#f to hades

[bitty-bytes]

"Your boyfriend is evil!" "Your boyfriend is cruel and horrifying!" Well, he's a joy to me. Maybe it's a you problem.

[cactusradish]

I'm- Unwell...

I legit looked this screenshot for 5 minutes straight with my jaw ON THE FLOOR. IT'S SO BEAUTIFUL.

[thereinart]

Just got my art Ai stolen... I have been such a forking fool not to protect it better. it won't happen again.

Please if you see this going around, it's Ai stolen from my arachne piece (on the right)

May it all burn to hell, that piece took me days to make. I feel spat upon.

[kav3h]

is this too niche? svsss hadestown au starring 79

[bones4thecats]

Hello, can do resquest, Poseidon, Hades, Loki and Thor x Valkyrie reader, who is the mother of all Valkyries, This is what it looks like, https://es.pinterest.com/pin/890657263798502008/

❥· Nurture vs. Nature, Multi-RoR × F! S/O

Characters: Poseidon (🔱), Hades (💀), Loki (🐍), and Thor (🌩️) A/N: This is another favorite of mine. I love this thing so much, and I hope you like it as well, @zinnia1506! ✎ Summary: After the loss of your adoptive son, Zerofuku, you made your thirteen daughters, whom were named after your title of the 13 Valkyrie Sisters. But, after the setting of Ragnarok, your relationship molds over with hatred with your oldest.

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Looking at the sky with an empty expression, you took each breath in slowly. You felt empty, incomplete, someone would say. But, in reality, you felt normal. This was your normal.

Each cloud moved by with each passing second. While other Gods and Goddesses would see this as useless, this was the only thing you wanted to do for your pass-time. It was quiet, peaceful.

Small footsteps behind you made your eyes open, there, standing behind you, was the young God you were in charge of watching. "Zero. Do show me, how would you draw that flower?" You asked. The young, child-like god, smiled and grabbed some nearby flowers, using them like crayons on the paper you summoned for him.

"This is how you do it, Lady Valkyrie!" He joyfully said. You watched as he used the flowers to color the pink petals, before searching for a green item for the stem and leaves. As he ran around, your eyes shimmered. For some reason, being around Zerofuku made your life feel more welcoming, open even.

Before you knew it, Zerofuku handed you the paper. You took it in your hands gently and looked over his work. Every detail was there, which surprised you. The way he highlighted the sun's rays hitting the petals to the shadows cast in opposition made your eyes widen slightly.

You breathed out and smiled gently, though it was covered by your mask. Zeroufku felt your mood lighten and he began to shake in happiness himself. "Do you like it?" He asked. "Of course. You did a wondrous job on it, child."

"Thank you!" He replied. "Would you like it back? I'm sure it would be a lovely addition in your home." You said. Zerofuku looked at you and shook his head, pushing the drawing back into your chest. "No. Go ahead and keep it! Besides, you seem to like it more than I do!"

That was when you knew it. You wanted to feel this all the time. So, you began babysitting Zerofuku more and more. But, you regretted the one day you didn't. That was the day he went to Earth and never returned.

Tears fell from your eyes as you sobbed at the same spot as you were that day. You never wanted this feeling again... you needed to find a way around this...

-

🔱 You looked at the aquatic animals swimming around. The blow-fish looked at your finger, following it as you lightly drug it across the glass keeping you separated. Poseidon observed you from behind, his trident on the ground as you observed the fish.

🔱 Poseidon sighed internally and walked up to you, and, once you heard the sound of his weapon, your branch-shaped hair moved slightly, much like the ears of an animal. You turned around and looked into the blue eyes of your husband.

🔱 "What did Zeus do this time?" You asked. He shook his head, "This was not Zeus' doing. Rather, it was your oldest, Brunhilde's." You froze, eyebrows furrowing as you questioned what he meant. After all, Brunhilde didn't speak out against the Gods that often. It was always with you when she did it.

🔱 "She declared Ragnarok. Zeus accepted and is currently scrolling through the nominees for the Gods' Team." He replied, eyes watching the octopus Göll, your youngest, affectionately named Ink. "She opposed the Gods and is fighting for Humanity, isn't she?"

🔱 "Yes." He said. Your eyes went to the floor. This was not something you wanted to happen. For years, you raised those girls to help the Gods. NOT help the humans. The humans that tore your once-beloved son from you.

🔱 "I would like to fight." Poseidon's eyes widened slightly, looking down at you with his grip tightening on his trident. "No. I will not allow it."

🔱 "Poseidon, it is my choice. I'm not fighting for the honor of the others, but for the honor of my son." You said, eyes darkening in anger. "Zeus already asked me to fight in Ragnarok. I will be taking your place. No matter the outcome, the girls will need you. Our boys will need you." He said, motioning to your five sons, Polyphemus, Triton, Orion, Theseus, and Aeolus, running around happily, unaware of the chat between their parents.

🔱 You looked back to the ground, sorrow filling your form. In the action of making your thirteen daughters out of enchanted clay, you wanted to feel the love you felt for Zerofuku, but, Brunhilde threw that away. Like a rag used up.

🔱 Just as Poseidon began walking away to grab your sons to bring inside, you grabbed his loincloth-like fabric around his waist and said, "Please. Just, don't hurt any of the girls." He looked into your eyes, blue into blue, and blinked.

🔱 "Alright." He said, leaning in and kissing your head, in a way to comfort you in this mind-racing time. "The boys and I will be inside soon."

-

💀 Your husband sat beside you in your bedroom. Tears were falling from your eyes silently. That day was horrible. You declared you weren't going to speak to your daughters until Ragnarok was over, saying you needed time to even out your situation during the battle. Hades, your husband, patted your back through everything.

💀 A letter had been delivered by Hermes to you from Brunhilde. In this letter, she declared she, and her sisters -- your other daughters -- would be performing Völundr with their assigned human fighters. You were in distress, you already lost your son, how could you lose your daughters too?!

💀 Hades leaned his head on yours, silently helping you. He could hear the first round of Ragnarok playing in the background on your holographic-television. It was when it was over, that you both heard the announcement of Lü Bu, the first human fighter, dying.

💀 The God of the Underworld's eyes widened in surprise, not at the fact that the human died, but at the fact that one of his step-daughters, that he loved just as much as you did, sacrificed herself for humanity. Were they really that amazing?

💀 "No... Randgriz... my baby..." You sobbed harder now, tears falling heavily as your hands covered your eyes. Hades' eyes began to water now. Randgriz was one of his favorite step-daughters. He loved the light and love she brought to the Underworld, to his life, and the way that she cared for everyone, no exceptions.

💀 A knock on the door alerted you, but, you made no effort to move. Hades, who wasn't crying nearly as hard as you were, stood up and answered. "Who is it?" He asked.

💀 "Papa?" A little voice said. Looking down, there stood your youngest child, Zagreus. He looked up with tears threatening to fall down his cheeks. "Is Randgriz okay?"

💀 You ran up to Zagreus, and enveloped him in a hug. Zagreus, who was surprisingly smart for a child of his age, hugged you back, understanding what was happening now.

💀 Hades frowned and kneeled in front of your both, wrapped his arms around you two and began to cry. Your sniffs pained him, as did his son's. You made those girls to help with your emotions, to keep your happiness around. Yet, you neglected the thought of losing them like how you did Zerofuku. You protected them for years, and, despite all your effort, you were losing them all over again.

-

🐍 Loki knew your daughters well. He was around, what a human would say 20s, in age when they were sculpted by your hands by enchanted clay. You asked if he could watch over them for years when you were busy, and he did so pretty well. Sometimes, it felt like your daughters were babysitting him though.

🐍 You observed as Loki played with your three children, your daughter, Hel, and your two sons, Fenrir and Jörmungandr. Loki danced around them, Fenrir shapeshifted into his single form; a large wolf, while your other son became his only form; a large serpent. Hel just wrapped her arms around her father's neck as he flew around, playing tag with them.

🐍 "Come on, Dad! You're going to high up!" Fenrir called. Loki merely laughed and told them to try harder in catching him. Jörmungandr looked at you and silently asked for help. You smiled gently and called for your husband, making him freeze and call back to you.

🐍 Just then, your sons tackled Loki, making him yell and fall down to the ground. "Gotcha!" The boy-turned-serpent yelled. You kept a smile up, but it vanished when you heard your husband's name being called from behind you.

🐍 Loki looked up and put his daughter on the ground next to her brothers. "Let me guess, little old me is up next?" He asked Thor, who was tasked by his father, Odin, to retrieve his cousin. "Yes."

🐍 Thor looked at you and nodded back to you after you motioned for him to take your three kids away. They happily jumped with Thor, on their way to sit with their Grandpa and their Uncle. You then looked at Loki and then down at the ground, asking him if he was sure about doing this. "After all," you added, "Poseidon, Heracles, Hajun, Hades, hell, even Susano'o No Mikoto now... what if you're next?"

🐍 "Love. I know you lost five of the girls, but, believe me when I say this: I will make sure I get back to you, and... hopefully keep whatever Valkyrie chosen alive." He said, his hands holding your face as he stares into your eyes.

🐍 "I'll come back." He said. "I love you."

🐍 You smiled and kissed him, he hummed happily before taking your hand and walking with you back to his room to get ready for his round.

-

🌩️ Thor cared for your daughters. He was someone you cared for deeply, and, since he wasn't biologically related to them, it comforted you that he still put effort into acting like a father. Your emotions actually came out with him, and it did make your girls proud when you married Thor and not someone like Zeus.

🌩️ You've been married for years, and for those years, he and you parented Móði and Magni, your twin boys. As you raised your two biological children, Brunhilde began to separate herself from you, leaving you feeling a hole again. And, with no other ideas, you tried to connect with her again, only to be shocked when she told you she didn't want contact again.

🌩️ Odin told you it was most likely due to 'teenage-angst', but, after hearing she proposed Ragnarok, you were heartbroken once again. You looked at her, and, when she eyes connected with yours coldly, you leaned your head onto Thor's shoulder.

🌩️ You stayed with Thor the entire time, only being away from him due to the first round. And, after it was over, you tried talking to Brunhilde, only for her to ask if you were happy with yourself.

🌩️ "What are you talking about, Brunhilde?" You replied. "You know what I'm talking about! Your husband! He just killed your own daughter! How can you pick him over us?!"

🌩️ "I'm not picking him over you, 'Hilde! Do I have to spell it out?! I made you all because I wanted you guys! I wanted children to call my own!" She scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right. We're nothing but animated clay to you. You were never, and will never be my mother."

🌩️ Your eyes widened in shock as Brunhilde walked away. Shock was all you felt. After everything you gave her; your time, your care, you love, and she just says it was all nothing to you. Your boys just stood beside you, also shocked. You were an excellent mom, they've seen the photos and videos of you raising your girls. Why was she hating you so much?

🌩️ "Fine... have a good rest of the tournament, Brunhilde." You said, walking away with your boys trailing you. Thor, who was watching from behind a nearby pillar, was upset. He saw you care for Brunhilde and your daughters, you just struggled expressing emotions when it comes to loss. How does she not, in her millions of life with you, understand that?

🌩️ "Brunhilde." He said, causing the eldest Valkyrie to turn around and look at her step-father. "What?" She replied. "You've wanted to know why your mother made you, correct?"

🌩️ "Yes."

🌩️ "I think it's time I tell you."

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[disneyvillainsdaily]

Jafar's evil laughter vs Hades and yes those are the respective original VAs

Hercules: The Animated Series (1998-1999)

[alabasterpickles]

So, listen I’ve had this drawing in my files since I saw Mutant Mayhem in theaters and I love it but I never got the chance to finish anything up due to starting school back up this semester

So

Here you go

[spearminthe]

sometimes you autistically check out mid conversation and have to contemplate just how you ended up becoming best friends with both a kity and an ouppy ........ peace and love forever in da underworld .........

[thereoncewasagirlnamedjane]

OF ALL THE WAYS TO DIE.

PAIRING — hades!bucky barnes x human f!reader

CONTENTS — oneshot; alternate universe—ambiguous time period; inspired by greek mythology; inspired by the book thief; bittersweet ending; life and death; major character death; angst; fluff.

SUMMARY — A sparkling river you are forbidden to cross. An old wooden boat you are forbidden to ride. A mysterious man you can already feel you are forbidden to love. You do it all anyway.

WORD COUNT — 4.2k

✩ masterlist ✩ library blog

ACT I: A River Enchanted

It is a fact that all things die eventually. Ah, please do not fret. You are the ones who haunt Death, after all.

Fortunately for you, it is very rarely the other way around.

I heard her before I saw her.

With each careful and almost hesitant step, her growing shadow slowly hid me from the warm late-summer sun.

And as I opened my eyes, my thoughts weren't that she was beautiful.

As I began to know her, they weren't that she was uncommonly lovely.

As I grew to love her, they weren't that she was somehow exactly how I imagined, the human I was destined to love singularly, a destiny shown to me by the Fates even though it was against the rules.

(But what care do the damned have for the rules, anyway?)

My thoughts were that she would die one day.

