#hades has never seen a dog before in his life

[cosmodynes]

[dragon-communion]

Now that I've caved and made an entire St. Trina sideblog, it's time for me to truly become my final form: an unhinged anthropologist with the power to make headcanons to fill in the gaps of life and times in the Lands Between.

Fittingly for a story with intense Christian themes, the early stages of Marika's empire are intensely Roman. As such, I think it's safe to pull ideas from various sites around the Mediterranean. While there's little to no Egyptian influence, or indeed much from the northern edge of Africa period, Elden Ring manages to hit every other point from Spain (Lionel's armor, St. Trina's sword) all the way over to Iraq (Uhl= Ur).

So while figuring out what worship of St. Trina looked like on a wider scale, I've been tempted to utilize the concept of folk saints- saints not approved of or canonized by the Pope, typically having roots in an indigenous culture. While I don't think anything about her directly conflicted with Marika's goals, she's notably worshipped by factions that generally want nothing to do with the Erdtree (albinaurics, merchants).

At the same time though, Miquella and Mohg look like a BLATANT Hades and Persephone reference to me. Hades even wields a spear, and Mohg has set up shop in a distinctly Greek-looking temple. Miquella, flowers and youth and essentially springtime personified, getting kidnapped for marriage by a man who lives in a temple under the earth and has rarely seen the light of day? I can work with that. I can do some insane things with that.

Let's talk Greek mystery cults, and the most famous one of them all: the Eleusinian Mysteries.

As the name implies, historians really don't have a lot to go on when it comes to the content of mystery cults. What happens during initiation stays in initiation, and so on. We can draw a few conclusions based on scattered textual references of guys that broke the oath, but nothing as solid as a playbook of events. We can say this much: there was a very long pilgrimage on foot that included singing and fasting, there was alcohol when they finally got to the destination, and whatever happened beyond the doors of their destination was utterly soul shaking. Mystery cults seemed to rely on the achievement of altered states in order to induce and/or emulate a kind of death and rebirth, which in several cases seems to have outright removed the participant's fear of death after the experience.

Because I am neurodivergent and this hits all of my hyperfixation buttons, I know way too much about agrarian cults of death and rebirth as well as the inducement of altered states, and this would already be prime ground to build headcanons on. But let's talk Eleusis.

Eleusis was a town near Athens where the Eleusinian mysteries took place. These particular mysteries and their initiation were focused around the story of Demeter and Persephone- the horror of Persephone's metaphorical death, the horror of the world beginning to die as Demeter denied the world the fruit of crops in her grief, the relief of a daughter returned coinciding with the relief of famine breaking.

What's interesting about this in the context of Elden Ring is that we have the metaphorical winter, but we don't get any spring. Just the promise of one, eventually, when Miquella returns as a god. In his absence the Haligtree withers, and in his absence his followers languish like abandoned dogs staring at the door. But he never comes home. There is no relief.

Likewise, Trina's entire cult by the time we enter the game seems fixated on "journeying to the underworld"- they are looking for Trina endlessly like Demeter combing the earth for her child, but Trina (like Kore) is nowhere to be found. Not in the land of the living, at least. So we have the preparatory stages of the mysteries- the journey, the mind-altering substances- but without any payoff. Potentially just escalation of both behaviors.

Before Miquella's journey to the Lands of Shadow, I do think Trina was still in communication with her followers, and that she only stopped because she was physically incapable of contacting anyone. So before the Shattering, and particularly before the war in Aeonia, Trina's cult would have had a very much present deity in the same way that Miquella, Malenia, and Marika were all physically available to tend their cults. Not that Malenia wanted hers at all, but nevertheless she had it.

The key difference between Trina and the other Empyreans is that they are being of flesh, and she functions more as a spirit, able to quite literally speak to her followers directly without intercession from priests or bodyguards or the iron wall of classism. She would've been accessible in a way the other Empyreans weren't, which is something particularly of interest since Elden Ring's story kind of metaphorically hinges on the real world events of the rise of Christian monotheism and the subjugation of polytheistic paganism. Part of the reason Christianity became so popular was because anyone could approach God, not just his priests.

Notably, worship of the Erdtree seems more comparable to a kind of imperial cult than a religion fully accessible to the common layman. Your average farmer probably couldn't talk to Marika. Your average farmer probably could talk to a saint though, and Trina might even answer directly.

I am going to have so much fun coming up with weird little rituals for the Church of Cozy In Bed.

[disneyanddisneyships]

💧 DROPLET - random angst headcanon

All of ur ocs

Oh god... this is gonna take a while.

Furcalor: the reason she hates men is because of how she's seen women be treated throughout the centuries, and how before she knew she only liked girls, she made the mistake of dating a guy

Roxxie: she's a kind heart. Always has been. But when she was a kid her mother berated her for it. She was yelled at for being kind to a stray hellhound (maybe a new oc of mine) her mother yelled at her because this is hell and no one should help anyone.

Cordelia: if her parents were to ever meet Chaz, they would probably hate him so much ththey'either order Cordelia not to be with him,, or they'd cut all ties with Cordelia because of him and then make it seem like her fault.

Aella: her divorce was rough as shit. Her husband was a manipulative asshole, and the worst part is that her kid still has to see him on weekends. She cries on those days.

Aponi: the first time she slept with alastor because he was in heat, she thought he loved her because of the things he said to her while they were... ya know.... but later when she saw how he acted around other demons in the colony she overthunk everything so much that she didn't eat for two weeks.

Ella: ella has panic attacks about the war. She will have bad flashbacks of Alistar dying at the same time asEli. Sometimes the nightmares take it a step further when she turns around and sees that everyone has died. She wakes up (or comes back to reality) almost inconsolable most of the time.

Mia: the first time she and loreley got into a fight, she cried so hard because she thought loreley was going to leave her. (Bb girl has abandonment issues)

Alistar: he wanted to bad to contact ella when his father was abusing him because he wanted his best friend back. But the first few times he tried, ella made no effort in return, and he sunk further into madness.

Eli: Eli is very scared that ella will leave him. Every time they get into a small fight he starts crying and apologizes because he doesn't want her to dissapear.

Loreley: she's so so so scared of Mia getting hurt..... it took everything in her in the sequel to even let Mia go on the adventure. Loreley is the daughter of hades, theres people after her. She gets scared that they'd find her one day and use Mia against her.

Deena: Deena's tail used to be a bright blue, and her skin used to be a normal shade. but when she watched her sister die, everything changed. (Think of that one scene in the movie "trolls" where branch just.... gets darker)

Alruna: she almost lost her father in the war. Now she has constant nightmares about it.

Eve: eve carries the burdens of all of her friends. She never accepts help for herself. One day she has a sensory overload breakdown in her shop. Alone.

Clare: even though they bicker and fight, she still loves her brother.... so when he banished her off of his ship it hurt like a bitch. and that's why she stole it from him..... she lives with the thought that he hated her and would never forgive her.

Jacob: while Jacob does like the read, sometimes he just... wants to go be a normal person, pet a dog, hang out with his friends....

Carol: after she got married, she rarely saw her father. One day her father came to visit and he spotted the bruises on her arms and face.... he didn't do anything

Eathan: the day he and Carolyn broke up when they were young was the worst day of his life. He was so in love with her, and she ended it as if it meant nothing. He promised himself he'd wait for her.

Rosalyn: thus bb has abandonment issues. So sometimes when she wakes up alone in the bed and alistar isn't there she'll start to cry because she thought he finally left her. Onky for him to walk in with breakfast in bed for her.

Hope: has anxiety passed down from her parents. (The genetic kind. Wooooo) and she was alone when she had her first anxiety attack.

Caspian: when he found out Clare stole his ship he was livid, but when he found out she didn't come back WITH it? He spent weeks searching for his sister on any island he could find. He never found her.

[godscobhhq]

Hercules from Hercules

Name: Hercules Ariti Age: 28 Profession: Personal Trainer, Volunteer Firefighter Pronouns: He/him FC suggestions: Charles Melton, Alex Aiono, Trevor Jackson Face Claim: Michael Evans Behling Availability: Taken

Hercules has always felt a little lost in life ever since he was a kid. He grew up feeling like he didn't belong and always felt a little different from everybody else around him. He was taller than the other kids, stronger than most boys his age, and had an insatiable desire to people please and help those he felt were in need of help in any way he could with less than desirable results. The thing with Hercules was, he always felt like he was meant for more than the quiet little town he grew up in had to offer. Every opportunity he took to try and make a difference in his little world, always went wrong somehow, and eventually people stopped giving him a chance to try, but he never gave up.

But around the time of his sixteenth birthday he finally learnt the truth as to why he never quite fit in. After a particularly rough day at school which led to young Herc being suspended for getting into a fight with a fellow student and somehow almost destroying the school's entire art department. Hercules's parents decided to tell him the truth about where he came from, and that he wasn't really their son. Everything began to make sense and it was sort of surprising that Herc hadn't clocked onto it much earlier, but clearly he had just always ignored the obvious signs. He wasn't like anybody else in his family, and he looked nothing like either of his parents. A fact that had been brought up many times during his childhood by the meaner kids at school. He had just never thought anything of it. His parents told him that they found him late at night, abandoned and alone. With only a blanket wrapped around his body and a necklace baring a strange family crest neither one of them had ever seen before. They had tried to find out where the boy had come from but nothing every came of their search. Always wanting a child of their own , but never being able to have children, they decided to adopt Hercules, and raise him as their own.

At first his parents were against sending him away. His mother always had a bad feeling about this whole 'destiny' stuff Hercules was always babbling on about, but his father soon convinced her to come around to the idea of letting their son go off in search of himself. Though it took a couple of years. So with the keys to his dad's old jeep, and the family dog Peggy to keep him company, Herc set off in search of the place where he could really feel at home, a place where he could make some real difference, and a place where he could feel like he truly belonged. Which soon led him to the run down town of Godscohb.

After trying a couple of times and failing to do some good in the town at first, something compelled Herc to stay. He wasn't sure why this was, but every time he thought about moving on, something drew him right back. Hercules got a job working at the local gym. The first and only place that would really hire him and it gave Herc an opportunity to help people, in a way, and when that wasn't quite enough heroics for the young man, he began volunteering at the local fire station. Hoping it would give him the chance he needed to really make a difference, and help those in need.

