to her like a second nature. Looking perfect was just a “bonus.”

His words, not yours.

While you were a civilian who worked at the local botanic gardens. Which resulted in your nickname of Kore. Which was given by the Daggers. When you first heard it, you felt special to be given a nickname, nonetheless one that is the name of a goddess. Who knew that your nickname would match your relationship. Who knew that you wouldn’t be the only goddess in his life.

Jake is everso an Adonis in the best and worst ways. From his looks to the suave one-liners he gave to women at the bar. He was a man worth the attention. That attention was what made you suffer. He made you believe that you were a match made by the fates but he left you for a better woman. A woman who could keep up with him in ways you couldn’t. A woman who revealed parts of him you didn’t even know about.

All these thoughts continued to twist the dagger in your heart deeper and longer. Pain that felt like it wouldn’t even ebb away. It would only grow and create a festering wound there. You knew that it would take a while for this pain to go away and the wound to heal. If it ever did.

—

And that wound did heal, somewhat. The ache dulled until it was a small pinprick that made itself present time from time. You healed your pain, it was messy but you did your best to build yourself back together stronger than before.

That was before you saw him again. You hadn’t visited the Hard Deck in a while and hoped that maybe you wouldn't cross paths with him. Yet, there he was standing near the dart board with Javy. He looked the same as before, before you left him with Venus. Venus, who wasn’t anywhere. You tried not to look for the beautiful pilot but that pinprick urged you to. Yet, everywhere you looked she wasn’t there. Which surprised you considering you thought she would be nestled up next to Jake while he threw darts. Something you used to do when you thought everything in the world was perfect.

“Kore?”

You turned around and saw Bradley looking at you confused and surprised, like he was seeing a ghost for the first time.

“Hi, Bradley. How are you?” you softly replied.

“Uhhh, great, and what about you?”

“The same I guess,” you looked away while muttering your reply. You felt eyes on your back so you turned your head and saw Jake was staring at you. He had a similar look to Bradley’s at first. Confusion and the look of seeing a ghost. Then it morphed into something like regret and woe. This made you confused because when you broke it off, Jake seemed unbothered about it.

Now, the Jake standing before you felt like a stranger. His face used to make you feel so flustered and shy. His words lifted you to a pedestal from which no one could kick you. His body would bring you to completion every time you intertwined. And all of that went down the drain with the simple words, “Okay, let's break up.”

Maybe that was the pinprick you still felt, the moment when his unfeeling gaze looked into yours. The moment that made your year-long relationship seem like it was nothing, completely down the drain. In your hazy dreams, you can still feel those cold eyes. Those same eyes were now looking at you with an array of emotions.

“Is that you Kore?” Jake had staggered over and was now a few feet from you. He seemed like he didn’t know what to do with his hands. They were fidgeting before he shoved them into his pockets.

“Hello Jake,” is all you replied with, you kept your tone flat and even. You were searching everywhere for an escape. You thought you could handle seeing him again, but this was awful. Mentally deciding that you couldn’t come back to the Hard Deck ever again. Seeing a way to get out, you skirt past him and try to return to the parking lot. Jake softly stops you by grabbing your arm. His clutch is gentle but firm.

“Can we talk?” He asked quietly. This was a surprise to you because there was nothing quiet about Jake Seresin. If anything, he was a loud personality that let the world know what was on his mind most of the time—looking down at your feet trying to decide what to say. Biting your lip, you realize that maybe you need some more closure about you and him.

“Fine, you get ten minutes outside,” you say with a small huff.

“Thank you, Kore,” Jake finally had a smile on his face after seeing you.

You quickly weave yourself through the crowd and step out to the beach. You don’t even look behind to see if he is following because you can sense that he trailed after you immediately. Stepping out onto the sand, so you are away from the noise and prying eyes, you turn and face the man who made you rebuild yourself.

“Okay, Jake your ten minutes start now.”

“Kore, baby–”

“Do not call me that,” you cut him off briskly. “ You lost that right a long time ago.”

“Sorry,” he looked down at his feet. “Kore, I want to apologize to you for what I did and how I handled the end of our relationship. If I could go back and change what I did–”

“But you can’t, Jake. You made a choice the moment you decided to fall in bed with her,” you refuted with tears in your eyes. You had tried so hard to stay strong, but that pinprick in your heart had quickly become a gaping wound again that sang of pain and woes.