It's the world's natural order. It's the reason I exist. For thousands of years now, I have been charged to sit in judgment of what makes humans... well, human.

You are punished. You are rewarded. Either banished to darkness or bathed in light. And those decisions fall on my shoulders.

Even her, one day, no matter how hard I wished to prolong the inevitable.

Those are the thoughts that make me want to die sometimes.

But, in defiance of all the laws of nature, I cannot.

“Who are you?” You ask, clutching the straps of the straw-woven basket you wear on your back. 

He lies in the tall grass, parallel to a mysterious river. He has the fingers of his right hand closed around the stems of a few delicate white and purple flowers, looking like he’d been taking a nap. 

Or, rather, a little bit like your parents had right before they were lowered into the ground. 

Confused, you tilt your head slightly as you stare at him. The river, the boat floating atop its peaceful waters, and the flowers were not here when you came yesterday. 

Still, he doesn’t answer your question. He merely raises his free arm to fold it behind his head, closing his eyes once more and seemingly returning to sleep. 

Despite his dark robes, he seems to glow in the light of the yellow sun. You have a hard time believing he is even of this world. 

“Do you make a habit of watching people sleep?” He muses without opening his eyes. 

This time, it is your turn to ignore him. You turn on your heels, stepping back towards the edge of the clearing to check on the herbs and flowers growing there. You pluck a few plants from the dirt and toss them over your shoulder into your basket. 

He doesn’t speak but neither do you, even though you’ve got a sneaking suspicion that he’s not actually asleep. 

Your parents’ deaths had left you orphaned but not necessarily alone. The other villagers look out for you whenever they can, no matter how difficult times may be in this area, and everyone is always kind. 

Sometimes, however, kindness can be stifling. 

You smile to pretend like you aren’t lonely, like your cheeks aren’t stained with tears at night, like you don’t mind that it feels as though your life will never be quite as full now that your family has gone. 

This is your secret spot, where you go to let the sounds of nature, the songbirds’ sharp symphonies, just take away all the thoughts that steal the sleep from your grasp at night. 

It happens so gradually that it’s almost as if the clouds are passing over the sun. You are slowly engulfed in the darkness of a tall shadow and when you look up, he is looming over you, peering down into your basket. 

You didn’t even hear him get up. 

“Tea?” He asks, referring to the calendula flowers and mint leaves you’ve picked. You look away, cheeks warming, feeling oddly self-conscious all of a sudden as you nod your response wordlessly. 

He bends down, his face hovering right over your shoulder, and reaches out a hand to point at a nearby shrub of red fruit. “Try the rose hips.” 

You can see him out of the corner of your eye. He turns his head slightly to look at you, to make sure you’re paying attention. You don’t look back at him, but you follow his lead, wrapping your fingers around one of the fruit, squeezing a little to check for firmness. 

You pluck it from the bushes. You inspect it carefully, free hand already reaching for another. Even though you haven’t spoken, he can smell the berries in the air around you. 

“They make a nice jam, too.” 

You frown. His voice sounds impossibly far away. When you turn to look at him over your shoulder, you find yourself alone in the clearing with only the softly howling wind for company. 

The river and flowers are gone, and so is he. 

Like he had never been there at all. 

ACT II: A God’s Whimsy

Even if I couldn’t show her the colour of my own heart, I tried to tell her many times she was loved. 

The proof was in the pain she lived.

The resilience of the human spirit never ceases to astound me.

Somehow, there is still happiness to be found in the most terrible of sufferings. 

No matter what the Fates foresee, even though you are walking on a road of broken glass, you soldier on. Walking. Grasping. Hoping. 

You all shine so bright, like the sun and like the stars. It hurts my eyes, your golden-coloured hearts. 

And yet I am incapable of turning away. 

Did I ever shine the same way?

I mean, back when I was human like you? 

They call me a god now, but you are the ones I envy. 

But after that day, you start seeing him quite often whenever you venture into these parts. He’s always doing the same thing, napping among a field of apparently imaginary flowers. The same old wooden boat is docked at the riverbank, always unmoving and silent. 

You haven’t told anyone about him, lest they warn you against consorting with strange men. Lest they think you’ve lost your mind in the grief. 

Also, a part of you wonders if he himself is imaginary, too. But rather than being scared, you like the idea that he exists only in your mind. That, even for a brief moment, something out there is just yours. 

It takes a few more encounters before he reluctantly tells you his name. 

“What kind of name is Bucky?” You ask impulsively. You wince. You don’t mean it the way it sounds. 

He tells you more out of annoyance than anything else; you had been quite incessant. Still are, you suppose. It’s been a long time since anyone’s really given you the time of day, after all. 

You are eager for acknowledgement. 

“Well, that’s rude.” He says, but he doesn’t look very offended. In fact, he never looks anything at all. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“You don’t look very sorry.” And then he leans closer to examine your features, as if he’s genuinely curious, as if he’s not the one who often wears an indecipherable mask. 

Your basket full of aromatic herbs and fragrant flowers sits abandoned at the edge of the clearing. The vibrant red rose hips sit on the very top of your loot, having made its way into your regular rotation after that first day. 

He is once again lying in the grass. These days, though, you sit much closer to him. 

“Why is the river only here when you are?” You ask, despite knowing how utterly stupid it sounds. 

“Don’t be silly,” he says in that tone of voice that used to frustrate you, like he knows so much more than he will ever tell you. “How can an entire river just disappear?” 

The tone doesn’t bother you much anymore. You’re used to it now and there is a strange comfort in that. It’s been a long time since you’ve known anyone long enough to get used to anything. 

“It does, though.” You reach out a hand to skim your fingers along the water’s surface, but he is suddenly closing around your wrist. He is such an enigma; he often moves without being seen or heard. 

“Be careful, will you?” He warns before letting you go. “Don’t touch it.” 

“Why not?” But he fails to elaborate. In a moment of frustration, you turn and pull a handful of grass from the earth to throw it at him. It simply falls harmlessly over his face. 

“The sun is setting. You should go home.” 

“I don’t want to.” You cringe after you say it, hating the way it makes you sound like a spoiled child. 

“Why not?” It seems you both take turns asking each other questions that go unanswered, because you turn away from him and keep your lips pressed together. 

Sometimes, his brows furrow in mild irritation while you speak, but you have a feeling it’s not because he dislikes it when you do. In fact, it seems to unsettle him when you fall silent. You have a feeling he can practically see all the grey and dreary thoughts swirling around in your head. 

“Will you walk with me?” You ask hopefully, although you don’t look away from the river. Are you hoping that maybe, if the other villagers saw you with a friend, they would stop looking at you with such pity and sadness? 

“I can’t,” he responds. For a moment you might think he sounds almost regretful. “I have to leave.” 

“Where do you live?” You call him your friend, although never out loud and only to yourself in the safety of your own mind, but you don’t know much about him. In fact, it dawns on you that you know nothing at all. 

“Somewhere you cannot go, I’m afraid.” 

“Wha—” Your face warms. “I didn’t want to, anyway!” You retort stubborn, turning around to face him. He’s sitting up in the grass now, staring back at you with eyes you can never quite interpret. “Honestly, Bucky, what a way to speak to a lady.” 

Sometimes, you think he might be making fun of you. Sometimes, there’s a twinkle in his eyes, despite the inscrutable look on his face. You think you might see the subtle signs of a smile, but it’s either gone before you can even properly catch it or it’s so faint you’re always tricked into thinking you’ve imagined it. 

But you think you see hints of it now, that elusive smile of his. You’d like very much to know how it might look on him. Do the corners of his eyes crinkle when he does? How would those unworldly eyes of his sparkle if you, of all people, could ever make him laugh? Would the sound of his laughter rival the musical notes of summer? 

“My. What was I thinking, indeed,” he says, his voice laced with humour even though his features remain impassive. “I do apologize, m’lady.” 

Your cheeks heat up to the point where you’re sure even the sun is no match. You stand abruptly, turning on your heels to retrieve your basket, heart hammering so loudly you are certain he can hear it. You struggle with the desire to run away, to run toward him, all at the same time. 

“I’m going home,” you announce, almost as if you need the push. Some verbal encouragement. “Try not to take it too hard if I get carried off by coyotes or something.” 

“You’ll be fine.” It sounds like he’s smiling. You try not to look too eager as you toss one last look at him over your shoulder. Even though you hadn’t heard him move, he is already in that boat and halfway across the river. 

Even so, you hear him still, as if his voice travels with the wind. 

“What a silly girl you are.” 

ACT III: Of All the Ways to Die

You blame me for all the beauty that leaves your world, for the reason your love has nowhere left to go. I promise not to take this personally.

You are correct, after all.

Because a very long time ago, I was a soldier. 

A very long time ago, they changed me. 

A very long time ago, the Underworld was full of anguished souls only because I sent them there with my own two hands. 

The story goes that my brother tricked me, so that he could rule the skies while I languished in the land of the dead. 

But the truth is, he tried to stop me. The god who was once known as Steve is still, after all these years, incapable of such wicked conspiracy, after all. 

The truth is, I volunteered. 

Because even before I became what I am now, death followed me wherever I went. 

Who better to sympathize with the dearly departed than the Winter Soldier? The one responsible for so much slaughter and so much destruction? 

And unfortunately for me, the Lord of the Dead must keep his heart.

So many years and so many souls. I remember every single one.

Would you believe me when I say that all of them cross the River in my arms? 

I made a vow to carry you all.

And because the first time she died, I blamed myself too.

The next time you go to your secret meeting place, something strange happens: the river is there but he isn’t. 

You stand at the edge of the riverbank, peering into the eerily still crystal clear waters. You look past your own reflection, seeing right down to the bottom. There are no fish, there are no plants, there are zero signs of life. 

He isn’t here this time to remind you not to touch it. The sun beams relentlessly down on you, making the water look all the more enticing. The hidden cicadas in the nearby trees seem to spur you on, their hums growing louder and louder and louder as you reach out your hand. 

The moment your fingertips dip into the water, something hauls you forward. You don’t even have the time to scream before you fall in with a splash, breath stolen from your lungs, eyes closing out of reflex. 

Your clothes, now heavy with water, weigh you down despite how hard you kick your legs against the current, one that had been invisible to the eye while you were on the surface. 

You open your eyes and it’s chaos. 

It’s calamity. 

A ghostly-looking woman has her bony fingers around your wrist. Her mouth is open in a silent scream, but you hear it anyhow over the rush of the waves. Ghoulish. Terrible. Echoing. 

You try to pull yourself from her grip, but she seems determined to drag you down with her—to where, you still aren’t sure. You look around, the previously clear river now murky with creatures you can’t quite name. 

They look just like you. Like they are human. But something tells you they are not. At least, not anymore. 

More hands claw at you, your head now full of thoughts and voices that aren’t your own. You struggle, but all you do is take in more water, your lungs burning for air. 

Let me out! I beg of you! I repent! I confess my sins!

Let this girl take my place!

A soul for a soul.

Everything slows. Your eyelids grow heavy. 

How is it possible to drown in a river that doesn’t exist? Will you ever be found? Will Bucky ever show up in the field of flowers and wonder where you are? Will he ever miss you? 

Lord Hades! Please have mercy! Won’t you please have mercy?!

A hand reaches into the water. Your eyes close. 

The world goes dark. 

ACT IV: We All Mourn the Dead

Funny how I am feared by most in existence, yet she, as small and as fleeting as she was, struck fear in my own heart.

Thoughts like, what if she discovers who I really am?

I have been invisible to you humans for so long. What if she doesn’t like what she sees? 

I wondered, as she sat next to me in that field of green so many times, when the time for her to see up close and personal what it is I do, will she loathe me a little less or a little more? 

“I don’t loathe you,” she would say on the day of her judgment. 

But you see, she had once, in the name of her parents. 

You all do, in the name of those you love. 

I am tasked to see your kind at your best and at your worst, but you must rest assured that it is never one or the other. Somehow, every last one of you always manages to be both.

Strange how it is only after I lost my own humanity that I find myself understanding the delicate paradoxes of life a little better. 

Ugly and beautiful. Good and evil. Frightening and comforting. 

I wonder if that brings you any comfort. It does to me.

I sent her to the field of swaying flowers, where she is allowed to watch the golden sun lower below the horizon for the rest of time—where there is no pain, no sorrow, no time, and no longing.

No, those shall always be my burdens to bear. 

For her now, there is only beauty and tenderness. Peace.

It is the same place I had sent her parents. They may not remember each other there, but at least they are together again.

When hers was the soul I looked into, while I saw all the same flaws and imperfections of her fellow man, I couldn’t help but think that all of it was good. 

I have searched and searched, but never again found another soul quite like hers. 

And then I am reminded that this is what it means to love. 

When you come to, you feel yourself lying on something hard, unlike the soft patch of grass you’re used to. Squinting against the bright rays of the sun, you raise your hand to block them out. 

Someone moves to do it for you. 

Upon recognizing the face looming above you, eyes the colour of the cloudless sky, you try to speak but you sputter and choke, coughing up more water. 