He's now been in town for just over four years and has yet to find a real reason to leave. Not that he feels like he even has a choice. Unbeknownst to young Herc though, this quiet run down little town could lead him to a lot more than just a place to call home.

Notable character information: Hercules is the nephew to mayor Hades Zika but he is unaware of their familial connection. Just like his uncle, who is unaware that Hercules is living and breathing right under his nose.

[pomegranates-and-blood]

Vows (500 Celebration)

500 Celebration Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar/Reader

Prompt: From the Quotes category: “To you even betrayal can sound like a vow.”

Word Count: 5083 (😬)

Warnings: My writing (I haven’t written anything worth posting for Ivar in ages, it is worth warning that this is probably very OOC or just plain bad). The usual warnings associated with Ivar. Abduction/forced marriage topics. Angst disguised as fluff. Lying, I guess, if that counts as a warning. Greek/Byzantine Reader. My inability to keep the plot and characterizations of Nostalgia from bleeding into the rest of my work. By extension, Hades/Persephone themes.

A/N: So, one of the AUs that I have always wanted to write for Nostalgia was Praxidice (you can find the reason behind the name and a snippet in the  AU’s masterlist right here),  but I never quite got into writing it as a fully-fledged series, and I’ve always had these scattered thoughts about  scenes in this AU. I have recently come to the realization that I can actually just write and post what I want lol, so I’ll be writing those scenes as drabbles, and yeah, here  I am.

You obviously don’t need to read the monstrosity that is Nostalgia (over 230k words and counting ffs), this just happens to have the Reader character from that series and some plot elements, but it deviates pretty early on (Ch8), so you won’t miss anything.

Sorry, this is entirely too long, both this author’s note and this piece, and I took entirely too long to post something new. I’m working on that, but it takes time, I’m rusty.

Anyhow, I had a lot of fun writing this, and I like this AU so much (not at all because Ivar being lied to about being loved is a thing I am apparently obsessed with, what do you mean?). And also, the weird ass way this dude acted when he met Freydis in Kattegat lives rent free in my head, because while it is almost endearing, it has the potential of being terrifying if you know who he is/what he is capable of; and I tried working a bit of that into the beginning of this piece, hope it isn’t too bad.

Sorry for the ramble!

You walk inside, and try not flinching at the sound of the doors closing behind you as the guards escorting you leave you alone with Ivar. You haven’t been here before, this spacious place of dimly lit fires and candles, this room of wood and furs bereft of anything to speak of life.

It feels cold to you. Everything in this kingdom does, even the people, but this room feels the coldest to you. And you gather it is because your very heart shudders in its slow beats when you realize where this room leads, when you understand why the guards that follow you like dogs since Ivar brought you to his kingdom in chains stopped at the door.

They led you -he ordered them to lead you- to his room. Past the arch you can almost see up ahead you imagine you’ll enter the section where his bed is, and dread churns at your stomach.

Dread and something else, something that poisons you all the more, something that hurts all the more. Because when you first met him, when you refused to give him your name or acknowledge his in some old hut in a besieged Saxon city but still met with him day after day, you thought -foolishly, childishly, helplessly- that you could trust him; and now betrayal lodges itself in your chest, right next to your heart, and it sends pangs of pain each time fear of this new place and dread of its mad king make your heart quicken its beat.

But none of that matters now, the past does not matter any longer. And neither does the future, neither does what your worst thoughts warn you is to happen past that damn arch in that damn bed. Because try as you might to pretend otherwise, you do not have a choice.

You do not have a choice but to be here, and so you are. You do not have a choice but to step forward to meet Kattegat’s King, and so, after a deep breath, you do.

He smiles at you when you walk to him, when you make yourself seen. Strange, really, since you both know he heard you walk in, and heard the silence that came after as you battled dread by the closed door.

But still he smiles. A rushed, somewhat insincere smile. But not insincere in its coldness, or its cruelty, no. Insincere because it trembles on his lips as he stands taller to greet you, because even as he smiles his eyes give away something boyish, something like nervousness.

For some reason it unsettles you all the more, and you can do nothing but stare back, saying nothing, giving nothing. It is unnerving, to find humanity in him, to find it bared so foolishly, so carelessly, so helplessly; when you find it so much easier to think he lacks such humanity, such vulnerability, in the first place.

Ivar clears his throat, and motions with the hand not on the crutch for the table where food awaits you.

You do not move. You know an order when you see one, and you know it takes a very special kind of stupid to ignore Ivar the Boneless’ commands, but still you do not move.

“I have been thinking of what I’ll tell the people about you.” He starts simply, as if this is but another conversation you shared on that city that smelled of despair.

“You dragged me to your home in chains. I’d gather they can put together the rest if they are too curious about what brought me here.”

“They are curious about you. You are-…”

“Just another prisoner.”

You know it irks him when you remind him of what he made of you, and you have a feeling it is because he knows it makes him your jailor.

There’s a refreshing harshness in his eyes when he meets your gaze now, a clear tell of gritted teeth when he clarifies, “A foreigner.”

It is enough for you to have forced him to once again on this pointless battle even if for a moment, to have reminded him of what he has done even if he wants to pretend it never happened to try and escape the consequences of it; and so you only shrug.

Your eyes remain on him, though, studying him. You linger on the way he stands tall by that table set with elaborate foods, shoulders squared and pride coiling on his spine, and wonder if he is hoping you are impressed by this display; you linger on the way he grasps with his free hand at the iron encasing his right leg to approach the table, and wonder why when you have seen him walk without needing to before.

You linger on the way he is acting so unnaturally mellowed, attempting such artificial charm, and wonder, not for the first time, if you have actually managed to understand the reason why he insists on arguing he never made you a slave, a prisoner. You wonder if he is attempting some sort of normalcy in your meeting, if he is expecting you to play the part of a woman willingly spending her time with him.

You once were that, though, you once were willingly spending your time with him, allowing yourself to foolishly trust him, but he couldn’t handle the possibility of not being in control of it all, the possibility that one day you may choose not to spend your evenings with him any longer; so he took your choice from you.

And now he seems to expect nothing to change, he seems to want to return to what was before, now certain he holds control tightly in the same hand with which he holds invisible chains still set on you.

As if he could hear your thoughts, as if he could sense realization dawning on you, he confirms your suspicion by gesturing with his free hand once he sits by that table and prompting,

“Have dinner with me.”

“I thought-…your people dine in the great hall.”

“Not tonight. Not us, anyways.”

You move limbs of lead to sit on that chair, eyes still on him, trailing over his features, lingering on the movements of his hand when he pours you a drink. At the tip of your tongue are demands of honesty about what he wants out of you, about why he chose to take you here against your will instead of asking, about anything other than this strange domesticity, but he speaks before you have a chance to.

“Just a man and a woman sharing a meal, nothing more, hm?” Ivar presses, gesturing to the plate in front of you again, ordering you to eat. To play along.

You bite back words about how once you might have been just a man and a woman to one another in that besieged city, and it was nothing more than a shared meal the many times you at by low fires with him and ate and talked until your eyes threatened to fall closed; but now…now it cannot be, not anymore, not since he captured you like who does an exotic beast and brought you to his cold home.

But that isn’t what he wants to hear, and while you never feared his rage, aware from the beginning of how easily prone to anger he was and yet never hesitating to push him; now, facing this brittle calm, this staining certainty, this eager unpredictability, you cannot rid yourself of something quite close to fear.

So instead of arguing, you agree to the unspoken rules, and you reach for a piece of cheese on the table, taking a bite and swallowing before you quip,

“A Greek Priestess and a Viking King, why would I dare think this is anything but ordinary?”

He smiles at that, a softer smile, almost crooked, but less performative than before, more honest, and your foolish heart does this strange little thing in your chest when you earn the same smile you did when you first met him.

“What would make this ordinary for you?”

“Stone walls, the warmth of the sun, speaking in my own tongue.” You list out, before taking a sip of mead, looking at him over the rim of your goblet, making note of the slight softening of his features as he notices you are playing along, keeping up with him even if only in this small interaction.

“Teach me your language, then,” He orders without hesitation, leaning forward, elbows on the table. At your answering look, he shrugs, a downward curve of his mouth in a gesture of indifference before he clarifies, “Stone is expensive, and I do not yet command the sun. We will speak in your tongue then.”

“Your people already suspect me a witch, Viking,” You remind him, letting slip the title you used on him before, when you pretended not to know who he was, when of you he knew your secrets but not your name. Steeling yourself against the foolish way you let down your guard, you forgot of what brought you here, you continue, a tad more reserved now, “If their King starts speaking in another tongue, they’ll see their suspicions proven right.”

“You care what they say about you?”

“Don’t you? Have you heard what they say about me?” You ask instead, eyebrows raised, almost a dare.

“Have you heard what they say about me?” He retorts, rueful smile curving at his lips, the same dare shining in his eyes.

You concede to his point with a reluctant smile of your own, taking another sip of the sweet drink.

“Yet you made of yourself something far greater than the things they may whisper you are,” Because your stomach churns at the mere idea of giving praise to the man that lied to you, that betrayed you, that chained you; you add, “Now you have even made yourself the captor of a Greek witch. They are sure to be impressed.”

“I didn’t bring you here because of them.” He argues, once again giving away something in that strange way of his, unwillingly yet almost confrontationally. And your eyes narrow as you cannot help but think, almost accusingly, almost pityingly, just how many things have you done because of them, because of what you want them to think of you?

“Why did you bring me here then?” You ask, a colder edge to your voice that you do not care about hiding. “You promised me my freedom, you said I would be free to go, yet you brought me to this town and left me alone for days, followed around by those brutes. I think you owe me the tr-…”

“You still think you are in a place to make demands, don’t you?” He interrupts, a mocking edge to his chuckle and an anger he doesn’t bother hiding rising his voice, giving an edge to his words. After a few moments of silence, he offers, irritated, as if you are the one in the wrong, “I promised you freedom and I do not break promises. You are a free woman, but I have to keep you here.”

“Why?” You ask, the question leaving your lips in a tired breath. “What difference is there between now and when you had iron chains to my wrists?”

“Because you now know I didn’t bring you here with the intention to make you a slave.”