“You’re right, Kore, I made a decision but that doesn’t mean that I don’t regret it. I broke things off with Venus instantly when I realized she wasn’t you,” He laughed looking down. “No one could come close to you, Kore, you made my life feel real.”

You could see a shimmer in his eyes when he looked back up. A single tear rolled down his face. You almost wanted to laugh. Tears? You didn’t want to see tears, you wanted to finish this conversation and attempt to move on. This anger coursing through your veins was what made you move. You were done with him and his antics. “Do you think I would believe that? That I made everything better for you while you made everything horrible for me?”

“Kore please just lis–”

“No, I’m done listening Jake. You got ten minutes to talk and wasted it in the first five. Do you think by trying to convince me that we need each other to feel “alive”, I’ll come back crawling to you? No, I know now that I can't fix the flaws that tore apart our relationship.”

“What do you mean flaws, Kore?” he asked looking confused about why you deemed your relationship to have flaws. He thought that the relationship between you two was perfect.

“You can’t be serious, Jake. The fact that I had to be at every single event dealing with your job but never mine. Or how about the fact that you struggled to even show me your own emotions during our entire relationship? There are so many more fucking things I could point out, Jake!”

By the time you finished saying this, you were huffing for air. It felt like no matter how deep of a breath you took, the oxygen wasn’t reaching your lungs. The anger you felt was starting to fizzle out but you weren’t done. You still had more to say about the somewhat tragedy of your past relationship with Jake.

Jake stood there stunned, he had never seen you like this. Your anger was like a dagger to his heart, while the words you used twisted it deeper. Jake felt like there nothing would change your mind. The ache he feels in his bones will never go away and you wouldn’t be the relief he wanted you to be.

“Jake, it's time to let me go. We’re not good for each other, we’ll only be each other’s downfall. I don’t want that, Jake. I wanted to be more than just a footnote in your story, but I’ll never amount to that. So this is goodbye, Jake,” you lamented. You started to make your trek back to your car, and you could hear Jake begging you to come back.

“Kore! Please, Kore, come back. I was wrong for what I did. Please, baby, come back. I know I can do better this time. Kore!!!”

You kept ignoring all these little white lies he was giving you and continued slowly staggering back to the car. When you made it back to your car, you simply opened the door and sat down in the driver’s seat. Finally, the dam opened, and the tears flooded out. The tears that were waiting for this moment. You thought you were done crying over this man but you guess you were wrong. As the tears slid down your face, you looked over to see that Jake was still standing there. He looked like a statue, frozen by Medusa to be forever stuck in that position. Standing there and yearning for your embrace.

Maybe that was what you truly were to him, Medusa. A being cursed to never feel too connected to anyone. He made you feel like a villain that was his damnation. Yet, he tried to make you believe just now that you were his saving grace. What a hoax that was.

You put the key in the ignition and start your car. Pulling out of the parking lot and beginning your drive back home, the streaks on your face began to dry. You felt numb. This entire interaction was bittersweet, nothing good came out of it. Jake was the man who made you rebuild yourself, and now you are back at square one. Jake Seresin was a man who could never learn to be better. He was a man that was damned to be an Adonis that fooled you.

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Divider Credit: @cafekitsune

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aliciavance4228 · 2 days ago

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Pretending that Hades and Persephone never cheated on each other and erasing Adonis and Minthe is something, but portraying Adonis and Minthe in a negative light and turning them into some generic villains in order to show how pure and superior Hades and Persephone's marriage is makes me go buy a gun.

I can somehow understand that when it comes to Minthe, since we have this fragment where she's turned into the mint plant after boasting about how she's more beautiful than Persephone, and how Hades will soon get rid of her:

„Mintha, men say, was once a maid beneath the earth, a Nymphe of Kokytos, and she lay in the bed of Aidoneus; but when he raped the maid Persephone from the Aitnaian hill, then she complained loudly with overweening words and raved foolishly for jealousy, and Demeter in anger trampled upon her with her feet and destroyed her. For she had said that she was nobler of form and more excellent in beauty than dark-eyed Persephone and she boasted that Aidoneus would return to her and banish the other from his halls …” (Oppian, Halieutica)

However, I will still criticize 99,99% of the fanfictions and retellings where she appears, especially because in many of them a) Demeter is a toxic mother who asked Minthe to sleep with Hades in the hope that in this way her daughter will divorce him, despite the fact that in some versions she was literally the one who punished Minthe in order to protect her daughter's dignity and status as the Queen of the Underworld and b) she's usually the only one who's blamed for sleeping with a married man and Hades is still viewed as this innocent little being, as if it doesn’t take two to tango.