“Silly girl,” he hisses, sounding angry and desperate. When your vision comes back into focus, his eyes are blazing. He scolds you like one would an unruly child. “You’ve been told not to touch the water. What were you trying to do?” 

You prop yourself up on your elbow, looking around to see that you’re in the boat. His boat. His hand is on your back, fingers spread, warm to the touch even though the material of your dress. But even so, you can’t stop shivering. 

He is missing an arm. 

Your friend glares into the previously disturbed waters, the fingers of his remaining hand tightening over the edge of the boat. 

This is why the ferryman normally responsible for this vessel warns him that their kind should never cross the River for such arbitrary reasons. It is why those who live in the realm of the dead must stay there. 

By now, he should know that humans are curious by nature. 

They are unable to let the mysterious go unexplained. 

They seek knowledge. 

They crave love. 

And it seems that the Lord of the Underworld has grown curious himself. A curiosity that almost cost an innocent human her life long before her time. Such an event would have greatly upset the balance of the universe, not to mention the Fates themselves. 

He shudders. He loathes to think what they might do to him if they knew, if they haven’t found out already.

“What happened?” You ask, hand ghosting over where his left arm used to be. 

The souls sentenced to an eternal drowning in the River refused to return you without a price, to be paid by the one who put them there. How devious. 

A fee must be paid, after all, when crossing the River Styx. He supposes it has been rather hypocritical of him to have done otherwise all this time. 

Very well. 

He steeled himself before reaching into the water, unflinching when they took his arm, his eyes focused solely on you. At the very least, they stayed true to their word. 

They passed you along until you were floating towards the surface, the moment you came close enough he curled his other arm around you to pull you free. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. 

It was not a difficult decision to make. 

Besides, it was not the first time he had ever lost an arm. 

“It was not your time.” He brushes a lock of still-wet hair from your face, his fingers tracing invisible lines against your cheek. 

And yet you are on the wrong side of the River. 

On this side, the flowers still grow, the trees are still vibrant with coloured leaves, and the waters are still motionless. But somehow, everything is different. 

Because while the sun still glows just above the horizon, there is no warmth. There are no sounds. No singing birds. No buzzing cicadas. No chirping crickets. Here, everything is dead silent. 

Or perhaps just dead. 

Except for you. 

“Who are you, really?” You ask, everything absolutely still as you sit up. The River has gone back to being strangely tranquil, not even a ripple or a single wave to be seen or heard. The things you had just seen in there are once more invisible to your human eyes. 

“How strange. You humans really do enjoy asking questions you already know the answer to.” His eyes soften, his remaining arm still wrapped around you as he pulls you forward, allowing you to seek warmth against his chest. 

Your first impression of him was right after all. He is not of this world, never has been. 

They called him Lord Hades. 

The guardian of souls. Ruler of the Underworld. 

You already know, but you pull away to look at him and say, “Tell me.” 

“I’ve caught quite the daring little water nymph, haven’t I?” You suppose it is daring for a mere mortal like yourself to demand the name of a god. 

But you aren’t imagining it this time. There is a tiny hint of a smile there, one corner of his lips curving up ever so slightly, so faint that it is barely noticeable. 

You notice. 

“I’m not dead yet, then?” You ask. The Underworld isn’t quite like you imagined. It is much more beautiful than the myths and bedtime stories had told. 

“No. Shall I congratulate you on being the first still-living being to step foot into the land of the dead?” He knows he shouldn’t, but he steps out of the boat and extends his hand towards you. “Come and walk with me.” 

You comply. For hands so small, it seems you hold the entire world in your palms. He clutches them in his one larger one, his whispering breath caressing your forehead, your cheeks, and your lips, as he assures you the loss of one limb is nothing. 

He wipes your river of tears away. He replaces them with streams of gentle kisses, his lips plush and soft against your skin. 

He assures you it is nothing compared to how long he must wait to see you again. He knows he must never reveal the River to you anymore, not until your time has come. It is what he must do to protect you, to protect all of you. 

After today, he won’t see you again for a while. A human life is normally but a blink of an eye for him, but this time, he already knows time will pass slowly. 

And even when he does see you again, the reunion shall not last long. 

When the time for separation has come, he takes you back across the water. He drops you off at the embankment, pulls out a flower from inside the folds of his robes and tucks it behind your ear. 

He tells you to look away as he leaves you. He tells you not to look back. Of course, you listen. 

The portal between worlds close. 

His arm wasn’t the price for crossing the river. He returns to the Underworld missing his heart.

This is the beginning of what will feel like an endless longing.

This is the price he pays for crossing the river. 

For loving a human. For loving you.

THE FINAL ACT: A Field of Swaying Flowers

Is it terrible of me to say that, the second time she died, I breathed a sigh of relief? 

When it is time for me to collect her, she did what no one else does upon seeing me. 

She smiled and welcomed me with open arms.

While I had her in my embrace, the journey across the River seemed to take a little longer. 

Perhaps it was because I had willed it to. Or, even likelier, perhaps Styx took pity on me. 

Her soft cheek rested against mine. “Please, don’t forget me.” 

I held her tighter, forcing out a joke from behind a rapidly closing throat. “Forget you? When you’re the reason I only have one arm?” 

She still laughed, the silly girl. 

I should have just told her. 

Did you know? Millions of souls, and yet I remember all of you. 

But I am sorry. It is the duty of a god, especially one in my position, to love all humans the same. 

I truly must apologize. 

She is no longer here, but it seems that I love one most of all.

fin.

© 2024 by thereoncewasagirlnamedjane. do not repost, translate, or copy to third party sites. no part of this work may be fed into any AI software or websites. minors are asked not to interact with my blog; you are responsible for your own media consumption. blank/ageless blogs will be blocked.

[turnipoddity]

literally can’t stop playing hades after i know how magnificent artemis is. Thank you random youtube gamer for showing me the light that is artemis’ aid

[chrysalispilled]

"Why haven't you eaten her yet?"

"Yeah, wasn't that every fan's deal?"

"Oh, gals, come on! Look at her face! We never see ladies down here, and she's a nymph! I say we keep her, just for a little- Won't practicing our sets for an audience be nice?"

[awriternamedart]

"Hhharrggnnnnn…"

Hermes chuckled, letting his light feet touch the ground for the first time in what felt like eons.

"I know, I know boss! You can't be let off the hook either, its rare enough we get these chance encounters here, much less anywhere else!" The speed of his words had dropped ever so slightly. Even his worn chiton had seen better days, the wings on his head now folded and pressed up to his untamed hair. He had seen better days- they all had. Gods, niether of them even knew when they last crossed paths in the Crossroads, much less elsewhere. Hermes had his own duties to the Unseen, as did Charon- but still, both of them lingered for those few seconds.

"…yeah, I miss it to, boss." As if reading the chthonic god's mind, Hermes only chuckled, actually pausing long enough to enjoy the feeling of the grass for once. Hecate had insisted he linger- his clothes had gotten far to worn, and she had supposedly prepared him something. Charon knew, he perhaps had played a part in this scheme, but he was remaining stubborning quiet about the whole thing, quieter then normal! "Don't suppose you got somethin' new in stock there, my dear associate, that we can look through as we wait~?"

Charon just huffed, a low rumbling sound of amusement, dry and cracked. Both of them were worse for wear. Just a few years longer before Melinoe was old enough to be sent to the field, to her mission- but those years were to be spent in constant movement and prevention. Lest the worse happen.

Hermes was knocked out of his racing thoughts for a brief moment, cold gracing his cheek. It was a familiar gesture, dragging a soft laugh from worn cheeks. The circles under his eyes were certainly doing him no favors. Charon simply traced the line under his eye, brushing away the dirt stuck to his cheek.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were up to somethin. Yknow, boss, for someone so quiet, you can be awfully straightforward, makes me wonder why no ones ever really tryna talk to you! Well, besides my good ole coz, your a right fine guy!" Hermes found it enough to get a smile on his face- their affection was subtle, but not hidden. One was always stuck to his path, the other on the constant move. It was nothing either of them needed much time to think about. Crossing their paths so often just led to gentle partnership. Ease. Comfort. Trust. "…we just gotta wait, then itll all be back to normal."

Another word longer and he would have been whisked away by Hecate and Melinoe, both of them calling for Hermes from a ways away. Charon gestured for him to go, but the silent question for him to return before leaving didn't go unnoticed. Hermes gave him the best reassurance he could before he was pulled away and newly dressed- darker fabrics, more golden accents- fresh against his skin. It felt nice to get something new again, and it fit him well, something that made the god smile.

"Oh, Lord Hermes, it works so well! Charon was right to use these fabrics, I have no idea how he found them, thats for sure!" Melinoe clasped her hands together. Despite her young age, stress had already etched itself into her forehead- but it faded into something more childlike as she grinned. "Arachne will be so pleased to know it fits, though she doesn't exactly know its for an Olympian…"

"My lips are sealed, M." Hermes grinned, shouldering his new bag. It even had a little pocket, enchanted to the tee to have more space then it appeared, perfect for a little creature to take as home. Hecate handed him a small ribbon, helping him tie back what hair he had grown in his seemingly endless spy mission. "Thanks, mistress, real life saver the lot of you are!"

"It is our thanks to you, Hermes, for dedicating your time to this cause. Surely Olympus has questioned your continuous absence- we simply want to thank you for your time and effort." Hecate simply smiled before waving him off. "Now go, the boatman has been awaiting your arrival- he's your ride back to the Underworld for the next scouting rounds."

"Please do be careful, Lord Hermes." All the god could do was playfully tousle the young witch apprentice's hair, Melinoe gasping in surprise before Hermes zipped off to his counterpart, his rushed thanks the best they got as they watched him prepare to leave again.

"Now then, whatcha think, boss?" Hermes chuckled before settling into the boat with ease. He could only wave to the Crossroads before Charon pushed off, both of them knowing that time was of the essence.

But once the waving hands were out of sight, Charon paused them for a second, dragging Hermes attention back to him.

"C'mon, boss, we gotta move quickly~! You know better then I that moving as fast as possible is the best way we can get knowledge on whatevers going on downstairs-" His ceaseless rambling was paused for a second when Charon groaned, taking one of his armlets off. Most of his splendor in offerings of Obel was already stripped bare, the Boatman left nothing but his usual garb and whatever gold he could scrounge up and stockpile. He took no pleasure in it, as it wasn't Obel, but it was what he could make due with- which surprised Hermes. He was no god to part with his treasures and offerings. "Whatcha got there, boss?"

All he got in answer was for Charon to take his hands, sliding two of his own rings over Hermes' own fingers. The armlet was pressed into his hands for him to put on as he pleased, his touch lingering before he stood up to begin rowing yet again. Hermes could only stare in surprise, for once silent as he tried to process exactly what Charon had done.

To give recieved offerings of one god to another- it was nigh unheard of. But as he slid it on, feeling it settle into his skin, he could only chuckle and smile. Hermes was an Olympian, sure, but Charon was tied to the Underworld, to the River Styx herself and her sisters alike. And this was one way to certainly say that while in the Underworld, Hermes was under Charon's protection and watch.

"You know, if you just wanted to stake your claim, there were far easier ways, boss!"

Charon offered no answer to that, just another low gutteral groan with no percievable meaning. All Hermes could do was laugh and admire the delicate shine- they certainly were partners, in more ways then one.

-

woe charmes be upon ye

or speedboat

professional associates

how do they have so many ship names

anyway my take on how hermes got the new fit and also charons missing rings and armlet-thing (i dont know what their called and its bloody midnight im not researching shit rn) reappearing on hermes

hades 2 has in fact taken me by the throat and thrown me into the pits of tartarus were back in the fucking building again

[kedsandtubesocks]

graveyard heart

Post Outbreak!Joel Miller (Hades) x F!Reader

summary: your mom, a FEDRA officer, warned you about the darkness lurking - it arrives as the underworld smuggling king and he is indeed dangerous (but oh so terrifyingly beautiful)

warnings & tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI. dark themes || dead dove: do not eat. loose retelling of the Hades & Persephone myth, canon divergent, kidnapping, hostage situation, enemies to lovers, age gap (reader’s age not mentioned but is a drinking adult & was a child on outbreak day), dubcon - power dynamics & possible stockholm syndrome, morally gray!Joel, controlling/complicated parental relationship, brief scenes of assault (not from Joel), canon typical violence (gun usage, blood, fights with infected, awful raiders and fireflies), discussion of grief/character deaths, angst with sexual tension, masturbation (f&m), smutty thoughts, finger sucking, cum eating, poetic allusions to smut, light spit kink, protective!Joel, slightly possessive!Joel

word count: 11.6k (i’m sorry)

a/n: HI PLEASE READ & BE AWARE OF THE CONTENT WARNINGS. This is my first stab at darker content for the fandom & I’m a bit nervous, i kindly ask that if this isn’t for you pls just keep scrolling - so i blame my 2014 8tracks hades & persephone playlist for this but here are are lol! this is my piece for @beskarandblasters the pedro pantheon challenge! also the biggest thank you to @pr0ximamidnight & @ahauntedcowboy for being the absolute angels & letting me scream about this lol, now to you, if you’re reading this too I also can’t thank you enough ♡

(i)

You rarely go outside after curfew, much less to a gathering hosted by smugglers.