This is madness. He is mad and this entire situation is sure to drive you mad as well soon. You force yourself to take a deep breath, and instead of butting heads with him for any longer, you instead ask,

“What then? A witch? A healer?” You press, because you will probably surprise the Gods themselves the day you learn to shut your mouth.

For a few breaths he stays silent, and you are reaching for the goblet again -not too bothered about drinking yourself numb if this madness intends to continue- when Ivar answers,

“A wife.”

Your chest tightens, as if an unseen smoke has clouded your lungs, and your breath quicken so sharply that you have to force yourself to control your breathing, force yourself to focus on nothing but regular breaths in and out.

Still, your eyes, widened at the realization of what Ivar wants to make out of you, stinging with the fear that has haunted you since you were a child, follow him,

“Wh-What are you talking about?”

“I will make you my wife.”

A nervous laugh that sounds manic and uneven to your own ears leaves your lips, heaves your chest.

Dragging your hands over your face, you mutter a quiet, “This is madness,” Before turning back to him and asking, almost pleading, “I don’t-…why do you-…why?”

“You have already been given to me, Priestess,” He tells bluntly you past the clear tell of gritted teeth, with an entitlement that surprises you even though it shouldn’t, considering how you got here. “I am not asking.”

“And I haven’t given an answer,” Because you haven’t done anything but demand, are the words you save, letting the half-truth serve as a reassurance even if you do not mean it. And leaning closer even if all you think of doing is running away, you press, “After everything, don’t you think you owe me the truth?”

“I was born cursed, you know.”

That was certainly not the explanation you were expecting.

“What?”

“I was born a cripple, and all…all my life I have been in pain. I can’t even walk properly; everything has been a…a damn struggle. With myself, with others,” A twitch of anger curls at his lip for a moment, furrows at his nose, and you wonder if the anger is at himself. He continues, “So I have always been so angry, so jealous of everyone around me. And I…don’t know how to be any other way,” It seems that only after a breath he realizes of what he has said, of how quiet his voice has become, and he looks away with a huff of what once would have been a bitter chuckle. You wish you were someone else, or he was, so you could tell him not to dismiss truths he gave away with a scoff, not to retreat back when faced with silence at the baring of a wound. But before you can be someone else, or he can, Ivar meets your gaze again, faint smile on his lips. The bitterness is still there, as is the resentfulness at Fate, as is the grief of something never had, and you understand that smile more than any other. Ivar continues, “Nothing has come easy in my life, and since I was a child I have asked the Gods why.”

And they never answered, did they?

You too asked the same thing, to different Gods or perhaps just uttering different names, but you too asked the same thing; and you cannot help the part of you that wants to offer truth, that wants to stretch out a hand and say something honest, something that when you were just a woman and he was just a man in some cabin in Wessex, you would have said.

But not now, because you remind yourself that he is, beyond anything after what he has done, your enemy, your captor. And you refuse to offer him anything truer than whatever it is he deluded himself into wanting out of you.

So instead you offer something less human than truth, and you whisper,

“I don’t have an answer, Ivar.”

But an answer wasn’t what he expected from you apparently, for he shakes his head with a small smile so reminiscent of the almost soft look he had before, when he was just a Viking and you just a Priestess, that it hurts at some foolish part of your heart.

“No,” He argues, more softly than you would have ever thought a man like him to be capable of, leaning forward, as close as he can get to you from where he sits. Pale blue eyes look into yours, and you’d think he is the one searching for answers and not you from the way he seems to seek something in your gaze. Quietly, he sentences, “You are the answer.”

The coldness of this land returns to you as if you had jumped -or were thrown- into freezing waters, and your breath catches in your throat as you lean back in your seat.

“You aren’t-…that doesn’t make any sense.”

If he hears you, he shows no sign of it.

“I was once told that the Gods mark us for pain, that some of us are…chosen to suffer, to be pushed to the ground, over and over again,” His head moves with his words, gaze deviating to the side before he leans forward, meeting your wide eyes again. “To test if we endure. And I did, I still do. I have done much more than any of my brothers, than any man my people know, ever did. I give Odin and Freyja warriors to take to their halls and wars to rejoice in,” You aren’t so sure anymore that it is only you he is attempting to convince that this isn’t madness. Regardless, he continues, “And I understand now, that when we become what the Gods expect of us, when we…endure, we are rewarded,” A small smile curves at his lips soft even if manic, “The Gods have sent you to me.”

“I don’t…I don’t follow your Gods, they…they have no power over me.”

“That does not matter. It was Fate that you and I met,” He explains without hesitation. “It is Fate that you remain at my side, however I choose to have you.”

All air leaves your lungs in a shuddering gasp that sounds like a death rattle to your own ears, the cold of this land seeping into your very bones and taking from you the last of the spring and life of your homeland you kept with you.

And the woman you know you are supposed to be is screaming that you demand to know why he thinks Gods you do not worship would send you to him, why he think his Norns are to rule over your Moirai and decide your Fate instead.

But the woman you are supposed to be is suffocated, extinguished, under the weight of all this madness, of the coldness of this place, of the death of your home.

And left behind in the wake of the life that will not be, that cannot be, all you hear are the echoes of the life that led you here.

Many years ago, the Seer spoke to me about you, you know, Sieghild told you one day, when you were still a child, still learning the ways of the world, still enjoying the freedom of belonging nowhere, to no one. A part of you wanted to tell her that you did not care about what her Gods had to say about you, but you couldn’t help the curiosity, and so you stayed silent, waiting. Unaware, you think now, of how her words, her prophecy, would haunt you for the rest of your life, he told me that I will return home with you; when the throne is empty, when the witch reigns, when the temple burns. It is Fate, little one.

You always argued with your mother that it wasn’t Fate what made such prophecies come true, but people’s blind belief in them, their resignment to their inescapabilty weaving those words into the threads of their Fate.

And realization dawns on you, crushing your chest with the pressure of it and forcing the words past your lips in a whisper,

“Sieghild is the one who told you my name, who I was.”

“She didn’t.” He argues, but it isn’t a denial of having met your mother, and that is enough of a confirmation, enough of a sentencing.

“But she did meet with you,” You state, not waiting for an argument, not sure what you will do if he chooses to lie now, unwilling to hear from him the truth. Still, your voice betrays you and you push, “My mother gave me away to you, not that Christian.”

“She said it was Fate that you were…left to me.”

Venom clogs your throat, an anger older than you can remember makes your hands tremble as you close them into fists on your lap, a hollowness you remember from when Sieghild first took you with her away from Greece returns to your chest at her abandonment; and for all that you are, all that you believe, you want to retort to his certainty, to her betrayal, to their certainty in Fate, with denial, with anger, with…with something alive.

But there is nothing alive left, not here, not in this kingdom of iron and coldness, not far from the Roads you once made your home; and even your Gods have no life to offer you now, with the Persephone not far from her descent now and her mother not far from her grief as winter approaches.

And there is nothing left to give life to the woman you ought to be.

Survive, until spring comes.

With your mother’s last words echoing in your mind, with her advice finding a home somewhere in the hollowness her abandonment left in your chest; you lift your gaze to meet Ivar’s pale eyes.

Sieghild would have never parted from you with such an order if she didn’t count on you to understand its meaning, she would have never left you alone without a plan to have you reunited with her.

You will only survive Kattegat for the winter if you have Ivar, you aren’t yet proud or blind enough to believe otherwise, and you know…you know you will only survive leaving Kattegat once spring comes if Ivar is blinded enough not to see your betrayal, your escape, coming.

“My mother often spoke of this, you know. Of you,” You tell him, reminding yourself that spring is merely half a year away to keep the waver from your voice. “I just didn’t understand at the time. She was told by your Seer that she would bring me here, I just…never believed her.”

This time it is him who draws back, though he catches himself before doing so completely, and remains hunched over the table you share, searching your gaze for a question he isn’t asking. You notice the way his shoulders are rising and falling slightly faster with his quicker breaths. His breathing give him away, it has since the beginning.

He wants to believe you. You know he does, and you’d venture to say he knows you are lying, just as he knows what he is pretending to be convinced of is madness. But he wants to believe, and you finally understand what you were once told about blind men and those who do not want to see.

In the short time you have known him, you have learned to think of him and think of an open wound, think of all the times you worked on healing an exposed nerve, a fresh wound, and with but a sweep of wind over the tender flesh, in more instinct than anything else, you earned anger and threats, and frantic hands pushing you away to keep themselves from the pain of such injury being revisited.

And that is what he is, at the end of it; at least to you. Exposed nerves giving way to anger at the slightest push, a beast snarling in a tongue you do not understand for you to keep away lest you bring pain, an open wound. But it is also something else, it is a shiver running down his spine at the slightest tender touch, it is restless hope in the hope the outstretched hand brings reprieve and not pain, it is…a weakness.

“So you’ll do it? You’ll marry me?” You swallow past the knot in your throat and nod your head, but Ivar is shaking his, “No. Say it.”

Strangely, it reminds you of the way he stood there, welcoming you to have dinner with him, the way he started a casual conversation while the marks of his chains still lingered on your wrists; for this feels like making you agree aloud to marrying him is but another way for him to fulfill the desire for something real while holding onto control.

Still, you smile and whisper, “Yes. I will marry you, Ivar.”

You wouldn’t notice it if you weren’t so close, if you weren’t looking for it, but you notice the way the tension coiling around his shoulders loosens, the way his expression, almost as if he cannot help it, softens at your words.

To you even betrayal can sound like a vow, you cannot help but think.

You let your hand creep closer, and intertwining your fingers with his would feel like a greater betrayal to yourself than this lie, so instead you let the tips of your fingers trace the back of his hand almost absently, almost as if the touch is mindless. Almost as if you don’t realize the way his breath hitches at the soft caress.

“It has always been my Fate, even when I ran from it, even when I ignored it, to come here, to…meet you, Ivar,” Your voice is quiet, and your smile is soft, you make sure of it, as you add, venom hidden in a jest, “I am not so certain my Fate is to marry you, but…”

“Marrying you would-...it will be...real, once we are married. I want to make you my wife,” It is the most honest truth he has given yet, and still you have a feeling you could draw on the sand the strategy of attack and defense of this conversation as easily as you drew those of the battle for Eleusis. You smile, pretending endearment, and nod your head, a quiet murmur of I know being the only answer you can give. His voice is low, almost hesitant as he offers, “You can ask me for anything you want.”