But demonizing Adonis? The guy who was groomed by almost every deity who found him handsome, including Persephone aka the one who raised him and was supposed to be only a mother figure to him? The character who's perceived as an object of desire rather than an actual human being and yet so many people fail to see the abusive undertones behind his relationships and still make Adonis x Aphrodite content? I've even seen fanfictions where the authors kept the part where he was raised by Persephone, but twist the sexual nature of their relationship and write Adonis as a jerk who finds himself worthy of sleeping with a goddess like Persephone, and Persephone as this loyal wife who would never cheat on her husband. Are you guys really willing to go that far to the point of giving Adonis an Oedipus Complex?!

Yes, this myth is already very disturbing, yet there's no need to ignore Adonis' abuse by pretending that he enjoyed it, or that he was the abuser all this time.

#greek mythology #greek gods #hades #persephone #adonis #minthe #ramblings

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brightdown00 · 8 days ago

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If You Want The Pop Culture Version of Hades x Persephone, Then You Want Eros x Psyche

Overprotective and overbearing mother who hates your significant other? Aphrodite is the mother-in-law from Tartarus!

No abduction? Psyche goes to where Eros is, he didn't kidnap her.

No sexual assault? Eros, even after literally stabbing himself with one of his arrows, still never tries to do anything without her consent.

No incest? Eros and Psyche are not even related, which is almost unheard of for this pantheon.

The heroine being badass? Psyche goes through numerous trials set by Aphrodite to show that she's worthy of being with her son, and wins them all! She got a little help, of course, since she was still mortal, but she still made it!

The heroine being taken care of by the hero? Everything Psyche needed, she got when she lived with Eros (including sex).

Love at first sight and blind trust? When Eros is sent by his mother to make Psyche's life hell, he was so distracted by her beauty that he accidentally stabbed himself with one of his arrows. When Psyche started living with Eros, the one condition was that she could not see him, ever. He was literally invisible. Yet, Psyche fell in love, anyway, without even knowing what he looked like! She probably didn't even know his name. When she accidentally stabbed herself with one of his arrows, she fell in love twice.

People not approving of their relationship? Aphrodite is the mother-in-law from Tartarus.

A couple fighting to be together? Guess what the second half of the myth is about?

The hero is staggeringly powerful and the heroine isn't? Psyche is a mortal princess, Eros is the God of Boners in a mythology where Zeus' inability to control his dick is the inciting incident of 80% of the canon. Eros has Zeus' number and yanks on his chain every other week.

Oh, and if you truly cannot live without the Queen of the Underworld ... she makes a cameo appearance, in which she tries to assassinate Aphrodite over Adonis!

So, hey, can we stop romanticizing the Hades x Persephone myth and instead romanticize the Eros x Psyche myth?

#greek mythology #cupid and psyche #hellenism #aphrodite

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litcest · 1 year ago

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Myrrha and Cinyras

Perhaps you have heard of Adonis, lover to Aphrodite and Persephone, the most beautiful man in the Classical Antiquity. What you may not have know is that Adonis is the fruit of a incestuous relationship between Myrrha (also called Smyrna in some texts) and her father Cinyras (other times names Theias).

The most well known version of the myth comes from Ovid's Metamorphoses, published in 8 CE, but the myth is older than that, and other variants of it survive to this day. For the Metamorphoses, I'll be using Brookes More's translation from 1922, with the revisions from 1978.

Metamorphoses, by Ovid

The poem about Myrrha can be found in Book X, starting in line 298, under the title Myrrha Transformed to a Tree. It consists of Orpheus telling an audience of the origin of the myrrh tree.

Myrrha had her pick among suitors, but who she really wanted was her father, Cinyras, King of Cyprus. She knows that her desire is wrong, although she also knows that it's not technicaly a crime:

"Ah, may the sacred rights of parents keep this vile desire from me, defend me from a crime so great—If it indeed is crime. I am not sure it is— I have not heard that any god or written law condemns the union of a parent and his child."

And complains she wasn't born in a land where mothers and son, as well as fathers and daughters, can get together:

"But it is said there are some tribes today, in which the mother marries her own son; the daughter takes her father; and by this, the love kind Nature gives them is increased into a double bond. Ah wretched me! Why was it not my fortune to be born in that love-blessed land?"

Cinryas comes to asks Myrrha which of the suitors she wants to marry and she cries in her father's arms, saying that she wants a husband like him, to which he replies that she's a loving daughter. That night, knowing she would have to a pick a husband soon, Myrrha decides that, since she can't wed her father, it's better to hang herself.