Boston had one of the most prolific and stubborn smuggling systems across all the quarantine zones, or so from what you’ve heard. Your mother and the other FEDRA officers had mentioned many times how, once the fireflies were extinguished, the smugglers were the next to go.

Especially the man in charge of the entire network.

Known as the most prolific and notorious smuggler, no FEDRA officer has even seen him.

The ruler of the smugglers, the king of the underworld.

Now, you’re here at a secret warehouse gathering apparently hosted by the illusive man.

It’s rather impressive. Outside is a large warehouse, decayed and ancient. Inside, the old office spaces were gutted out to create a new building. Commotion radiates from it.

The underground world was painted to be something out of a terrifying horror story. The parties had been urban legends whispered around the QZ. Your oldest friend had urged you to finally sneak away to one.

“This will be your fun night out to celebrate your new big adult job!” She had argued. “And besides, you need to live a little. Don’t worry about your mom, just enjoy having fun for once!”

Your mom. If she knew you were here she’d pop a blood vessel or worse.

But your friend is right. You want to experience more, don’t want to feel stuck under your mom’s watch forever.

Panic still crawls over you though, like at any minute your mother might walk in and scream your name catching you.

“Y’okay there?”

You didn’t realize you’d be dazed out for so long until a voice draws you out of your thoughts.

The accent is so strikingly thick, a drawl you don’t hear often. The man standing by the mixture of the homebrewed moonshine takes your breath away.

Ruggedly handsome, with a beautiful striking nose, older and wearing the lines of age gracefully with his gray hair, he seems brewed of something fierce and wildly beautiful.

You almost feel too stunned to talk, but manage to blurt out an apology.

“Yeah I’m good, just never seen a party like this.” You admit.

The man hums a bored sort of noise before he nudges towards the table.

“Want anything?” He offers, and nodding you tell him to surprise you.

Even with a scruffy glare on his face, the man’s eyebrows raise ever slightly, surprised.

The drink he hands you is harsh, stings your nose, isn’t anything like the liquor you’ve drank with your mom. You even cough at its harsh taste.

“Don’t tell me you never drank before.” The mystery man’s voice sounds offended.

“I’ve drank before.” You fire back. “Just never anything like this.”

The man’s dark rust colored eyes survey you, actually scan you up and down, making your skin tighten, feeling strangely judged and exposed.

He takes a sip of his own drink, yet his gaze continues watching you.

“So ya lost? Is that how you ended up here?” His words are simple, cold, and a frown tugs at your lips.

“My friend was invited, decided to tag along.” Your reply is blunt

“Your friend,” he nods. “And they’re where?”

Notorious for being a roamer, even when you were younger, you’re not surprised your friend wandered away for a moment.

“Guess just went to enjoy the rest of the party.”

“It ain’t a party.” The man says deep.

“There’s alcohol, people enjoying half ass drinking games, this looks like a party.” You shrug surprisingly braver. Guess the home brewed alcohol did that.

This mystery man’s face scrunches up, like he’s annoyed with you. He simply just takes another sip of his drink.

Apologizing low, you also thank him again for the drink and decide to exit. The man doesn’t stop you. Now you go looking for your friend peeking around the party. No sign of her.

Slightly worried, you check outside.

What you discover petrifies you on sight. Your best friend tries to leave from the shadow of the guy she’s talking to. Before she can leave, his hands grab her arms, a dark prison refusing to let her go. With full force he slams her against the wall. A small scream escapes her, and fear drowns her eyes while the guy grins demonically.

You rush over fast. All you have is the drink on hand, but once you’re close enough you slam the hard plastic right against the man’s face.

He screams in pain at the sudden attack.

“Leave her the fuck alone!” You scream not caring you’re being loud. You scurry to grab your friend quickly.

“You little fucking cunt!” The attacker roars and turns to you. Wild blood streams down his nose.

He swings his fist, and you try to escape the path of impact. But it still lands a solid hard hit against the side of your head. A scream comes from your friend and everything stings. You try remembering the self defense training your mom tried drilling into you.

Until a hard impact cracks in the air.

You blink into focus. Your assailant is now on the ground.

And the grumpy mystery man you met stands above with a bloody knuckle.

He’s the one who punched the guy.

“What the fuck man?! Fucking bitch hit me first!” The bastard on the floor screams.

“Get the fuck outta here. Or else.” The mystery man barks.

The guy on the floor’s eyes go wide, like he’s finally taking in the man above. Even in the dark, you witness terror rise fast across the guy’s face.

In a possessed panic, the assailant snaps up and simply leaves.

Your head throbs where the hit landed, yet your eyes stay stuck on the man who came to rescue you.

A soft voice suddenly eases in, and you’re met with a striking older woman.

“Come on, let’s get you both back inside.” Her name is Tess, and she holds a sharp grace to her as she guides everyone to the makeshift kitchen.

You want to help your best friend clean up, but Tess orders you to sit down and reassures she’ll take care of your friend in one of the bathrooms.

“You need to sit and get your head checked out.” Your friend tells you, worried.

Before you can even move to follow her and Tess, your scruffy savior waltzes in.

“Sit down.” He barks at you and moves to grab a cooled bottle to hold against your head.

You hiss when the cold glass touches your head.

“You smashed the shit outta that drink into that fucker’s nose.” The man begins with a gruff mutter. “Got a lot more fight in ya than y’look.”

You snort.

“I just acted fast that’s all…” you mumble back.

Turning to the man, you earnestly thank him. However, his deep eyes, almost the color of ancient rust, already stare at you. His gaze is intense, sharply piercing.

“So why do you guys even throw parties? Does your boss know it doesn’t seem safe.” You comment.

“Mainly to show off the products we got.” The man explains gruffly.

Made sense.

“Wait, is your hand okay?” You suddenly blurt out remembering the blood staining his knuckles.

“M’fine.” He answers and moves his hand away before you can try examining it.

Footsteps walk into the room, and Tess returns. Her eyes gleam soft.

“Your friend’s doing good, actually making jokes and everything.”

Relief floods in.

This may be the sign to head home. It would take a lot to sneak back to your best friends’ apartment, especially this late.

“Headin’ out?” The man asks when you return from checking in on your friend.

You nod weakly.

“Don’t. It’s late. Plus we got space in the back you two can crash in.” Tess reassures, and you graciously thank her.

“Don’t thank me, Joel was the one who offered.” She grins nudging the man.

Joel, his name - it’s beautiful.

Joel glares terrifyingly hard at her. Tess simply shrugs.

So you thank Joel, even use his name. This serious but stunning man doesn’t say anything and instead walks towards the other door.

“Come on.” He suddenly commands. You and your friend rapidly follow him.

Just as promised there are rooms safely tucked away. Though room is a gracious term with the stacks of various boxes and rusty cluttered furniture, but you won’t complain.

Joel says nothing, simply shows you the room then leaves.

“He’s weird as fuck.” Your friend whispers. You had to agree.

Even in this back room space the hum of the party continues to leak in. The lights from the hallway become a sliver under the door.

Soon enough boots thump outside the door, and your eyes creak open. From the light under the door a shadow moves. You’re worried for a moment until a darker shadow goes to rest against the door.

More footsteps, lighter ones, come.

“Gonna sit there all night? You’ll get a creak in your fucking neck.” Tess.

“Just get back to the party.” Joel.

His voice rumbles back, and you feel wide awake now.

He’a staying in front of the door, keeping watch.

You don’t know this man, just met him tonight. But you’re comforted knowing he’s here. Safety is hard to find in this world. Yet soft residuals of it seem to reside buried within Joel.

When you wake up however, he’s gone nowhere to be found.

On the walk home, your best friend is thankfully upbeat.

“You know,” she comments. “I’m actually kinda a little bummed we didn’t get to meet the scary head smuggler guy.”

You laugh, a dark humored type thing.

“Yeah me too, but after last night I’m kind of glad.” You agree.

You might not have met the infamous smuggler kingpin, but meeting Joel felt precious in its own strange way.

(ii)

You run into Joel again - literally bump into him.

Trying to put all the papers and books into your bag, you step outside the school and collide into a hard body. But instead of stumbling and falling back, firm hands steady you. All your items still drop.

Something fierce constricts your throat when you focus on who you ran into.

Joel, a very grouchy Joel.

You immediately ramble out a mess of apologies while you try picking up everything. Joel silently crouches down to help gather your fallen items.

“You’re a teacher.” He notes with a gruff low rumble.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Just started this week…Someone’s gotta teach the kids what the water cycle is.” You joke.

He snorts very faintly, and your heart jumps.

The handsome man has been in your mind ever since the party. Now he’s materialized here.

Your mom calls your name walking out of the building.

In her commander FEDRA officer uniform, you hate more than ever that she’s wearing it.

“Who’s this?!” Her eyes immediately flicker suspiciously to Joel as she smiles politely.

“Someone I just ran into that’s all.” You quickly answer.

Rapidly you turn back to Joel and politely thank him again for helping pick up your scattered papers.

Joel statically nods. But you don’t miss the way his eyes narrow at your mom before he leaves.

Your mother doesn’t seem to pay him any mind, not bothered by a stranger. A very FEDRA Trait.

When your first late night working at the school comes, that has your mom worried.

“I can call in and walk you home once you’re done.” She urges.

You’re an adult. You’ve faced scarier things. After much persistence, thankfully your mother begrudgingly relents.

The sky looks beautiful when you step out of the building. You can’t see the stars often from here but still feel comforted seeing a few twinkles above.

“Keep staring off like that and you’re gonna bump into someone again.”

The familiar gruff voice jolts your heart into overdrive. When your focus whips back to earth, Joel stands a few steps away.

“Fancy running into you again.” You beam, feeling your heart flutter at the sight of him.

Joel shrugs. “My way back from work came this way again.”

“Mind some company?” He nudges his chin towards you and you quickly, embarrassingly fast, you welcome him to join you.

Joel falls into step besides you.

You ask about how his day went, and he shrugs simply saying it’s been fine.

“So, your mom’s a FEDRA officer.” He suddenly comments.

You had a feeling he’d mention it. You almost want to make a joke that she just stole the uniform. But it’s hard with how Joel’s gaze seems to simply pierce through whatever he sets his eyes onto.

“I promise,” you blurt. “I haven’t told her about the party or anything.”

Joel nods, silent again.

Abruptly he stops walking. You do as well. The soft evening lights color the streets a dingy muted gray. The curfew call would arrive soon. There’s already barely anyone on the street.

He sighs turning to you. That sword's sharp piercing gazes of his makes you worried.

“This is my stop here.” He nudges to the apartment complex across the street. “But can walk ya home, if you want.”

You exhale relieved, even find fondness sneaks in.

“Oh no, it’s okay, it’s late anyway.” You earnestly thank him.

Suddenly a hand swings across your face out from behind. A cloth covers your mouth. Before you can even scream your eyes flicker heavy.

Joel is the last blurred sight you see before darkness overcomes you.

Groggily opening your eyes, you’re now in a barren basement type room lying on a mattress on the floor. Immediately you spot Tess. Then you notice a man with a large rifle standing by the door.

“What the fuck happened?!” You scream.

“Hey, relax.” Tess says eased. “It’s nothing personal.”

“Nothing personal?! What the fuck do you do to me?! Why am I here?!”

Before she can answer you, Joel waltzes into the room. The room shadows paint him a terrifying creature who stares at you hard.

“Look,” Joel’s voice is cold, unwavering steel. “I’m gonna be straight with ya. We ain’t doing shit to you. Just need your mom to make FEDRA give us what we want.”

Your eyes go wide.

You’re being held as a hostage.

Before anything else can be said, another man steps in.

“Sorry boss, but we’re getting word there’s chatter on the coms.” The man explains to Joel.

He nods then glances over to you from his shoulder.

“Y’don’t do anything fucking stupid and we might all make it out of this alright.” That’s all Joel says then exits.

The man with the gun nods to him almost as a sign of respect.

Even though so many thoughts buzz around in your head like angry wasps, it clicks fast.

It’s Joel.

Joel is the infamous underworld smuggling king.

(iii)

The rest of the day is a blur. You’re left alone and cry into your hands until it hurts. The man with the gun standing guard outside your door doesn’t seem to care. Tess at one point returns with cleaner clothes, even offers you a shower and a meal, but you stay silent.

Some of the smugglers pop their head into your room, curious about the new hostage.

“Aw, you’re too pretty to cry.” One of them grins.

“Yeah there’s someone else I could give ya to cry about.” Another snickers disgustingly, and you want to crawl into yourself.

Joel barks a hard loud yell.

“Any of you fuckers so much as even looks in there again or even dares touch her, you’ll have to fuckin’ deal with me, understand?!” Joel commands, a god among chaos.

It’s not entirely comforting, but it’s enough.

Not a soul walks by your room after that.

Later that night Joel comes with rations and more water.