I want to belong nowhere, to no one, you want to tell him. But you can’t, you won’t.

Instead you do what is easier, even if some foolish part of your heart breaks at your choice, even if with each beat of what is left of it the shard betrayal left embedded in your chest makes the pain all the worse. You do what is easier, and you stand up.

“I want only one thing.”

Taking a step closer, you let one of your hands venture bravely to reach for him, settling somewhere on his shoulder, before lowering just enough to settle over his heart. It isn’t what you want, but it is what he wants you to want.

Pretending you don’t feel his eyes frantically searching yours, studying your face, trying to find certainty in the madness your closeness inspires, trying to find answers to questions he is too proud to ask; you move to settle yourself on his lap, knees on either side of his iron-encased legs, hand still resting proudly, perhaps possessively, over the center of his chest.

You meet the frantic blue of his eyes, and for all the times you found yourself foolishly lost in his gaze before it is easy to pretend now that you lose your breath and your mind to the moment your eyes meet.

But that is all there is: pretending. For you now know, as you were forced to learn when he put chains on your wrists and dragged you to his kingdom, that you cannot trust him, that you cannot lower your guard around him. That he is, despite what you once thought, your captor, a monster.

You would think you ought to feel as if you are watching closely at a predator’s movements, trying to predict the moment it will strike, but now you find yourself facing a beast quietened, meeting the gaze of a monster that out of all things was made to crave softness.

Telling yourself all that pushes you is the desire to survive, you kiss him.

He stills under your touch, so suddenly and so compulsorily that a pang of fear makes its way to your heart, but you do the only thing you can. You reach with trembling hands to hold him against you, one hand grasping at the cloth over his chest while the other reaches up to cup the side of his face to lure him into leaning into your kiss, to prompt him to give in.

It is tentative, clearly laced with inexperience, the way he first attempts to kiss you back, jittery movements as he moves his lips against yours, as he parts them to let you deepen the kiss.

Just shy of doing so, for just a moment, you pull back, to allow yourself this one small indulgence, and give yourself but a breath to admire him.

Ivar leans forward when you pull back, unwilling to part from your kiss, seemingly as bewitched by your touch as the people whisper he is, and the sight of his handsome face relaxed in the closest thing you have seen to the openness that comes with trust sends a pang of something through you, a heat that makes your heart stutter, a pain that stings at a part of you already dead.

You let yourself linger there, in that shared breath, brows almost pressed together, and allow yourself an honest smile, however small, when his eyes finally flutter open to look at you.

Quietly, you prompt, “Kiss me?”

And he does. Without hesitation, without doubting either you or himself.

It’s hunger, hunger laced with something else, something like hesitance. It’s uncertain movements of his lips against yours as he tentatively returns your kiss, yet strong hands fiercely, almost forcefully, holding you against him.

It’s a man that promised you anything you wanted when you lied about being certain you were sent to him by the Gods, and yet a man that chose to betray and chain you before giving you a chance to refuse him.

And that leaves you no chance to be the woman that would have said yes to following him to this kingdom of death if he had only asked, and yet the woman that will leave him when spring comes, and take his heart with her.

Thank you for reading! I hope this was alright! I’m sorry if it was too confusing for people that haven’t read Nostalgia, or too boring for people who have. I tried my best to balance the two.

And yeah, the “Kiss me?” from her was 100% me feeling nostalgia for Nostalgia and wanting to put a little flip on the scene of their first kiss. Couldn’t help it.

Tbh, I wanna write more for this AU, but idk how to go about posting it, so I’d love to hear your thoughts to decide how to go forward. Idk if I should keep Nostalgia and all its AUs separate from this 500 thingies, or if it’s alright to mix them with prompts and post the Praxidice drabbles as a part of this. I just don’t want it to be confusing, or post something in a general masterlist that isn’t clear or fun to read for people that aren’t familiar with Nostalgia, y’know? Would love to know your thoughts, cause I don’t really know what to do here. Thank you!

500 taglist: @youbloodymadgenius​ @xbellaxcarolinax​ @1950schick​ @ietss​ @peachyboneless​ @encounterthepast​ @maggiescarborough​ @fae-sedai​ @zuxiezendler​ @crazybunnyladysworld​​ @stupiddarkkside​​ @northumbria​​ @sagyunaro​ @aprilivar​​

Ivar taglist: @yourwonkywriter​​​​

[sinner-as-saint]

The Unseen.

Hades!Bucky x Reader AU

Run-through: Your father is forcing a profitable marriage proposal upon you. Unwilling to endure such a thing, you run away from home and deep into some unknown woods. Naturally, your father sends his people to find you and bring you home, but this causes you to run deeper into the woods to a point where it feels like you’re not even in the same world anymore. Though fatigued; mentally, emotionally and physically, you manage to find shelter. You stumble upon a mysterious, handsome stranger. The God of the Underworld is baffled upon seeing you because it has been millennia since a mortal entered his dark, forlorn kingdom. And it’s been even longer since he felt something for someone… 

Themes: hades!bucky, fluff, angst, smut, 

You staggered through the woods. 

Holding on to whatever you could find to help you keep your balance, and not fall flat on your face. You had been on the run for days now; running from your tyrant father and his people, running from a marriage proposal which was being forced upon you, running from the only place you called home. You wondered, was it really home? 

You were currently deep into the woods. Famished, dehydrated, sleep deprived, your body covered in small cuts, bruises, insect bites and scratches. Your clothes were soiled. You could barely hold yourself up, but you had to get as far away as possible. 

This part of the woods was so dense that the sunlight barely got through. There was more fog around you than sunlight. Actually, you could no longer tell what time it was. Perhaps it was not daytime. 

Your throat burned, your tears had dried, your stomach rumbled in hunger; you were miserable. Your heart hurt at the thought of your mother; you had to leave her behind as well. You missed her, terribly. 

You walked on, and a while later you felt the ground beneath your feet get more soft and damp. Your senses were alert. There must be a water body close by, you thought. You rushed forward, and let out a raspy sigh of relief when you saw the cool, slow-moving river which snaked around the large trees. You could just tell by the sight of it that it’s water must be ice cold. The thick fog condensed and danced above it. It looked mystical. Too good to be true. 

You rushed to the river, kneeling by the side of it and picking up handfuls of water and drinking to satiate your thirst. You cleaned yourself as best you could - getting rid of all the dirt and muck from your face, and limbs and clothes. 

You felt at ease for the first time in the past days. You got up and sat back down at the river bank for a while, feeling light and almost comfortable even though you were all alone inside a dense and cold, and dark forest. You chuckled at how much safer you felt here compared to back at your father’s house. 

A minute later, you tensed up when you heard distant animal sounds. You panicked and took off running; deeper into the woods. You found yourself running alongside the river. You didn’t have a plan, you didn’t know where you were headed, but you knew you had to keep going. You couldn’t have your father finding you again and dragging you back home to marry whoever he chose for you just so he could profit off of it and expand his businesses; you refused to be a pawn in his games

You ran, stumbled, fell and stood up again. For hours. And just when you felt like you were about to pass out from fatigue again, you noticed a gate in front of you. It looked rusty and old, with dead vine all over it, surrounded in fog. You couldn’t see past it but something told you that once you’d get past it, everything would be alright. 

So you did. You pushed open the gate and stepped into what seemed to be a poorly kept, dying garden. Though disorganized, and unkept; it felt almost familiar. It felt like coming home. You looked further and saw what seemed like an abandoned, dark manor, almost as grand as a castle. The whole thing looked like an old, forgotten private property. 

“Help…” you called out with the little energy you had left. You doubted anyone lived here, but you called out anyways, just in case. “Help!” you called out again, falling to your knees on the rough ground. 

And right before passing out, you heard something getting closer and closer. It sounded like it was galloping… several of them. Horses? In here? 

Your eyes rolled back as you could no longer hold yourself up. You saw something approach you. Your blurry vision picked up on a tall, dark figure approaching. Whatever that was, it caught you right before your body fell to the ground. 

It was a man. Even in your insensible state, you could feel the dominant, strong, virile aura surrounding him. 

His low voice was the last thing you heard before you gave in to the darkness, “...I’ve got you, my love. You’re home now...” 

---

The god stood at the entry of the spacious bedroom, in the middle of which was a large bed, upon which you laid; comfortable, but still unconscious. 

Hands stuffed in his pockets as he leaned against the doorframe, he contemplated. Everything. He doesn’t remember the last time he had something so beautiful, and alive, inside the walls of his dark and dangerous kingdom. 

He wondered where you come from. Who were you running from? Why did you cry for help? How did you find the Underworld? The moment he saw you first entering his kingdom, he thought that you might be a lost, wandering soul. But then when his hands touched you, he felt your warmth and realized that you were very much alive. 

If you had made it through the entire woods to get here then you must be stronger and more courageous than you look, he thought. 

He stepped closer so he could hear your soft breaths. So full of life… he thought. Whatever it was that you were running from, he made a decision to protect you from it. He felt the urge to wrap his arms around you and shelter you, keep you safe forever. Why so? He didn’t know. He had never been so attached to mortals before. He barely even met any of them. 

But you… you walked right into his kingdom, and now you were making him feel things he had never felt before. 

The god had always been alone. He never quite had company, and he stayed as far away as possible from his dysfunctional family. So having you here was new, but also something he didn’t know he needed so badly. 

“Who are you, pretty human?” he whispered as he lovingly caressed your cheek while you slept. He had healed all your cuts and bruises the moment he picked you up in his arms, and placed you in his chariot. Now he was just waiting for you to wake up so he could talk to you. 

He couldn’t wait to meet you. 

---

You woke up to loud, warm puffs of air fanning your face. You peeled your eyes open, expecting a headache but there wasn’t one, what you did find though was a fairly large, mean and dangerous looking three-headed dog with shiny black fur standing beside you, on the bed, looking down at you with tongues hanging out of each of its mouths and wagging its tail so hard that its body moved side to side along with it in excitement.  

Your eyes widened even in the slightly hazy headspace, you almost took off running again but your body refused to get up from the comfy bed and then you saw the playful look in all three pairs of eyes and you immediately calmed down. 