As she prepares to do so, a maid enters and room and stops her. The maid asks what's upsetting Myrrha, and, at first, she refuses to answer. Eventually, Myrrha confesses her love for Cinryas and the maid promises to help.

Luckly for Myrrha, her mother is away celebrating the festival of Ceres (Demeter), so Cinryas is drunk and alone. The maid tells him that a beautiful girl is interested in being his mistress and, furthermore, she's Myrrha's age. Cinryas gets interested and tells the maid to bring in the girl. Even thought she felt great guilt, that night Myrrha goes to her father's bedroom.

Officially, it's said that Cinryas doesn't recognizes Myrrha, but I call that bullshit. He must have wanted his daughter in some level, as I believe he had accepted this girl only because she was Myrrha's age. And he then he goes on to call the 'unknown girl' "daughter"? As if he's roleplaying her being Myrrha.

He chanced to call her “daughter,” as a name best suited to her age; and she in turn, endearing, called him “father”, so no names might be omitted to complete their guilt.

She returns to Cinryas room many nights, and they always have sex in the dark, until one day Cinryas decides to light the room and see the face of his new mistress. In shock, he learns that it's Myrrha he has been sleeping with. This reminds me of Eros and Psyche, when Psyche hides a candle so she can see her husband and then tragedy ensues.

Upon seeing Myrrha, Cinryas gets his sword and tries to kill her, but she runs. For nine months she wanders the land while pregnant, until she's too tired and begs the gods to help her. They anwser by transforming her into a myrrh tree.

The baby she conceived with her father is birthed from her tree form with the help of the goddess of childbirth and grows to become a beautiful man, handsome enough to win the love of Venus (Aphrodite), which is a poem of it's own.

"That son of sister and grandfather, who was lately hidden in his parent tree, just lately born, a lovely baby-boy is now a youth, now man more beautiful than during growth."

So this thing about incest-babies being always 'deformed' and 'retarded' is a modern invention. These ancient stories have the offspring of incestuous unions as being beautiful enough to marry a King or a Goddess and strong and wise enough to become a leader themselves.

Fabulae, by Hyginus

Another ancient collection of tales, the Fabulae by Hyginus, written circa 1 CE (before Metamorphoses) gives a similar account to the previous one in the Chapter 58:

Smyrna was the daughter of Cinyras, King of the Assyrians, and Cenchreis. Her mother Cenchreis boasted proudly that her daughter excelled Venus in beauty. Venus, to punish the mother, sent forbidden love to Smyrna so that she loved her own father. The nurse prevented her from hanging herself, and without knowledge of her father, helped her lie with him. She conceived, and goaded by shame, in order not to reveal her fault, hid in the woods. Venus later pitied her, and changed her into a kind of tree from which myrrh flows; Adonis, born from it, exacted punishment for his mother's sake from Venus.

Chapter 242 of the same book says that Cinyras killed himself once he discovered he laid with his daughter.

Bibliotheca, by Apollodorus

Bibliotheca of Pseudo-Apollodorus, written around 1st century CE, is a collection of Greek poems and stories, and it was attributed to Apollodorus, until they realized it hadn't been him to write it and so it became Pseudo-Apollodorus. But anyway, I bring up this texts because it offers three possible origins for Adonis in Book III, chapter XIV. Two of them are not relevant for us, but the third one is. Using Panyasis as his source, Pseudo-Apollodorus, says that Adonis was the son of Thias, King of Assyria, and his daughter, Smyrna.

In consequence of the wrath of Aphrodite, for she did not honor the goddess, this Smyrna conceived a passion for her father, and with the complicity of her nurse she shared her father's bed without his knowledge for twelve nights. But when he was aware of it, he drew his sword and pursued her, and being overtaken she prayed to the gods that she might be invisible; so the gods in compassion turned her into the tree which they call smyrna (myrrh).

Metamorphoses, by Antoninus Liberalis

Written between 2nd and 3rd century CE, its the most recent among these selected texts. This account is very similar to the others, with the major difference being that Thias never tries to kill Smyrna. Here, their affair lasts months and when he shines the light on her, she gives birth in shock of being found out. She's then transformed into a tree by Zeus and Thias kills himself.

#father x daughter #parent x child #shipcest #greek mythology #proship #filicest #mythology review #metamorphoses #ovid #Fabulae #Hyginus

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