“Y’need to eat something.” He suggests. You don’t even move to touch the food.

Joel sighs, placing his hands on his hips.

“I’m doing this to find my brother, simple as that. Need FEDRA to give us a good car or even a battery at best to get us on the road.” Joel explains sharply, methodically.

All of this for his brother. The love of a family member in exchange for the love of another. You understand, even can sympathize, but you hated this still, hated him.

With thorny malice, you glare hard at Joel staying silent.

He frowns harder, and it highlights his wrinkles. Joel doesn’t say anything, simply clenches his jaw and leaves the room.

In the room’s solitude, you try formulating a plan. If you just get a gun you can maybe make your way out of this place.

Whatever this place is, it’s the central base. It’s hard not to listen to all the commotion and talk done in the other room. The smuggling empire is terrifyingly impressive. From what you’ve caught there’s multiple routes and tunnels that operate for different means. Some smuggle in necessities like food or medicine, while others provide arms.

Joel orders and strategizes it all. Tess is just as in charge and orders commands as well.

“You should eat.” Suddenly the guard on the other side of your open door suggests.

You’re almost tempted to throw the rations out the door.

A sudden explosion cracks above and the ground rattles. The air stills, and everything shifts.

“Fireflies!” Someone screams.

This is your chance. In the rush of the commotion and the echo of gunshots, you hope to escape.

You’re left alone.

This is it. Adrenaline pumps through you fast as you frantically search for an exit, a gun, anything. But the chaos swirls fast. More yelling arrives underground, and gunshots fire off closer.

But your legs start buckling, and your eyes start getting foggy too. Fear comes fast. Did they maybe drug you?

No. You just realize…you haven’t eaten this entire day.

Now it’s getting hard to walk.

Stumbling, barely keeping focus, you lean against the wall. Your body feels like it’s going to crumble.

“Oh, look what we have here.” Someone coos. A shadow soon falls over you. “Fuck didn’t know the smugglers had someone this cute.”

This can’t be happening.

Your lips tremble while fighting back tears, can’t even focus on who’s around you.

“Maybe we can keep her as a nice treat.” Another voice laughs, and your stomach feels sick.

A gunshot rings into the hallway. A body collides so hard and fast on the floor it makes your vision focus. Crimson spills onto the concrete. When you snap your focus aware another firefly man screams in anger until Joel takes him down with ease.

Disrobed relief spills into you. Joel’s here.

In this fucked up moment you’re about to cry grateful because he’s here.

But your vision blurs more, and your body feels light.

Then your world again goes dark.

Sunlight this time wakes you up.

Panic causes you to bolt up fast, but the dizziness hits you. Hissing, you steady yourself.

“Don’t get up too fast.” Joel’s dull voice speaks from the abyss.

You’re in a small apartment now, or the decaying barebones of one. In one small room is the kitchen and a living room. You rest on the couch while Joel sits at the table.

“What happened?” You ask with a croak.

Joel nudges to the small dusty coffee table where water and rations sit waiting for you.

This time you don’t hesitate to snag them.

Joel explains all that happened. The fireflies attacked the tunnels for supplies, and it spilled into the base.

“Used the underground tunnels to make it outside the QZ. Then, came here to a safe house.” He finishes.

“Where’s Tess?” You ask.

“Stayed back. Need someone to communicate to me how the deal’s going.” You suddenly notice the radio sitting on the countertop.

“So it’s just you and me.” You mutter.

“Un-fuckin’ fortunately.” Joel replies with a hard scowl.

Your mind tries to settle now.

You’re in a home in the middle of fuck knows where. Your hope of maybe escaping is not as bright as it was in the underground compound. So you steadily resolve yourself to accept this situation. Your mother will come. She will find a way to make the deal and you’ll be back home.

When you finally glance out the window you discover you’re on the outskirts of the QZ.

Infected roam here.

“Shouldn’t we head back into the QZ?” You ask worried.

“And have you turnin’ my fuckin’ ass in? No way in hell.” Joel glares at you.

“Infected are out here.” You snap fierce.

“And you got me. Won’t need to worry ‘bout ‘em.” He says simply.

It isn’t that reassuring, but you think of how he’s proven himself already to be rather sturdy even for his age.

“So are we just gonna wait until we hear something?”

“Yeah.” Joel answers with a deadly deadpan that refuses to leave room up for any discussion.

The space stays in a tense thickness until the radio flickers to life scaring the shit out of you.

Tess over the radio gives an update. Still no word from FEDRA. Instead she goes into discussing work with Joel.

They talk in code, use numbers and different colors to describe things. But at one point they let the code slip. You piece it together easily. They work with FEDRA officers to get certain supplies. You knew FEDRA wasn’t squeaky clean, even argued about it with your mom. But this just solidifies the murkiness of it all.

None of them have a car or battery to give.

Joel ends up falling asleep in the chair at the tabled hands crossed over his chest. You now snoop around the place quietly. There’s an extra backpack for you as well as various contraband items still waiting to be delivered.

You silently steal one of the liquor bottles and place it stealthily in your bag.

You also unpack what’s in the bag.

The change of clothes Tess had first offered you, a few rations, a flashlight. No weapon though. You do spot flint, and that’s slightly reassuring.

The sun starts to dwindle. You need to rest. It’s obvious you’re not going anywhere for a while. So returning to the couch you close your eyes.

Then the howl of a clicker wakes you.

Instinctual primordial terror has your eyes snapping open wide in fear. Before you can move, you discover Joel beside you. Even in the dark you see a finger raised up to his lips.

Keep quiet.

You nod, sealing your lips tight.

The ominous clicking noise rattle outside the hall. You almost miss it with how loudly your heart hammers in your ears. The infected’s chatter sounds fainter as it wanders down the hallway.

You exhale through your nose, hopeful this means the infected is close to maybe leaving.

Until the radio flickers to life blaring a tune.

Horror collides into you fast. The clicker roars. Joel acts immediately raising his gun to shoot the radio silent. But it’s too late. The infected screeches, rushing down the hallway with violent steps until it rams into the door with full force. You hold back a scream.

Joel fires at the door, and a loud thud follows.

“Come on!” he snaps, scrambling to get up.

More would come. You slide the backpack on, and instantly follow Joel in a frantic rush.

Heart racing, you stay close to Joel while the two of you rush to escape out of the apartment complex. Screeches of more infected approach.

The night is dark, but Joel is surprisingly keen in maneuvering the area. He leads you into another ransacked building and holds his hand up, a silent sign to stop.

You’d be stopping here. You’re glad. All of your body feels weak. You haven’t seen a clicker up close in years. Now fear eats away at the adrenaline.

“We’ll stay here until daybreak.” Joel speaks barely above a whisper. “Get rest while ya can.”

You’re afraid to sleep now. Don’t even want to think about it.

Suddenly he says your name.

It’s the first time he’s ever said it.

He stares somberly, seriously at you. Joel must have seen whatever fear ran across your face. You fully take in the sight of him. Standing tall, his strong rifle in hand, he’s the image of unwavering determination.

“Sleep, I’ll be up.” He orders.

The distrust you hold for his man slowly is ebbing away. You know he’s simply keeping you alive for the bargain, but it’s enough for now. So you sit on the ground, try to just close your eyes and gather yourself together.

Sunlight again wakes you, and Joel continues standing watch.

He glances back to you, and with his stoic stome nature, he nods.

Time to move.

The journey through the debris and fallen memories of Boston is quiet, tense. Joel stays closer to you the entire way.

“Have another safe house just outside the edges of the city limit. We’ll be safe there.” He mutters low and you nod.

The smuggler king leads confidently. Even though you’re still petrified of infected, you take in the sights of the city. The intricate green vines, the lush landscape among the bones of civilization, it’s all a haunting sight, but you also think of how beautiful it is.

“Y’ever been outside the QZ?” Joel suddenly speaks low.

“Once,” you tell him truthfully. You had been a child then and you barely remember the journey.

“So you’ve been in Boston this entire time?” Joel asks now, sounding curious.

You have. It’s why your mom has such a high ranking within FEDRA.

“Your accent…where are you originally from?” You decide to ask questions now too, keeping the same low tone as Joel.

A part of you assumes he won’t answer or will just respond sarcastically.

“Texas.”

You’re surprised he answered.

“You're a long way from home then.”

He hums a noise that sounds like he agrees.

“Must have been a journey to get you all the way to Boston.” You note, now more curious about him.

Joel stays quiet for a moment, then replies with the lowest ‘yeah’ effectively ending the conversation.

Soon the buildings fade away. The forest creeps in denser as the suburbs approach.

At the edge of the neighborhoods, a home sits splintered off inching into the woods. It seems like the perfect secluded safe house base.

The place hasn’t been touched in a while. Leaves scatter across the title floor, and dust covers so much. You’re thankful this has more space than the small apartment. Joel immediately slings his backpack off then opens a door leading down to a basement. You follow him.

“Don’t fuckin’ follow me.” He snips, yet you stay behind him. He doesn’t stop you.

Instead Joel flickers on many camping lanterns and illuminates the basement. The stockpile here is barren, hardly any weapons or canned goods. Of course a radio sits on the table. Joel flickers to life, but no one answers when he sends his Morse code clicks. His face grows dark with worry.

“Please get me if you hear anything from my mom.” You finally say quietly.

“Yeah, will do.” Joel agrees somber.

It’s enough for now.

Two days pass. No sounds come from the radio. You and Joel walk around each other on egg shells and rarely speak. It’s suffocating. So you rummage around the house to find something to do, anything.

You find a deck of cards and it feels like a gift from above.

Quietly in the living room, you set up a lone game of solitaire on the coffee table. Or patience, as your mom loved to call it when she taught you how to play. Seems perfect to play now. You flip through the cards, placing them at the correct spots and columns.

“Solitaire?” Joel’s voice surprises you. But what shocks you even more is him moving to sit on the floor.

“You play?” You question.

“Not in a while, play other card games like poker or black jack.”

“I play blackjack.” You perk up, and Joel’s eyebrows rise slightly shocked.

You hand him the deck, cleaning up the rest of the cards and start a new game with him.

The game is tense at first, like you and him are still trying to navigate the thick tension. You peek at your cards and he glances at his.

He wins the first game, but now you’re determined.

Eventually you and him get sucked into playing. So many matches pass that when you win Joel pouts, throwing his cards down.

You burst out laughing. It feels like it’s been so long since you’ve laughed, and it’s freeing.

“You’re a sore loser.” You tease.

“I ain’t.” Joel rumbles back, scowling harder.

“Mhm, yeah sure. There’s a candyland box nearby I can get to prove you are.” You surprisingly joke, buoyant.

Joel shakes his head.

“I’ll show ya who’s a sore fuckin’ loser when I beat your ass at poker.”

“I don’t know how to play poker. Go Fish or nothing else.” You shrug.

Then, Joel snorts. It’s not a laugh, not even anything special, but it eases the strain among you and him even more. He starts shuffling the deck and hands out the cards to you.

With the most stern of voices, so seriously Joel, he asks if you have any sevens.

You laugh into your hand.

“I’m being fuckin’ serious!” He snaps.

You laugh even harder.

In this fucked up moment, in this murky situation, this brightens your soul.

A week passes.

Over the radio you hear Tess tell Joel flat out how heavy it’s gotten in the city.

“The fucking fireflies…FEDRA, everything, it’s gotten fucking insane… we might not get the car, or even the fucking battery Joel. We need to think of a plan b.”

Your stomach twists sick. Where was your mom? And what would happen if they decide you’re not worth the hassle anymore.

Shakily you head into the bathroom and sob into your hands trying to stay as quiet as you can.

Soon you’re a shell of yourself.

When you step back outside however, you’re resolved. Instead of the basement, Joel now waits in the kitchen, and his eyes widen seeing you.

“What’s wrong?” His voice picks up with a wind of worry.

“Joel.” You begin calmly and somber. “Be honest with me…”

You ask him the question that’s been haunting you.

What will become of you if FEDRA doesn’t hold up their bargain? If even your mom can’t follow through?

“Will…you get rid of me?” You speak soft, without even having to divulge more, but the festering rotting truth lies under your words.

The silence feels sharpened.

Joel quietly speaks first.

“No. Won’t do that to ya.” He mutters.

You don’t know if he’s lying or telling the truth.

You and Joel simply stare at each other. So much hangs tangled and barbed between you and him.

All you can do is simply nod. You swear his eyes soften for just a moment.

Another week passes. No signs or commotion from FEDRA. It’s beginning to feel like you’re in a room slowly filling with water, like you’re on borrowed time.

But you manage to pass the days with Joel through more card games. You try playing Pictionary with him, but his attempt at drawing a dog looks like a camel, and you laugh so hard at how badly he pouts.

It’s becoming amicable now, you and him.

But supplies are running low. Joel doesn’t sugar coat that harsh truth.

“There’s another stop we can go to from here, but I’m hoping we won’t need to.” He’s still waiting, hoping for FEDRA to answer.

Eventually the night settles in, and you’re surprised he joins you for another card game.

Right now you and him try another game of poker. You’ve come to learn you are not very good, which is also why you think Joel likes playing it knowing he wins.