“Hello there...” You whispered as you squinted and reached out to pet it. You gave it soft scratches behind the ears and under the chins and it immediately tackled you with wet kisses. You squealed and chuckled as you sat up, trying to escape the adorable monster. 

Maybe you had died? You thought to yourself as you kept petting the dog once it calmed down. Perhaps you were in some sort of after life, hallucinating about a three-headed while wearing a very vintage-y black gown with long, puffy sleeves; and sat in the middle of the softest bed ever inside what seemed to be a chamber fit for a Queen. 

“Am I dead?” You asked the three-headed animal. It didn’t answer, obviously so you tried to dig your memory to find something which would explain how you ended up where you are right now. All three heads laid on your lap, as you lazily pet them while thinking; you remembered running… deep, deep into the forest… you remember being tired, so tired you felt like you were about to pass out… wait you did pass out! In the garden. The dark garden, with the horses and the tall man. 

You gasped as you heard a voice, not far from you, answering your previously asked question. “No you’re not. Surprisingly.” 

Upon hearing the voice, the dog got up from the bed and immediately ran to the man who had just spoken. You got up from the bed too confused and nervous, standing and watching him cautiously as you took in the man’s appearance. Your heart raced the more he stared into your eyes with his deep, stormy ocean blue ones. 

He could easily be classified as one of the most handsome men you had ever seen. Tall, dark and dangerous; dark hair, dark suit, dark shoes, dark rings on his fingers. He looked like dominance and power personified. A rugged, intimidating alpha male with sophisticated charm. Icy eyes with a fiery look in them. 

He looked like a god. 

When you finally got over the beautiful man, you realized what he had just said. “What do you mean, surprisingly?” you were aware that this was the same man who had answered to your cry for help earlier so you were trying your best to be polite. 

The sound of your voice made his cold, frozen heart race. “You’re not dead. Just in the realm of it.” He spoke, confusing you even more. “You’re in the Underworld. My Kingdom.” 

You frowned, thinking hard on what he had just said. Wait a minute… you looked down and saw the three-headed dog sitting obediently at his feet, very much well-behaved. You looked back up at the handsome stranger and stuttered while getting your words out. “You can’t… you can’t be real.” This wasn’t a dream? 

He flashed you a lovely smile. “Really? Why not?” 

You looked around, panicking again. This can’t be real. This can’t be real. This can’t be real. “Because you’re a myth. You… you don’t exist. You’re not supposed to.” 

He almost chuckled. “And yet, here I am. Forgotten by most mortals, yes. But still very much real.” He took small steps forward as he spoke. You found his voice to be calming, soothing.

“Hades?” you couldn’t believe it. You had heard stories about him at school, read about him in books but never in a million years would you have even for a moment considered that he could be real. 

“The one and only.” He answered, looking down at his feet to find his beloved dog looking up at him. “You’ve met Cerberus already.” 

Hades. God of the Underworld. That sitting at his feet was the Guardian, the ultimate Hellhound. How can this be real life? Anyone else would’ve freaked out upon finding all this out, but you remained surprisingly calm. “You look… I mean, aren’t you supposed to be… you know-,”

He finished your sentence with an amused look on his face. “Bearded? Crowned? Carrying a pitchfork? Riding in a chariot?” 

You nodded. 

“Well, you mortals aren’t the only ones who evolve every now and then. Us gods, although more or less forgotten, have to keep up as well, don’t we?” 

You smiled faintly but it disappeared as quickly as it came. 

You were still a little anxious, and you fidgeted with your fingers. He noticed and walked up to you. Without a word said, he reached out and gently held both your hands in his large ones. He spoke up again, “I know you’re a little nervous. I expect you to be, given the circumstances but I assure you, you’re safe here.” He said, softly. 

You looked deep into his icy, sharp eyes which despite their intensity managed to provide you with a sense of comfort; effortlessly. Who would’ve known that the God of the Underworld could be so gentle? 

“Thank you for helping me.” Your voice was barely above a whisper but he heard it alright given he was so close to you. He squeezed your hands a little, as if to say ‘You’re welcome.’ Your hands fit in his perfectly, you noticed. He stood just a feet away from you and you could feel the power radiating off of him. 

He smiled gently. “If I may ask, how did you end up so deep into the woods that you stumbled upon my Kingdom? What are you running from?” He wanted to figure this out since the moment he saw you. 

“My father.” 

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Why is that?” 

“He wanted to marry me off to a business associate's son so he can profit off the alliance and expand his own businesses. I refused, repeatedly. But then I found out that he was planning to forcefully fly me out somewhere, to marry the same guy. So I took off. I ran from home, and didn't tell anyone where I was going.” You exhaled shakily. “And now I’m here.” 

He nodded, slowly and calmly as he hid his utter disgust at the mention of you almost becoming someone else’s wife. 

He noticed how you started tearing up while speaking of your cruel father, so he simply pulled you closer and tucked your head under his chin while running a soothing hand down your back. His arms wrapped around you in a safe embrace. You felt the cool material of his suit against your flushed face as he held you close. He smelt amazing. You wrapped your own arms around him, feeling his taut body beneath the material of his suit. 

You hadn’t been hugged in a long time, so you started tearing up even more, until you began letting out little sobs. He tightened his grip around you, pressing you against his muscular torso. “Shh, my angel. It’s alright. I’m here now. You’re safe.” 

You held back a sob, your voice cracking as you spoke, “But if… if he finds me, he will…” 

The god pulled away a little, his hand reaching up to gently cup your face and tilt it back so he could look into your teary eyes. “He won’t find you here. I will keep you safe, don’t worry.” He wiped the fresh tears which escaped your eyes. 

You were once again lost in his eyes, just now noticing the flares of grey in them. You were both caught in the moment, when you heard a low whine. It was the adorable monster who had managed to get in between your bodies. You looked down and cracked a little smile. 

“Of course, Cerberus will keep you safe too.” 

---

You and the god had quite a long conversation leading up to dinner. A conversation often interrupted by a certain three-headed dog’s constant need for attention from either one of you. 

You learnt a lot about the one whose Kingdom you were in. You found out that he’s been here forever. Despite being dark, cold and barren you could tell he loved his realm more than anything. 

You had to ask him about Persephone and he had you surprised when he told you that unfortunately their relationship didn’t last long and that she left him for good shortly after they got married. 

You also found out that those closest to him call him ‘Bucky.’ And that his one true friend has always been the hell-hound and guardian of the Underworld, who also was currently asleep at your feet. 

“Doesn’t it get lonely?” you asked, watching him from across the grand dinner table. 

He took a sip of his wine, never breaking eye contact with you. “Not anymore.” he answered and you melted. 

Over dinner, you spoke some more. Then he noticed you got all quiet. Damn it, he cursed. This was the moment he had been dreading all day. 

“You miss your home.” He wasn’t asking, simply stating. He noticed how you pushed your food around on your plate. You weren’t as curious to know about his kingdom anymore, you weren’t chatty; just quiet all of a sudden. He missed the sound of your voice. 

Home… “Not home, no. Just my mother. Sometimes I feel like she’s the only parent who’s ever truly loved me.” 

He could feel the pain in your voice. But some of the rules of the Underworld were such that even he couldn’t bend them. “You know I cannot let you leave.” 

You had that bit figured out the moment you found out who he was. “I know.” 

He was surprised by how calm you were. “You… don’t ardently wish to go back home?” 

You looked up from your plate and at his handsome face. “Going home would mean that I’d have to face my father. Now that I’ve been gone for so long, upon seeing me he’d either obliterate me or drag me down the aisle and marry me off against my will. I prefer none of those things. As for my mom, I do miss her but she’ll survive. She’s a strong woman.” 

The god listened, leaning back in his seat; very much at ease in your company. “And what about you?” 

“What about me?” 

“What do you want?” 

You cracked a little smile. Or perhaps it was a smirk. You mimicked his body language, leaning back in your seat as well. You twirled the wine around in your glass. “For now, I want to be away from my family. I feel safe here. I don’t want to leave.” 

He found himself wanting that as well. 

---

You woke up the next morning to a sight which made you chuckle. No, it wasn’t an overly excited Cerberus. It was breakfast, along with a generous serving of pomegranates. 

You ate it all up. Then set out to find the god after you got dressed and ready for the day. Somehow, everything one could need could be found in the large closets found in the room you slept in. You had only been here for a little while but you settled in just right. 

You walked along a shadowy corridor. Bucky had given you a tour yesterday, hence you knew that this path led to the throne room. And that’s where he was; manspreading on his throne, wine glass in one of his hands while the other lazily stroked his beloved three-headed guardian; who sat by the feet of his master and wagged his tail as soon as you came in sight. 

“Your Majesty.” You spoke, walking further into the room and stopping at the stairs which led to his throne. 

He smiled as he watched you standing there, dressed in a dark grey dress. Similar to the one you wore yesterday, just a different color. “You look beautiful.” 

“Thank you.” You looked down at the dress, smoothing the soft fabric down as you spoke. “Also thank you for breakfast.” 

He caught the smirk you had on your face. He knew the reason behind it. “I assure you I wasn’t trying to be funny.” 

You took the liberty of walking up the stairs which led to his throne. “I didn’t say anything.” You whispered with a smirk and reached down to greet Cerberus. “So what do you do all day?” 

He took a sip of his wine, watching you as you knelt to the ground beside him and gave the dog endless pets. “I’m a god.” He sounded cocky. “That’s plenty of work already.” 

When you looked up at him and smirked, he could’ve sworn he felt tingles dance down his spine. There you were, a beautiful woman happily sharing space with him inside his dark kingdom like it was no big deal, with no intention of leaving anytime soon because you said it yourself that being here made you feel safe. 

The more he looked at you, the more he saw the light radiating off you. The light he so desperately needed. The light which balanced out the darkness he carried with him. The light which showed him glimpses of possible futures with you, if you’d be willing. The god was content in your company. He doesn’t remember the last time he felt the need to protect something so fiercely. 

“Come with me.” He stood up and set his glass aside, holding his hand out for you to take. 

You took it and he helped you up. “Where are we going?” you asked, as he led you down the stairs and into the corridor again. 

“There’s so much for you to see. My kingdom isn’t just full of darkness and death. There’s beauty here too, of course, none quite like your own but close.” He spoke as he led you somewhere, holding your hand carefully in his as though it were made of glass and would shatter if he let it go. 

You rolled your eyes at his comment, pretending as if it didn’t make you all flustered. “Is it now?” 

The god led you all the way to the place he was most fond of in his entire kingdom, other than his beloved throne. It was a vast garden, fit to be the backyard of a castle. There were more kinds of plants and flowers than you could count. Cobblestone walkways leading to what seemed to be a pond in the middle, surrounded by stones and moss. 

The dark red roses caught your attention rather quickly. You reached out to touch the soft petals and you felt Bucky’s presence behind you. He was so close that you could feel his warm breaths against your skin. 

“It’s so pretty.” You whispered. 

He reached around you and plucked one of them, handing it to you. “Just like you.” He mumbled and you gave him a genuine smile as you accepted the gorgeous flower. Dark red, like blood and sin. 

Amongst the numerous plants, trees and shrubs you managed to spot the one growing pomegranates. You cracked a little smile. Even though the garden was partly shadowy and foggy; the rays of sun which came through were golden and gentle. As you looked around, you spotted a yellowish weeping willow tree and walked towards it, the god followed you. 

“You’re the first one to ever step in here, you know that?” he said while thinking about all the times he spent hours in here wondering if one day fate would ever allow him to find someone he could share the joy of being here with.  

You reached out to touch the dangling leaves and looked back at him. “Well thank you for the privilege, Your Majesty.” You teased. 

You walked a few steps forwards, standing under the willow tree and admiring his secret garden when you felt his arm snaking around your waist as he placed his chin on your shoulder. 

Neither of you said anything. He was more than happy to have you here, he had been lonely for way too long. You said to yourself, ‘this isn’t so bad.’ 

He had told you about the rules of the Underworld before, you knew you couldn’t leave. You didn’t want to either. Sure, you missed your mom a lot. But going back out there would mean having to live in constant fear of what if your dad finds you. And what would he do if he does? 

Being here meant that you’d be safe and wouldn’t have to worry about anyone catching you. You didn’t fear anything here. It was quiet and the handsome god was great company. You felt all warm and tingly as he held you close, yet it felt comfortable and natural - like you were meant to be here with him, as if you had known him all your life. 

As of now, neither of you knew where this mutual attraction would go, or what it would end up being. But at the moment, just having the other one there was enough. He gave you the safety you had been searching for all your life and you provided him the warmth and light he had craved for millennia. 

---

Days in the Underworld were surprisingly peaceful; filled with surprises, visits to the garden, learning more about the god and finding out why he stayed as far away from his family as possible, wandering his kingdom all day, reading… time just flew by. And before you knew it, you had lived in the Underworld for months. 

Your bond with Bucky morphed into something more affectionate and sweet. Lingering touches and longing stares turned into deep, passionate kisses and always having to sleep in the same bed because otherwise nothing made sense. It wasn’t just love, it was tender adoration. It was warm, and light and safe. 

You hadn’t been intimate yet, but the sparks flew around whenever your hands touched at night, or when your eyes met from across the table at dinner. You were both holding back from taking it a step further. It wasn’t like he wasn’t dying to have you in his bed, or that whenever he kissed you good morning you didn’t feel the need to get on top of him and ride him until the sun came up the next day - but you were both waiting for a sign from the other and it was driving both of you insane. 

It got really, really heated one time. Bucky was on his throne, with you in his lap. His hands slipped under your dress and lazily caressed your thighs while he kissed the hell out of you. Your fingers tangled in his hair, while you gasped and moaned through the kiss. 

But just then Cerberus barged in, barking and jumping around with nothing but chaos on his mind. Bucky let out a loud sigh while you hid your face into his neck and giggled. It was those moments which made you love the place all the more. Not just the place, but the god as well. 

Winter came and when the weather was the coldest, and you spent all your time indoors is when the memories of your mother started tormenting you. She used to spend all her time baking in the winter, so you asked Bucky if you could too. He, of course, let you have anything you wanted whenever you wanted so naturally he let you. 

You tried so hard to keep yourself busy and happy but you couldn’t help but miss your mom. Bucky noticed it. And it broke him. He gave you everything one could ever need. You had everything here, and yet he could see how your eyes weren’t so shiny and curious or filled with magic and light anymore. You were dimmer than when you first came here. 

He began seeing you wandering around his home a lot less as you spent all your time either in bed or standing on one of the balconies, staring out at the woods longingly. No amount of books, or poetry or visits to the garden or your favorite food or kisses from Cerberus made you happy any longer. And Bucky’s worst fear was materializing in front of his eyes. 

You were no longer happy in the Underworld it seemed. 

-

One night, he found you curled up in bed earlier than usual. He stood at the door and watched you. You weren’t crying, you were just sad. He walked into the room and called out, “Angel, are you okay?” 

You sat up immediately, not wanting him to see you like this but at the same time you couldn’t fake being happy either. So you gave him a faint smile. “Yes, just a headache. I’ll be fine by morning.” 

He smiled faintly. His heart breaking at the sight of the sadness in your eyes. “Come with me, I have something to show you.” 

You got out of the bed and took his hand. He led you to one of the libraries he had; the coziest one with the huge fireplace and the perfect window which allowed you to see the breathtaking view of the gentle snowfall. 

You stepped further into the room and saw that he had the fire going already and the room was much warmer than anywhere else in his castle. You walked right over to the large window, pressing your palm against it as you watched the light snowfall; clean, dazzling white and calming. Your headache faded little by little. 

You felt a soft, warm blanket being placed upon your shoulders and you immediately wrapped it around you. Turning your head to the side you found Bucky right behind you. He kissed the top of your head and wrapped his arms around you. 

“Feeling better?” He asked and you nodded. 

“Much better.” 

You stood there, basking in the comfortable silence and the warmth of the room, just watching the snowfall and how it accumulated on the ground; a fresh, thick blanket of ice. 

“You miss her.” Again, it wasn’t a question from him, just a statement. 

“Who?” You pretended not to understand. 

He kissed your cheek and whispered, “Your mother. Your home. You want to go back, don’t you?” He sounded almost heartbroken and bitter. 

You remained quiet. You didn’t say anything. No… ? 

He spoke up again. “Even if I let you go, you will never be willing to come back here. To me.” He pulled away from the hug and walked over to the fireplace, shifting the burning wood with a brass fire poker. “Why would you?” He sounded pensive. “Why would you come back to this dark, barren kingdom when you can be perfectly happy out there? You must feel like you’re being held captive here.” 

He didn’t turn around to face you so he couldn’t see the silent tear which fell down your cheek. So he thought that if given the chance you would run away from here and never come back to him again? Did the past months mean nothing? Did he not see that he was all you wanted? 

Your throat burned. 

“Is that what you think of me?” The crack in your voice caught his attention. He turned around to face you with a worried look on his face. He couldn’t believe he made you cry. You weren’t sobbing, but you couldn’t contain the tears. “You really think I’m gonna be happy out there, without you?” 

That broke him. 

“Angel… I didn’t mean to…,” it was rare for the god to find himself at a loss of words but now he did. 

You wiped your tears away. “Did you even notice that I haven’t cried in months? Not since I met you because you make me the happiest I’ve ever been. This dark, barren kingdom you speak of feels more like home to me than when I lived with my family.” 

He walked up to you and pulled you into his arms. “Baby… I’m sorry.” 

You hugged him back. “I don’t feel like I’m being held captive. I don’t want to leave you. But I can’t help but miss my mom. I don’t want you to think I’m not happy with you anymore, I am. But I… It’s… I don’t know.” 

“I’m sorry.” He said, pulling away to look down into your eyes. “I need you here, with me. The thought of you leaving me forever and never seeing you again, it… it kills me.” 

You held him by the back of his neck and pulled him closer. “I’m not leaving.” You gave him a sweet kiss. “I love you.” You kissed him again and sensed his surprise as he kissed you back feverishly. You whined when his mouth left yours only to kiss down your neck, nibbling on your skin and leaving dark red marks behind. 

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” He mumbled as he kissed along your throat, walking the two of you back until he plopped down on the soft, velvety couch with you on his lap. You looked at him with nothing but hunger in your eyes. He looked at you and smirked; burning desire, lust and sin in his icy blue eyes. 

“Likewise.” you whispered. 

His hands grabbed you at your butt, firmly as he pressed you further into him. You could feel him; big and hard under you. You moved your hips against him, grinding on him out of desperation and whining in need. 

He chuckled against your lips. “You’ve had me by my heart ever since you walked into my life.” He spoke as he cupped your face gently. “I never knew I could feel so deeply for someone until I met you.” 

You stared into his eyes, your heart overflowing with all that you felt for him and your body burning with desire at the same time. So much so that you could no longer sit still on his lap. You needed him so bad it almost hurt. 

You leaned into his touch. “I feel the same way.” You leaned closer, gently caressing the back of his neck. “Falling for you was so easy.” You felt his body tense under you. 

He groaned. “Come here…” he pulled your face closer and pressed his lips to yours immediately, kissing you passionately and making your body tingle; biting your lip before shoving his tongue past your lips and kissing you like he’s famished and you’re the only thing which can satiate his profound hunger. 

Next thing you knew, he pushed you down onto the couch and hovered above you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. You moaned and whimpered, body squirming under his. You needed him, terribly.

Bucky’s mouth left your lips as he kissed his way down your body, undressing you in the process. Your long, flowy dress found itself on the floor as he settled himself in between your legs. His handsome face just inches away from your dripping core. 

He looked hungry, and feral – a man who wanted to do bad things to you, and you were more than happy to let him do whatever he wanted. “You’re mine.” He growled before he leaned in and kissed your wet folds, his tongue slowly circling around your throbbing clit and licking down, parting your wet folds with ease.

Your body felt hotter and lighter as a pressing need to release formed deep inside you as you felt his tongue stroked your most sensitive parts. “So fucking sweet…” he looked up at you and found you with your eyes shut, head thrown back in pleasure. “Look at me.” He ordered and the authority in his voice made you tremble.

You opened your eyes and supported your upper body up with your elbows digging into the couch and you took in the sight of him in between your legs. His strong arms wrapped around your thighs, keeping you in place and close to him. He maintained eye contact as he licked in between your wet folds again, making you whine as he teased you. His touch was deliberately slow, pleasurably agonizing. 