“So how does a Texan far from home become the king of smugglers?” You try to ease the air by pushing more conversation with him.

“Just something that happened honestly,” Joel mutters, passing out the weathered cards.

“Got involved with my brother back when we started traveling outta Texas and just…never stopped.” He reveals.

“Your brother, he’s the one you’re looking for…” You remember.

“Yeah.” Joel agrees low.

“I hope you find him.” Gathering the cards dealt to you, you mean those words.

“Thanks…hope we can get ya back home.” A hint of sincerity leaks into Joel's voice and you appreciate that.

You’re about to deal your hand when rustling comes from outside. Glancing out the window, you try to find something among the dark shadows.

“What?” Joel asks fast and low.

“I don’t know… thought I heard something.” You mumble.

In that same breath, bullets fly through the window, shattering everything. The moment unfolds in a flurry of chaos.

“Raiders!” Joel shouts while you and him try to stay low. You crawl towards your bag.

The door gets kicked in and your heart races fast. Even as you and Joel scramble to maybe get down to the basement it's hard with the commotion rushing in.

Joel is swift with his gun, but the raiders keep coming.

Windows shatter further in the back of the house. They’re infesting. Time to leave. It’s a rapid rush to get outside. Before running into the woods, you stop to rummage in your bag finally remembering something important.

“The fuck are ya doing?!” Joel screams with a snarl.

You act fast. You rip a piece of your shirt edge, and grab the alcohol you stole along with the flint.

“Shit.” Joel breathes out realizing what you’re doing.

You’ve seen plenty of these, just never believed you’d ever make one.

Cloth in the liquid, Joel moves to help you light the flint.

Then when fire sparks catches onto the strip of clothing you stand up.

The adrenaline sets you ablaze. You throw the bottle with all your might. It manages to collide against the house’s porch. Soon the world is engulfed in a vibrant orange flame, a hellfire right before you.

Screams of raiders mix with the flames.

“Come on.” Joel urges and grabs your hand.

A rush of footsteps comes and it’s too late to react.

Something hard hits the side of your face. You cry in pain falling to the ground. The world spins on itself. Everything is disoriented. Your face throbs so bad, and you cough through the tears stinging your eyes. The sound of Joel firing off his gun again comes.

Then his hands steady you up.

“Y’okay darlin’?” He asks frantic and you nod, tired.

“Let’s go.” Joel grabs your hand again. This time don’t let it go.

Even arriving at the abandoned gas station deemed safe to stay, you don’t let his hand go. He doesn’t yell at you about it.

Instead Joel sits besides you, flush against your side.

Against the shadowed darkness of the old building, you hold his hand firm in his and he doesn’t let go either.

You wake up first this time and find your head slumped against Joel’s shoulder, resting against him now. His head also rests on top of yours.

This is new.

But then again, so was the term he used for you. You wonder if you just imagined it.

Unlike now, this is very real. You’ve never been this close to him, can smell the faintest traces of him, musky and dark. He snores. His hair tickles against your head, but you don’t want to move.

If anything you close your eyes again hoping for a few more minutes of peace. Joel eventually shifts, waking you both up. Nothing is said about the sleeping positions.

Then he turns to you, and his face falls.

Immediately Joel moves closer. Delicately one of his hands moves to your chin to examine your cheek.

“Does it hurt?” He asks gently and you shake your head.

Not as much. You know there’s probably an ugly bruise, but it could be worse. You’re grateful this is all you have.

“You should’ve seen the other guy.” You darkly joke.

Joel scoffs a small noise, maybe the echo of a laugh.

“So… Should I be worried about anything else you might’ve stolen?” His dry tone doesn’t sound upset.

You promise the bottle is all you took.

Joel hums, nodding.

“You continue to keep surprisin’ me.” His words are softer than he’s ever sounded

Now you realize, Joel is closer than ever before too. His face intensely scowled up now stares directly at you.

You drink in the sight of the king of the smugglers this close. The sun spots on his face, the age lines along his gorgeous features, it’s hard to deny how stunning he is.

After yesterday night it’s like you’re reminded raw and fierce how dangerous, but gorgeous of a man Joel is.

You think of the party you first met Joel. You remember thinking how you felt the remnants of safety, of protection that Joel showed then.

You should hate him. You wouldn’t be in these situations if it wasn’t for him. But when you ask yourself if you would rather be in the QZ, the truth is a distorted answer you might not be ready to face.

Without a word Joel whips around and moves to sling his backpack on better.

“Come on, let’s head out.” He announces.

You stay close to his side.

You expected another silent journey. However, the warmth of the day, the stretch of houses blurring more into the woods brings Joel out of his shell.

He talks about the Texas heat and how it used to be scorching. Interestingly points out different housing structures, and you learn he used to work as a contractor. Joel even asks about your job working at the school.

“It’s a job.” You say a bit standoffish.

“You don’t like it.” Joel sees right through you instantly.

“My mom likes it.” It’s safe, secure, stable and away from any harm and under the watch of FEDRA.

“What d’ya want to do then?” Joel asks surprisingly patient.

You pause momentarily, and the wind blows across your face.

It’s such a simple silly dream you hold in your heart…

Having your own house, enjoying peace, simply embracing living day to day without any worry about what to do or if your mom would approve.

“To simply be.” You answer. It’s enough for Joel, and you swear you see a faint grin tugging his lips.

The trail transforms into a serene sight, and you’re in awe of the beautiful landscape.

You should be scared that you’re walking away more and more from the QZ, even trusting Joel to follow him. But you’re not. The stretching trees untouched by the city, the edges of summer still peeking through the greenery, it's beautiful.

And getting hear Joel open up more, means more than you care to admit. He talks about this one mix up a couple of his guys made where they mistook baby milk formula powder for cocaine.

“Not Mister Scary Lord of the underworld getting upset over that.” You tease, and it almost feels like flirting.

Joel rolls his eyes. It adds a glowing playfulness to him, like seeing a small glimpse of the man he was before the world ended.

The further from the QZ you go, the deeper and deeper you’re drawn into this endless maze of a man that is Joel.

(iv)

You never believed a place like Bill and Frank’s existed.

Their own personal town is otherworldly. They, mainly Frank, welcome you with warm and glimmering hospitality. They’re both older, slightly around Joel’s age.

“So, what’s a lovely thing like you doing with Joel?” Frank asks jokingly.

“Oh, I’m just a hostage.” You sleepily grin. Frank’s face falls while Bill barks a laugh.

It’s easy to melt into this new world with these two and Joel. You never expected him to have friends like this, and it’s interesting uncovering more facets of him.

Bill barks for you not snoop, but Frank winks reassuringly to make yourself at home. The hot shower is an oasis, and the comfortable bed becomes a cloud.

Well rested, the next day you wander the town. You stay out until it’s dark. No infected, no raiders, no fireflies or no worries… just simply you and the beautiful night sky above.

“Still not payin’ attention to where you’re goin’.” Joel’s voice flutters in.

Along the side of the street he looks dreamy under the soft dark night.

“Can’t help it,” you truthfully say, glancing back up. The stars are too lovely not to admire.

You end up wandering closer to Joel or maybe he walks towards you. It’s too hard to tell.

“You can never see the stars this bright even at the QZ.” You return to admire the stars even with Joel besides you.

If your mom just knew how far you were.

Joel snorts, and you realize you spoke those words aloud. Even though you’re a bit embarrassed you simply shrug.

“It’s true.” You agree.

“Seems like she’s kinda…” Joel trails off.

“Controlling?” You finish, and he nods.

You understand why. She’s seen horrors, lost so much. But you’re an adult, a fully grown one and you’ve seen a fair share of hardships too. You just want to be understanding both to her, and to yourself.

You even explain this to Joel.

“You’re good, maybe too kind.” Joel mutters and you now intrigued turn to him. His eyes twinkle in the dark night more than they ever have. “Don’t seem to see the bad in people.”

Maybe you do. Maybe you understand that people in this world contain fuzzy and hard to decipher multitudes now.

Joel snorts when you tell him that.

“Y’know you’ve been traveling with a one of FEDRA’s top bad guys this whole entire time right?”

You know. Joel even calls himself a thief. But he doesn’t seem as evil as you believed him to be.

Glancing at him, the way the darkness should bring out his shadows. It instead illuminates him like a faint star. You think someone this man can’t be fully evil. Or maybe you’re not as good, blooming and unfolding in the mud to reveal your true nature.

You and Joel simply walk back to Bill and Frank’s in silence.

The radio also stays silent another week.

You’re worried about overstaying your welcome, especially with how hard Bill glares at you like you’re a pest. Frank however, eagerly includes you in so many of his projects and errands.

“Not as young as I used to be.” He teases while tending to one of the gardens, and you readily help as much as you can.

You stare in awe at all the beautiful lush vegetables and plants. There’s even a couple of fruit trees.

“Joel always asks for fruit when he comes for trades.” Frank chuckles.

You never would have expected Bill and Frank to be a part of Joel’s team.

“I know, we don’t seem like the type, or maybe I don’t seem like the type to be helping smugglers.” Frank comments teasing, as if he read your mind.

You quickly stammer out that you don’t mind.

“This world, it’s not as black and white as we think it is. Surviving an apocalypse really does paint everything in a murky gray. Sometimes, it’s okay to just accept that.” Frank explains.

You’re slowly starting to agree more and more with that.

“I know…there’s…a delicate situation going on between you and Joel.” Frank speaks cautiously.

“But I want you to know…that if this is serious, and you don’t feel comfortable with Joel or truly want to go return home, there’s ways we could figure it out.” His tone is serious, truthful and sincere.

His words warm you.

But you swallow hard. In the watch of the peaceful yard you reveal a shadowed truth that’s been building in you.

You don’t know if you want to go back. You know you will have to if FEDRA and your mom honor the trade. But you’re dreading returning to your life under the eyes of the decaying QZ streets, FEDRA, your mother…

And even if you do return there, you can’t imagine going without Joel.

“I just want to make sure he’s safe.” You add quietly.

“You probably think I sound awful or out of my mind.” Then you laugh hollow.

Frank doesn’t reply immediately. You wait for him to judge you.

“I don’t think that at all.” His hand gently pats yours. “I think you’re actually really brave being so honest.”

That brings a thickness in your throat. Frank grins warmly at you, squeezes your hand comfortingly. You soak up his kindness like a flower bud in the sunlight.

However, another day passes with no noise among the picturesque world.

At breakfast you try holding back your laughter while Bill and Frankie aruge over the Wizard of Oz.

Joel, who surprisingly slept in late, emerges to take a seat at the table.

Him and Bill immediately jump into discussion about smuggling routes and new supplies. Frank slowly slips out to the kitchen.

“What day is it?” Joel asks.

Bill simply tells it to Joel, but it’s like a switch is flipped on.

He shoots up out of his chair, doesn’t even care that it topples over or that he slams into the table knocking everything. Bill yells at him fiercely. But Joel storms out of the room leaving everyone in his aftermath.

“What happened?” Frank asks, emerging back into the dining room.

“Joel, being fucking Joel.” Bill sneers.

Frank ignores his husband and turns to you. Explaining what happened, his lovely face frowns instant.

“Oh…oh I forgot about today.” He mutters.

You ask what today means. Frank slides closer to you with his eyes low.

“If I remember right…Today’s Sarah’s birthday.” He answers.

Confusion bubbles up, and you ask who Sarah is.

Frank’s face contorts in shock.

“Sarah…she’s Joel’s daughter that passed away.”

Those words take your breath away and you feel your world tilt on its axis.

Joel was a dad. Joel had a daughter.

You never would have expected. Frank must see the look in your eyes now as he places a hand on your shoulder.

“He doesn’t talk about her much. It’s not your fault you didn’t know.”

You’re left haunted by it all though.

Eventually you get the confidence and bravery enough to find Joel.

Walking around the vacant neighbor, you eventually spot him sitting on the porch step of one of the homes.

“Fuck you doin’ here?” He snaps, but there’s no malice in his voice, only a hollowness.

Standing besides him, you inhale deep.

“My big sister was infected on outbreak day.” You begin.

It happened after school when your mom was talking with your neighbor outside your home. You were still so little, barely remember pieces of it.

But the memories you have are sharp.

You’re in the kitchen, laughing at something your sister says. Suddenly she starts twitching. Then your world ended. You still hear her snarls sometimes, still taste the terror when she tried biting you and how you prayed it was just a game, until the screams of your mom came. It’s simply been you and her ever since.

Joel’s face finally turns to you and his eyes are wide, glossy obsidian gems and so open, so unlike Joel. Yet it’s like you’re seeing a true layer of him.

“I’m so sorry about your daughter Joel. That pain of loss never really leaves and I get it.” You carry your big sister’s ghost with you now.

Joel doesn’t say anything, instead clenches his jaw and blinks away the shimmering gloss reflecting in his eyes.

“It ain’t the same.” He suddenly snaps back. “You never felt the pain of losin’ a child.”

You feel insulted.

“Loss is still a loss Joel. Don’t you dare say my hurt is less than yours. What would your daughter say?” You snap back.

You know that’s not a kind thing to say. It galvanizes Joel. He bolts up and becomes a terrifying looming force that pierces you where you stand.

His voice silence is deadly, slices through you.

There’s so much you want to say to hurt him, but what good will it do. You simply blink away tears and walk away, leaving Joel to his ache as you try to quell yours.

Trying to settle your emotions, you end up walking around the ghost town and spot various glorious wildflowers, blooms so vibrantly colorful. You grab as many as you can.

Back at the house, Frank brightens immediately seeing the flowers in your hands.

“I got just the vase for them!”

Frank asks if you picked these for yourself and you shake your head.

“For those who have passed, and for Sarah.” Your answer.

Frank doesn’t say anything but instead nods, a silent understanding.

You head back to the guest room to try taking a nap. You accidentally left the door open partially, and soon enough Joel’s arrival lumbers into the grand home.

“Bill get those for you?” He notices the flowers.

Frank snorts. “You know Bill wouldn’t.”

He instead clarifies you did.

“For today…for Sarah.” Frank then adds.

Joel is quiet. You close your eyes and now drift into the flickering world between falling asleep and being aware.

You swear you faintly hear the door creak open more, catch the faint smell of cedar, and feel delicate but callous fingers run across your face.

But when you open your eyes, no one is in the room.

It’s like nothing happened between you or Joel the next morning. He even helps you and Frank outside harvesting some of the ripe new fruit.

“Can't handle Bill’s grumpy ass anymore.” Joel explains.

“Two grumpies together might just be too much.” You tease. Joel glares dully at you. Frank snickers amused.

You perk up bright seeing the lovely apples on the tree.

“Go ahead! Try one!” Frank eagerly urges and you do.

You haven’t had fresh apples in years. Your eyes close in bliss tasting sweet heaven and you munch away.

Suddenly a thick thumb runs against your cheek and your eyes snap open.

“Sorry. Got some on your cheek.” Joel clarifies drawing his hand away.

He suddenly draws it into his mouth to have a taste. You feel a bit dizzy but in a way that makes your stomach flip.

Joel’s eyes go wide, momentarily realizing what he did. Without another word, he bolts.

You and Frank are left staring at each other stunned.

The rest of the day Joel stays glued to the radio in Bill’s workshop.

Later that night your fingers crawl silently under the sheets, under your underwear, and you imagine what Joel would feel like. This man that’s taken you away from your home - you should feel guilty and ashamed, even horrified at this. But instead you only find an ache for more for his fingers to replace yours.

But even among the decadent desires you indulge in more and more…

Another week passes.

You and Joel share a somberness, slowly facing the harsh truth.

You may not be returning home.

“I want us to have a nice dinner tonight!” Frank must sense it too because he declares a bright order.

“So that means new outfits and everyone taking a good shower!” Frank insists proudly showing you to the clothing boutique the town has.

You end up grabbing the softest looking sundress. It’s delicate, fits comfortably on you and even makes you feel brand new.

Especially after taking another warm shower with the homemade lavender soap Frank gave you as another gift. Bill seems to be warming up to you. He even makes a dull joke about you taking a shorter shower than Joel.

When Joel does emerge from the shower, something shifts in you. His wet slicked back hair highlights all his silver streaks. In the new button up shirt Frank shoved at him and ordered him to wear, he’s gorgeous.

The terrifying ruler of a smuggling empire, now just a man who seems almost embarrassed, fidgets because you stare at him so directly.

Dinner is thankfully wonderful.

At some point you realize the role of hostage, of someone kidnapped, doesn’t feel so barbed. You now roam freely without any fear. Laugh warmly at the stories Frank tells that makes Bill scoff and Joel roll his eyes.

You insist on cleaning up to let Bill and Frank enjoy the nice evening to themselves.

In the kitchen you gather the plates until the door creaks open behind.

“Needed to get away from Bill’s god damn glarin’ st me being the third wheel.” Joel huffs.

Smirking, you find Joel effortlessly begins putting away dishes, helping.

It’s peaceful. In another life you wonder if this could have been a regular evening, in a house you owned…with someone you cared for.

Someone who you hate looks eerily like Joel.

You shift to go grab something just as he moves, and the two of you gently collide. It’s nothing extreme, but Joel’s hand moves to steady you against your lower back.

“Sorry.” He mutters, and your eyes flicker to him. He’s close again. So close you can almost smell the rosemary and pine soap among a scent so deeply Joel. He doesn't move yet. Neither do you.

That’s when you catch it, Joel’s deep rust eyes glance away from your gaze and towards your lips.

You wonder if maybe you’re seeing things, or have something on your face. But his hand against your back feels warm, steady, like you never want it to leave. His face ever so slightly begins to pull closer towards you.

You don’t want this to stop.

But Bills footsteps clamor to the kitchen. It electrifies both you and Joel causing him to scurry out of the kitchen.

That night you’re unable to sleep.

Frank always offered his collection of books for you to browse through. You decide to glance around and hope something sparks your interest.

That’s when a muffled groan floats out into the hallway.

Curiosity and a hint of worry has you walking back towards the rooms.

A choked out sigh comes from Joel’s room and the world melts away.

You need to go back to your room, even head back to the living room.

But you instead lean closer and find the door is slightly cracked like Joel thought he closed it but didn’t.

You faintly hear it, the sound of him jerking off. His soft sighs, his hand rubbing out his cock, it makes your mouth dry and water at the same time.

You’re no better than a creepy pervert, but you can’t help it.

Joel’s hand speeds up faster and now your wet core begs for attention already.

Then his climax hits with a deep loud groan, and it’s delicious.

You shift trying to quell the heat crawling all over your body.

But Joel sighs.

And he says your name.

It’s clear, steals your breath.

Maybe it’s been this recent journey that’s reminded you how short this life is… but whatever galvanized energy it is, it surges through you to move and push into Joel’s room.

Oh he’s a sight.

Your mouth waters seeing his cock, thick, beautiful and messy before it’s covered by the blanket.

Joel scrambles up petrified. “What the fuck y’doing here?!”

“You said my name,” you whisper slowly creeping towards him while shutting the door behind you.

“You’re hearin’ shit.” He barks low, angry and harsh.

You swallow hard.

“I think about you too… whenever I touch myself.” You admit barely above a whisper.

Joel’s eyebrows fly up to his hairline, but immediately he coughs as if he got punched.

“Go back to your room.” He urges, but it’s not persistent. You shake your head no, and now arrive against the side of his bed.

“We… you…this shouldn’t be happenin’.” He urges.

“You say you’re a thief, that you’re the bad guy here,” you mutter posessed. “Maybe I am too.”

“Darlin’” Joel breathes out that sacred term, the one you’ve prayed to hear again.

Confidence surges through you more toxic than any other poison.

“Maybe I wanna take for once,” you whisper, moving onto the bed. Your eyes glance to the wet white sticky mess against Joel’s stomach and his hand that he didn’t cover.

Your mouth aches to taste him.

So flickering your gaze to Joel, it’s a cautious moment and what you’re about to do can fall apart in a minute. But your hand moves delicately, cautious. Your eyes stay on Joel, waiting for him to tell you no or react.

But he doesn’t.

You grab his cum covered hand still keeping your eyes on him. Until you glance down at his hand, his calloused beautiful large hand.

He still hasn’t pulled away or made a noise to stop you.

Tentatively you lick up his fingers, tasting his release.

“Fuck!” Joel barks out a harsh hiss.

You’re worried he’s going to yank his hand away, but he doesn’t. He instead sits up more like he’s been electrocuted.

It’s enough to let you indulge now.

So you draw his fingers into your mouth.

They’re so large. The salty taste of his cum and the taste of his skin on your tongue makes your eyes close as you clean his fingers.

“Fuckin’ shit, baby.” You want to hear him say those words over and over, want to cherish how wrecked his voice breaks.

Now, very slowly, Joel’s fingers move in your mouth and you moan. He traces your teeth, drags the meat of his fingers across your tongue and plunges deeper into your mouth.

Your eyes roll back, and on instinct you start sucking.

“Yeah darlin’ yeah.” Joe whispers hoarsely, and you want to get drunk on him.

Steady, his fingers plunge in and out, fucking your mouth as you become putty in his hold. His other hand now runs up your thigh, under the edge of your dress.

“Want you so bad Joel.” Even with his fingers in your mouth you whimper out those words maybe mainly to yourself, maybe thinking this is just a dream.

But the way Joel surges up, yanks his hand out of your mouth to clutch your face, and he kisses you like a parched man…

This feels too good to be a dream.

You melt into it, into Joel, greedily stealing all he gives you. Just as you welcome him to steal all he wants from you, and you readily give him everything. No worries about anything else, it’s simply you and him.

When Joel slides into you, deep and wide, when his breath tickles the heat of your skin, you taste the essence of him all around - the world feels reborn.

Joel however, is slightly more reluctant.

“M’too old for you.” He argues after the second night you crawl into his room.

“You think I care?” I simply say running your fingers against his warm chest.

“You should.”

Well you don’t and you tell him that.

Then the dark doubt creeps in.

Because there are other things you should care about.

“Are you doing this…”

Just to be cruel, to maybe even control you.

Joel sits up holding your hand against his chest. Your eyes met his. There’s steeled sincerity in his eyes as he shakes his head.

“No… hate that I wanted you from the start, before all this.” At the party. That feels like ages ago.

You can’t help but ask him why, why you.

He sighs, and his thumb strokes your hand.

“Saw you when ya first walked in. You laughed at something your friend said. It was so loud, so fuckin’ genuine.”

You’re about to apologize, embarrassed, at how loud you laugh until Joel continues.

“Knew you were something fierce, something beautiful. I was gone the minute you smashed that god damn drink in that guy's face.”

He doesn’t have to say anything else. So much clouds the room and it feels thick, but it’s like the thickness of a misty morning fog you want to get lost in. You kiss him tenderly, as if you have all the time in the world.

After this a new shift comes between you and Joel. His hands always seem to be on you, gently touching your arm or grazing past you closer. After your nights with him, hickies paint your thighs and you admire them in the morning.

In the dark, Joel tells you more about Tommy, about the plan he has for finding his brother. Even sometimes he reveals bits and pieces about Sarah.

You soak in every moment you can with him. Joel even stays a full day away from the radio helping Bill renovating one of the sheds. It’s a gift watching Joel work with his hands and tools, like watching the shadow of a past still existing in him.

Your heart becomes a treasure chest holding all these moments.

But something darker still rots in you.

FEDRA still remains silent.

(v)

Summer winds down. Cooler air settles in the town, and you happily enjoy sitting on the porch more and more.

You’d been eyeing the pomegranate for a few days. Now after Frank happily told you to enjoy, you excitedly and greedily cut into it. Joel even showed you how to earlier.

Currently you sit on the porch enjoying the soft breeze. Frank sits besides you watching Bill work on a project. You laugh at how affectionate the two are even while bickering.

Scooping out a couple of the pomegranate seeds, their beautiful ruby color stains your finger. They taste of a sweetness you never want to leave. Boots approach from behind.

“Joel! Come, sit. Enjoy the nice early autumn weather.” Frank calls and you turn to grin at him.

“FEDRA finally got in contact.” Joel’s words pop the air.

Everything stills.

When you turn towards Joel, the somber stare on his face already reveals the answer.

FEDRA denied the exchange.

The rest of the pomegranate sits uneaten on the porch.

You sit in Joel’s room quietly for what feels like years. The tears don’t even come anymore.

“She can stay here! She’d be a welcomed addition” Frank urges from the living room. “We’ve appreciated all the extra help around here.”

“No. Take her back.” Bill interjects flat.

Frank shushes his husband.

The conversation becomes low, muffled, and you’re too tired to even try and listen. You instead curl into Joel’s pillow, and let sleep take you.

A callous hand gently stroking your cheeks wakes you. The low early evening light bathes Joel glorious, and you faintly smell wine Joel must have had.

“You gonna get rid of me now?” You mumble hollow.

Joel shakes his head no.

“Too late for that.” He says with the faintest hint of a crooked grin. “Told ya, I’m head smuggler for a fuckin’ reason, like to keep what’s mine close.”

You place your hand over his and squeeze it tight. But the tears manage to return.

“What’s gonna happen now?” While you ask, your voice breaks.

Joel exhales.

“Don’t know.” He says truthfully.

You’re grateful he’s being honest. Joel’s dark autumn eyes glance away.

“I know we’ll manage, find a car, get Tommy.” He nods to himself.

“But…” he adds with his voice trailing off.

“Don’t wanna think about you leaving,” Joel admits with the lowest rumble.

“Can’t fuckin’ handle it… thinkin’ about not knowin’ how you’re doing, not seeing you…” he shakes his head.

“It’s fuck up. I know it’s god damn fucked up... If you want me to take you back to the QZ, I’ll do it. If you wanna just stay here, I’d let ya.” Joel’s voice sounds strained, almost debris filled with so many emotions begging to get out.

You slide your hands around him, and he draws you closer. The world might be crumbling again all around you, but he feels like a steady rock amongst it all.