“Please…” you cried out, whimpering and begging him to take you already. 

Your hand flew to his hair and you tugged on it gently as he flicked his tongue over your clit over and over again. His stormy blue eyes watched how you lost control under his touch; legs shaking as he teased your entrance with the tip of his tongue. His hands wrapped around your thighs, securing you in his grip as he pushed his face further into you, making you cry out loud until you came undone. 

He kissed his way up your body again, then lifted off you for just a moment to get rid of his clothes. Once done, he was hovering over your naked body again. 

“If it were up to me, I’d keep you here…” he leaned in to kiss you on the lips, “just like this, forever.” He loved the sight of you; naked, hot and squirming under him. He desperately wanted to keep you there forever and never let you go. 

You giggled. “Fiend.” 

He smiled as he looked down at you. “Where have you been all this time?” He leaned in to kiss you again as his hands touched you wherever he could; letting his hands linger at your breasts and taking his sweet time; caressing and kissing your skin. 

His hands slipped in between your legs with ease; caressing your inner thighs as he went. You moaned into the kiss; his touch was slow, and gentle and enticing but also fiery - much like himself. 

You whimpered and squirmed under him, and he smirked through the kiss as he pushed his erected cock past your tight entrance, pulling your legs up to wrap them around his waist. You moaned out loud as he pushed into you, your back arching off the surface of the couch. He grunted once he filled you up entirely, giving you a couple of seconds to adjust. 

He grabbed both your hands, laced your fingers together with his and pinned your interlaced hands down above your head. He stared into your eyes, lips parted as he struggled to fit inside you. He had always wondered how he would feel inside you. How warm and how tight and snug you’d feel… but you felt better than he imagined. 

You threw your head back, moaning. You were so full of him that even you couldn’t even form a proper thought. His lips found yours again, trying to get you to stay quiet while he rolled his hips against yours. He pulled out and pushed himself back into you, and watched in awe how you struggled to fit him inside of you. 

“Come on, take all of me…” He mumbled breathlessly as he pushed deeper into you. You heard him gasp and swear under his breath as he rocked into you. Your nails sank into his skin, around his shoulders; which you held on to as he pounded into you. 

He bit your lips, kissed your open mouth, and shoved his tongue past your lips while he rammed into you; and you never once complained. He stretched you out completely. And it did hurt, but the pleasure compensated for the pain. Your legs trembled around his waist, he thrust deeper into you; fucking you like only a god could. 

Your back arched off the couch as you felt a familiar warmth washing over you. Bucky growled and bit down on your shoulder to keep himself from being too loud while he fucked you. He was relentless. The sound of his moans and grunts sent tingles dancing down your spine and you were sure that his bite left a mark. 

Bucky’s hand found its way to your front and he pressed the palm of his hand against your lower abdomen. He liked the rush of excitement which coursed through him each time he felt his cock deep within you. His hand travelled all the way to your neck and he gently squeezed the side of your throat. Hard enough to make you lose your mind while he kept pounding into you incessantly. 

“Fuck…” you heard a barely audible moan leave his lips as he rammed his cock in and out of you incessantly. 

You felt him quicken his pace. You tightened around him, and he groaned, pounding into you; growling and mumbling swear words under his breath. You felt the pressure in between your hips grow until you couldn’t hold back anymore. 

His other hand toyed with your folds; his fingers furiously rubbed the skin around your clit and made you tremble and whimper again. You moaned, craving more and more of him. With a few more strokes of his thick cock, you felt his thrust becoming irregular, and felt his cock throb against your walls. You tightened around him, feeling the burning hot need to cum grow hotter and hotter inside you until it exploded.

You came with a loud moan, gushing all around him. Bucky came right after you; buried deep within you – growling under his breath. His warm cum shot at your walls and trickled out of you when he carefully removed his length from your entrance. You were a whimpering mess. And so was he. 

He collapsed next to you. You were shaking just a little as he tucked your head under his chin and ran his soothing hand down your back; while kissing the side of your head. 

“I love you too, angel.” 

 ---

 Bucky agreed on letting you go for a few days, so you could meet your mom. But he had one condition: 

“My mom will freak out!” you exclaimed. 

Bucky shook his head. “Mortals can’t see him as the guardian of the Underworld. Your mother will see him as just a regular dog.” 

“Then how can I?” 

“You’re special.” He walked over to you and pulled you into his arms, kissing your forehead. “You were meant to be here. To be mine.” 

“Are you sure about this?” You bent down to give the excited three-headed little monster scratches. 

“Absolutely.” He was sending Cerberus along with you for your safety. 

You smiled at the dog and looked up at it’s master. “Alright then. When do I leave? And how?” 

The god smiled. “Right now. I’ll take you.” 

You smirked. “You know we can’t show up in a chariot being drawn by horses, right?” 

He chuckled. “Trust me, angel. Come on, take my hand.” 

You did. And the next thing you knew, all three of you were surrounded by black fog, and less than a few seconds later, you found yourself standing at the entrance of a beautiful, gated home you didn’t recognize. You looked beside you and there stood your beloved god and his trustee guardian. You realized it was night time. 

“Where are we?” you looked around, not recognizing the neighborhood. 

Bucky grabbed your hand in his and Cerberus’ leash in another. “Your mom’s place.” He led you to the front door and rang the bell. You were confused, but too excited to see your mom to ask any further questions. 

Needless to say, your reunion with your mother was filled with tears and teary smiles and hugs. She then told you that her and your dad were no longer together and that this was her home now. She didn’t know where your dad was, and neither did she want to. 

“Oh honey, who is this handsome young man?” Your mother asked, once she realized that Bucky was there too. 

You went along with the story you and him had concocted before leaving the Underworld. You told your mother that Bucky was your long term boyfriend and that you ran away to him because you were in love with him and couldn’t agree to marry someone else. 

“I’m gonna be away on a business trip for a couple of weeks, so I thought why not leave Y/N with you until I return. After all, she’s been wanting to see you.” Bucky spoke to your mom politely and won her over within a few minutes. The god was indeed very charming. 

After leaving Cerberus in your care, Bucky parted from you at the doorstep with a long, deep kiss. “I’ll be back for you, angel. Miss me.” 

You smiled, kissing him back. “I will wait. I love you.” 

“I love you more. Take care.” he kissed your forehead, and left. 

Leaving you behind to your mother whom you had missed, but who also had a thousand questions for you. You answered all of them, lied at most. 

---

The first week went by almost too quickly. Mother-daughter quality time, gossip and all. Cerberus was a sweetheart and each morning when you woke up and saw him in the kitchen keeping your mom company, you’d freak out for a moment or two. Then you’d eventually remember that she couldn’t see him for what he truly is and you’d calm down. 

By week two, the jittery feeling of being back with your mom had died down. Not that you didn’t enjoy spending time with her, but the fear of your father finding you caught you off-guard often. 

It was someday during the third week of you being back with your mom that your fears hit you hard. You had a terrible nightmare where your dad was back and was trying to take you away again. It was spine-chilling to a point where even Cerberus picked up on it. 

You woke up to him whining and licking your face. You sighed in relief upon seeing his heads looking down at you in worry and confusion. 

“I’m okay,” you gave him some pets and he immediately curled up on the bed beside you. You snuggled beside him, caressing his fur which looked shiny thanks to the moonlight coming in through the window. “You miss your daddy, don’t you?” You saw his multiple ears perk up at that. You giggled. “I miss him too.” You give his paw a kiss. 

“Well good thing daddy’s here.” You heard his voice coming from the dark shadow of your room. Cerberus jumped out of bed and was surprisingly quiet as he greeted his master with much excitement. “Hello,” Bucky greeted him, “how about you go home now? I know you’ve missed it.” One last scratch behind the ears and a snap of Bucky’s fingers later, Cerberus disappeared into black fog.

You sat up in the middle of your queen-sized bed and leaned over to light the soft, golden lamp shade by the side of your bed. You blinked in confusion. “Bucky?” You were pleasantly surprised. The soft golden light made him look almost angelic despite his signature, all black outfit. 

He gave you his signature cocky smirk. “Were you expecting someone else at this odd hour, angel?” 

You rushed out of bed and right into his arms. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close and he kissed your hair. “I’ve missed you so much.” 

“I’ve missed you too baby. You have no idea.” He pulled away and cupped your face so he could get a good look at you. He leaned down to kiss your lips, deeply. You felt warm all of a sudden. 

You smiled through the kiss before pulling away, asking in a hushed tone, “How come you’re here at this time?” 

“I sensed that something was wrong. You were having a nightmare, weren’t you?” 

You nodded. “But I’m okay now.” 

“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.” 

You rubbed your nose against his. “Doesn’t matter, you’re here now.” 

He grabbed your face and kissed you again; down your neck and along your shoulder. His stubble tickled your skin and you giggled as quietly as you could. You felt his hands caress your skin under your shirt, inching closer and closer to your breasts while he walked you back and eventually pushed you down onto your bed. 

Your body tingled and burned under his warm touch, and there was nothing you wanted more than to have him buried deep in you. Ever since that first night together, you craved him almost all the time. After all, he made love to you like a god. 

“Do you know how hard it was, being away from you for so long?” He whispered, sounding gentle, but also demanding and hot. 

Suddenly you felt all confident and sassy. “Why don’t you show me then?” 

He smirked and grabbed your oversized t-shirt and tossed it over your head and somewhere behind him. The sight of your bare body underneath him made him growl. “Is this how you slept every night? Almost naked?” He whispered in your ear as his hands roamed your body, mainly toying with your breasts. “Did you touch yourself, while thinking of me? Hmm?” 

You gasped and moaned just at the sound of his voice, he was barely touching you. 

He pressed his mouth to yours again, impatient to just have you already. His mouth didn’t leave yours as his hand slipped in between your legs with ease; caressing your inner thighs as he went. His touch caused a shiver to run down your spine as you moaned through the kiss. 

“Shh,” he mumbled against your lips. “Can’t have your mom find out that her daughter is being a dirty, dirty little girl for me now, can we?” He ran his fingers up and down your folds, gathering and smearing your arousal around as he went. 