“I don’t wanna leave, don’t wanna leave you.” You whimper out the truth.

Joel holds you tighter into his strong warm embrace.

That night you fuck Joel like it’s the last time you’ll ever see him, and a grim darkness seeping in your mind whispers it might be.

You want every piece of him. So when you open your mouth wide, without any question, Joel runs his thumb across your bottom lip and spits into your mouth. You greedily swallow.

What surprises you is when you’re seated in Joel’s lap, slowly grinding up and down on his thick cock, he weakly opens his mouth as well.

Tenderly stroking his cheek, you gently lean down and let the spit drip from your mouth into his. You feel drunk watching Joel’s eyes roll back as he swallows.

Instead of feral roughness, or a devouring passion, it’s tender, makes your heart swell. Joel’s hands map you out like you’re a cherished rare gem.

In his arms, in the quiet stillness of the room, your heart begs for weeds to start growing around you.

(vi)

From a glance out the window, the pumpkins seem to be flourishing beautifully. They’re your first big vegetables you’re growing, with Bill’s supervision of course. But you’re proud of the progress nonetheless.

You’re finishing cleaning the last bit of dishes from breakfast when a sturdy arm slides around you from behind.

For someone so grumpy, Joel is surprisingly and secretly a cuddly creature. His wonderful nose burrows into the side of your face.

“Wanna work on the kitchen today,” he mutters.

The old house across the street from Bill and Frank’s has become the new project. While you still stay with Bill and Frank, your hope is to eventually make that empty house a home.

The autumn air invigorates you as you go to visit Frank in his sunroom.

“Will you be okay here by yourself?” You ask him gently.

Frank snorts. “You and Bill both, such worrywarts.”

Frank’s been moving slower, coughing more. It tugs at your heart. Over the radio you now even ask Tess if there’s other medication options for him to try.

You’ve grown to care about him, even grouchy Bill and Tess who even seems to warm up to you now.

It’s your own carved out universe.

Frank good naturedly pats your hand, reassuring you he’ll be fine. With a squeeze to his shoulder and a warm goodbye, you head across the street.

Of course Joel takes charge, and it’s hard not to jump his bones seeing how effortlessly he takes to fixing up this house.

The night you decided to stay here, Joel slid you a paper and pen.

“Draw me your dream house.” He told you gruffy.

He kept that very poor drawing. It’s what guides the renovations. The house is smaller than Bill and Frank’s but to you, it’s a perfect size.

“You know I can do it myself, make Bill work too.” Joel had told you when you first showed up to help.

“I know, but I wanna help. Wanna know my elbow grease went into everything too.” You told Joel with a grin.

He didn’t shoo you away after that. Now you get to help around when you can. The sanded cabinets and freshly painted walls, all fruits of your labor and you’re excited, proud, seeing the house come together. It’s breathing life into his dusty space, and you cherish it.

Eventually you head back to Bill and Frank’s.

Frank calls to you. “The radio came on.”

With Joel throwing himself into fixing up the house, interestingly enough you’ve become his stand in. It’s how you and Tess slowly began bonding. You’ve told her FEDRA routes and patrol changes and she’s in turn gossiped about what’s been happening in Boston.

You miss it often, but the peace of walking to visit your pumpkins, to helping Frank at breakfast, of having Joel in your bed…it’s like a new breath in your lungs.

“Hey.” You greet Tess.

She says your name, somber and you still.

“Your mom…she finally got in contact with us.”

You inhale shakily. A part of you had wondered if your mom would do something like this.

Finally managing to get a hold of a battery, your mom is offering to trade it for you.

A wave of fear does grip you. You don’t want to leave, don’t want to go back. But you also miss her dearly.

When Joel returns, beautifully coated in sweat and saw dust, he’s like a construction god. But seeing your face, he instantly understands something’s up.

In the seclusion of your room, you tell Joel you’ll return to Boston, and his eyes become moons.

“You don’t have to go back.” Joel whispers to you later that night. “Can say we want more.”

You shake your head.

Your mom has been through enough, and Joel needs this.

“You need to find Tommy.”

His hand curls against your face holding your cheek so precious. “We’ll find another battery, or hell I’ll take one of Bill’s. Don’t want ya feeling like you’re forced to go back.”

This has all been out of your control and now, you have a say.

You’ll return with Joel, but you won’t be fully returning to your life in Boston either. You’ll exist between these two worlds now, visiting your mom and primarily staying with Joel.

Your mom won’t be happy about this, you can almost hear her fury already. But this is what you want. It’s the journey your path will take.

“Y’okay with this?” Joel suddenly asks before leaving the gate to the town. His eyes search yours. “You don’t have to do this, especially for me.”

You understand what he means, but this is for you.

Gently you draw Joel towards you and kiss him soft.

With the smuggler king, you walk firmly into the sunlight. The early autumn breeze gently guides you forward.

[ancientpersacom]

Can’t decide who to wife up…

[bones4thecats]

Whoops! I forgot to add an emoji, sorry!

I'm the anon who made the Record of Ragnarok request regarding a goddess of fortune and luck s/o. I'd like to be called 🐢 anon, please.

RoR w/ Goddess of Fortune + Luck! S/O

Characters: Poseidon, Qin Shi Huang, and Hades Requester: 🐢Anon A/N: This was a nice thing to write, each of them have their own story, which basically never happens anymore, lol. Anyways, hope you like this! And have a sparkling rest of your days/nights! ⚠️ Spoilers/Trigger Warnings for: Mentions of death, insinuated assault, SWEARING in Poseidon's part, murder, blood, and slight description of death (tiny gore warning) ⚠️

Disclaimer: The Reader is a FEMALE and based on Yaoshi (HSR)

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Poseidon ══════════════════════════════╝

🔱 You were his beauty to his beast. While that might not be physical on his behalf, his emotionless and cold demeanor made everyone, including his own family, believe him to be a devil in an angel's skin

🔱 On average, you would visit your believers in your temple, waving each ahead before gifting them with luck and a small fortune every time. But, as your reputation grew, so did your follower's egos

🔱 Poseidon was pissed when he found out one of your long-time followers had a son whom was trying to get into your pants so you would gift him with an unbelievable fortune and unbelieving amounts of luck just for being 'yours'

🔱 He decided to visit your temple one day, stabbing his trident into the stone flooring as he walked, alerting all that surrounded the area, and making them bow in respect to the God of the Sea. Poseidon just scoffed and kept walking, not giving any human any glance, they, in his eyes, did not deserve a perfect being like himself's attention

🔱 As he strode through, he found Aphrodite and Heracles outside of your temple, watching over the many children in the surrounding garden. They smiled as they caught Poseidon walking, as he just asked for your location

"Y/N went to her chambers with this guy... I think he said his name was... Dolion?"

"Yes, that was his name Heracles. They've been gone for about 10 minutes, I was about to send Heracles to check on them, but since you're here!"

🔱 Poseidon nodded and walked to your chambers, his trident making the same clack noise as he heard a man yelling at someone, which made your husband furrow his brows slightly as he listened in

"Get out of here, Dolion."

"Oh go fuck yourself, you whore! Just manipulating my emotions like that?! Making me feel such a strong connection just for you to take it away because you're married to that bastard, Poseidon?! How could you?!"

"Dolion. I will not tell you again. Get the fuck out."

"Don't tell me you never felt the connection with me, Goddess of Fortune and Luck? Come on, Y/N."

"You have no right to call me by that name. Do not make me kill you where you stand."

🔱 The sound of you screaming made Poseidon burst in the room, his trident pushing against the male's neck as you fell to the ground, your long hair pooling around your small frame on the ground

"You have five second to apologize, worm."

"Who the fuck are you?!"

"Five."

"Seriously, man! Who are you?!"

"Four."

"Oh for the love of Olympus. Answer me!"

"One."

🔱 You closed your eyes as Poseidon stabbed the man's neck, plunging his trident's three tips into the stone wall and causing blood to begin drip down the body of the now-deceased young male

🔱 Standing up and listening to your chain-wrapped foot hit the ground as you hugged Poseidon from behind, your grip tightening around his stomach, making him look back at you and breath out, providing your ears with the familiar echo of his breathing. He then grabbed your arm and wrapped his own around your midsection, keeping you in a protective grasp

"Thank you, 'Seidon."

"Hmm."

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Qin Shi Huang ═══════════════════════════╝

👑 Qin Shi Huang knew that you and him being in a relationship was bound to start some kind of controversy within the Einherjar, as they distrusted pretty much any God they came across. Yep, that means they distrusted Buddha for quite a while

👑 You merely sat up with the rest of the fighters as Qin fought, and you smiled gently as Hades walked in, causing Leonidas to look at you with narrowed eyes

"What are you smiling at, Goddess?"

👑 Chuckling at his animosity, you reached outwards, pointing towards the tall, white-haired God of the Dead before speaking up again

"That man caused many issues between me and my old human friend, Tamaki. Honestly, seeing such an enemy fight against my husband is a fight I cannot tear my eyes from for a second."

👑 Kojiro smiled as you spoke, looking back down at the Emperor. He then looked at you and asked you how you had met the royal and gotten into a relationship, after all, being a Goddess of such a high-caliber in the Shinto Pantheon must have been hard to deal with a human

"It's quite the detailed story. But if you wish to know so badly, Sasaki, I shall tell you the shortened version."

👑 The others adjusted their positions to listen to you, curiosity spread through their tough and chiseled forms as you began to speak, recanting your love story with your husband

"One night, I had decided to take a walk through a garden, but this garden was owned by the Emperor's family. It was there that I noticed a young man walking around, a blindfold over his eyes, much to my confusion at the time. I walked to the man and asked him if he could see and needed assistance, the man, whom I later learned to be Qin Shi Huang, had merely waved me off with a smile before asking if I needed help since he never saw me around the building."

"Wait- he can see through that thing?" Buddha asked.

"Correct, Buddha. But, after I left, I had given him a peony and a orchid. The peony, in Chinese culture, stands for good fortune, while the orchid stands for wealth and fortune. I began to come by nearly weekly, which allowed us to grow closely before he proposed and we married. I revealed my identity as a divine being a mere few days before he proposed, so imagine my shock when he asked for my hand in marriage!"

👑 The others chuckled as you finished your story, allowing you to look back down as your husband readied his form for the fight. You allowed a single tear to fall down from your eye, but before it hit the ground, you picked it up and tossed it onto the ground, making a four-leaf clover pop up from the flooring. Grabbing it, you blew it to your husband, in your own, silent way to wish him luck in the battle for Humanity's safety

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Hades ════════════════════════════════╝

💀 As you pat the young deity's head, your husband watched from a distance. You had been bonding with Zeus' family a lot more after the birth of Ares, his youngest brother's oldest son, and after Hermes' birth, you had just doubled down on your Auntie-responsibilities, even as the two aged

💀 Hades smiled as you looked at the middle of Zeus' boys, using your magic to tie tiny golden fabric-strands onto his body, around the arm like a bow for Hermes, he lightly adjusted it to his style while you smiled and pat his head lightly

💀 Laughing as you saw Ares began to mess around with his father, Zeus, as he tried making a speech as if he was going to lead another army to battle, you gave one of the most beautiful smiles in Olympus

💀 Hermes then told you he needed to go visit with his mother, you nodded and allowed him to go speak to Hera. You then clasped your hands in front of your hips and walked towards your husband, stopping by his side and laying your head on his shoulder

"Good afternoon, my love."

"Good afternoon, my King of the Netherworld."

💀 Chuckling and laying his head on your own, Hades smiled gently. He could feel your welcoming and warm aura pulse through his own cold and noble one, and it was a feeling he didn't want to let go of anytime soon

"Aunt Y/N, Uncle Hades! It's good to see you both!" A voice rung out, snapping both you and Hades out of your peaceful moment.

💀 Looking back up, you saw two of your three nephews. Heracles and Ares walked up and shook their Uncle's hand while they hugged you delicately, making sure they didn't accidentally damage any of the golden accessories that dawned your figure

"It's good to see you both as well. How has training been?" Hades asked.

"Alright. Dad almost destroyed the arena last week, though." Ares answered while Heracles nodded with a tired expression.

"Well that sounds like fun, calming your father down and all." You teased, making the three guys smile and chuckle at the thought of Zeus acting like a child in need of discipline from his parents.

"Y/N!" Aphrodite yelled out, waving you over to her and her nymphs.

💀 You peered back at your husband, who just nodded and kissed your forehead, allowing you to walk over to your old friend. Aphrodite was excited about something, and he knew you were naturally a curious being

"You really love her, don't you, Uncle?" Heracles asked.

"That I do. That I do..."

[ambivalent-amphibian]

ended up in booktok like-

please stop with these "modern retellings"; they're more unoriginal, disrespectful to the source, and even more and tone-deaf than disney live action remakes, and that's saying something.

*puts these stories and the ETL trope away until they learn what it actually entails and they can finally tell the difference between ab*se and a mutual rivalry that could really evolve into understanding and love -or even a safe, sane and consensual sexual relationship*