He messed with you for a little bit; stroking your walls with his fingers and making you whine. You whimpered quietly under him as he nuzzled your neck and nibbled on the skin along your throat. “Please…” you pleaded. He chuckled. 

“Please what, baby?” he teased you with his fingers, keeping you on the edge. 

You whined under your breath. “I need you… please…” 

His lips found yours again as the two of you hurried to unbuckle his pants and he pulled it down enough to free his erected cock. He couldn’t wait any longer. “I need you too baby,” he kissed you deeply, “but I’m gonna need you to be quiet for me, okay?” 

He pulled away and waited for an answer. You nodded, breathless already. 

“Good girl.” He pressed his forehead against yours while he pushed his erected cock past your tight entrance. You moaned under your breath as he did. You whimpered as you felt all of him. His lips found yours again, attempting to get you to stay quiet while he rolled his hips against yours. 

“Shh, angel.” He whispered in your ear before pounding into you like his life depended on it. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, something which had become a habit of his, as he groaned under his breath at how your body welcomed him perfectly.

You failed to form proper thoughts as he rammed into you. The sounds he made were downright sinful and you loved it so much; knowing that you had the power to make him lose his mind. 

“You’re all mine, you hear me?” He mumbled. “Tell me you’re mine,” he whispered right at the shell of your ear, and you moaned quietly at how he sped up into you.

You did as he asked. You told him again and again that you were his. And no one else’s. You couldn’t imagine loving anyone else. 

Bucky held you like you were the most fragile thing ever even while he fucked you like there was no tomorrow. You were a tear-stained, whimpering mess as you came around his thick cock. He came right after you, grunting and groaning under his breath. 

“I love you. So much.” He whispered, kissing the side of your face to calm you down. 

You smiled, breathless still. “I love you too.” 

 He stayed with you, in your bed long after you two were done going at it for a second time that night. You snuggled into his side, your hand lazily across his torso. “Are you gonna stay for a little longer? Have breakfast with mom and I?” 

He caressed your cheek with his thumb, “Won’t your mother ask how I got here?” 

“I’ll tell her that you got here quite early while she was still sleeping.” 

He raised his eyebrows at you rather dramatically. “Look at you lying without any shame.” 

You giggled and got on top of him, straddling his waist and placed both your palms against his toned chest. “Oh the things I do for love,” You leaned down and kissed his lips with your own swollen ones. 

He smiled. “Does your mom like me? As your… boyfriend?” He asked, sounding a little worried and it made you laugh because he was… him - a god, a king, ruler of the Underworld and here he was worrying about if your mom approved of him or not. 

You pulled away to look into his eyes. “Yes. She likes you quite a lot actually. Who wouldn’t? You’re perfect.” 

He smiled, his heart exploding at your words, as his hands caressed your exposed thighs. “I like her too. We’ll visit her every now and then, don’t worry.” he spoke and then looked around at your bedroom. “I like it here.” 

You kissed him again, pouring all your love out into the kiss. You pulled away again, “Also I was thinking maybe we could go back tomorrow.” 

He knew perfectly what you meant but he was dying to hear you say it. “Where to, angel?” He reached out and grabbed your hand, bringing it to his lips and kissed your knuckles. 

You smiled down at him, your heart exploding with just how much love you had for him. 

You answered, “Home.”

[astaroth1357]

Demigod MC Series: Hades

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades

Lucifer

Well… this is awkward…

He’s actually met Hades multiple times for business reasons (Underworld-Devildom relations are amiable if not a little odd. Hades was something of an uncle figure to Diavolo as a wee demon lad, which should speak for itself really). He’s a gloomy fellow and not much for chit-chat, but he never thought they’d end up taking one of his kids by accident…

He had to send a formal apology letter to the Lord of the Underworld immediately, but thankfully he didn’t seem very concerned for his offspring - if anything he appeared to think the Devildom would suit them nicely which was… concerning.

And he was not wrong. The darkness, demons, ghouls, and frights of the Devildom hardly seemed to faze the MC, if anything they fit right in. He’d dare say they were thriving if not for one thing…

They were So. Damn. Bleak.

Getting a smile out of this one AT ALL was rare. For once he felt the need to check up on someone constantly just to be sure they were alright... They’d keep assuring the House that they’re not actually as sad as they look but it’s hard not to assume…

He was a little mortified at first when they first met Cerberus cause… well they called him “Cerbi” and the massive demonic guard dog rolled over for them like a Golden Retriever! 

Apparently he and the Cerberus that they knew are from the same litter and they must have smelt familiar... He would have probably limited their interactions just to keep his dog on his side but after seeing the MC smile for once while they played with the big oaf well…

Cerberus got a new playmate and the MC got a massive, three-headed therapy animal. Win-win. 😌

Mammon

Do ya really gotta be such a downer all the time, MC…? 😔

He thinks they’re nice, like really nice. They’re always super concerned when his brothers attack him or when he gets injured, but he’s pretty sure it’s because they’ve seen people die before so…

At first, he had no idea why he had to be saddled with this depressing wisp of mortal but over time he started to understand that they weren’t all that sad. They had… Resting Gloom Face? Is that a thing? 

They also had a different way of seeing things. He could win the lottery and they’d tell him to stay inside so he wouldn’t get hit by lightning or if he pissed off the wrong people, they’d joke about him keeping his fingers and toes. Dark stuff, but not intended to be so… well morbid.

However, what he eventually found out that the REAL advantage to having a Hades kid in the Devildom was that nothing scared them. Literally nothing. Not even the ghosts - which to reiterate, are terrifying!

Cue Mammon getting dragged to horror movies nights with his brothers and pulling the MC along to be his personal security blanket. He’ll hold onto them for dear life as they just pat his head or something, watching and not even flinching at the jumpscares.

The first time the House had an unexpected power outage he clung onto the back of their shirt like a lost child while they calmly looked for the circuit-breaker...

If he could jump into their arms every time something scary happened like Scooby-Doo, he absolutely would. His brothers make fun of him, but after seeing the MC handle Cerberus like a puppy any time something frightens them they hide behind the mortal as well…

Leviathan

In some ways, he totally relates to their moodiness but come on! Who can still look so sad when watching The Magical Ruri Hanai: Demon Girl?? Ruri-chan can make anyone smile! 😠

When he first met the MC, he was a little confused about why they didn't find him intimidating at all. He even reverted to his demon form and showed his fangs but no dice! All they said was, "I've walked along the edge of Tartarus. You're gonna have to try a lot harder than that, buddy…" 

That was probably his first sign that the "human" wasn't normal…

After Mammon told him who their Dad was, things made a lot more sense. A child of Hades in the Devildom? That's ironic enough to be its own anime plot!! They certainly felt like an angsty protagonist at times. 🤷‍♀️

Truth be told, they could relate to each other in a lot of ways. You wouldn't think that an offspring of the Underworld and a demonic shut-in would have much in common but the one thing they share between them is that sense of never really fitting in.

Turns out that Hades kids are black sheep, even among other demigods, and Levi? Well, he's had trouble relating to others since his angel days. He and the mortal were like off-beat kindred spirits!

Which, I mean, you wouldn't get just by looking at them together. Levi being the impassioned super-otaku rambling their ear off while his somber companion would just go along with him quietly, but hey, there's more beneath the surface. Probably. 

Now if he could just get them to cosplay as the Lord of Emptiness with him… They'd be perfect! Perfect he says!!

Satan

Highly considered drugging their food with antidepressants for a while… 

This was before getting to know them better, of course, but for the first couple months he honestly couldn't shake the feeling that the mortal looked miserable! 

Now, he's one to particularly care for the comfort of strangers, but just looking at them like that every day would sour his own mood quite considerably. It was very irritating...

It was only on closer inspection that he realized there was something else at play, though.

The mortal was different - even for a demigod he imagined. They took to the Devildom easily and the realm almost accepted them right back!

The flora looked better in their presence, the hellish beasts that roamed the wilds would roll over for them, and they even seemed to be welcomed in by the never-ending shadows… 

It was fascinating. Like the effects of the Underworld were baked into their DNA and mingled with the environment around them… Two layers of darkness coexisting within one person.

I mean, what other creature - other than Lucifer - could ride Cerberus around like a pony??

Had they not been so kind, they'd probably scare him shit-less... Their potential power was too great to ignore. But after getting used to their gloom, at least they made for pleasant company. 🤷‍♀️

Satan likes them well enough, but even still he has to wonder just what they were capable of… you know?

Asmodeus

Oh. My. WORD. What a buzzkill!!!

Really, the new mortal was no good at parties or pictures for that matter!

Not because they looked bad, or even because he couldn't get them to smile, but because GHOSTS would always photobomb any pictures they were in!! 😫

One time he got a selfie with them on the couch and a creepy ghost child could be seen hiding behind the cushions so NOPE. No more photos with the mortal around!!

Aside from that, he couldn't say the mortal was all bad or anything…They were pretty friendly, despite their general look and feel. 

Though, personally, he thought they wore far too much black... Even in the Devildom, there's normally a pop of color, you know? Was that just the Hades dress code?

And you want to know the weirdest thing? Despite everything about them screaming "Doom and Gloom," they're straaaangely popular among the RAD dating scene…

Like. Not as some heartthrob, "Love'em and Leave'em"-type, but he's found that there's a LOT of his demonic classmates who think they're cute or have a crush on them in some way…

Naturally, he can see the appeal of the mysterious, moody demigod with a dark, troubled past. It's just the demigod in question is completely oblivious to it! 🤷‍♀️

He tried to give them dating tips or play matchmaker from time to time but eventually gave up when it was clear they weren't interested. Alas, students of RAD, this is one forbidden fruit that refuses to be shared…! Such a tragedy… 😔

Beelzebub

They remind him of Belphie… like. A lot.

The similarities were obvious. They had a similar feel, made similar jokes, and even the same somewhat dreary attitude about them...

If he were being honest, at the beginning there were times when he'd open up to them a lot more than he intended because he'd forget that he wasn't actually talking to Belphie…

Thankfully, he knew better than to try and treat them like his replacement or anything. They were two different people after all. But it didn't stop him from feeling extra protective around them for a while.

Besides, there was ONE thing that set them leagues apart from Belphie and that was the fact they were a shit cook. Not quite as bad as Solomon but uh… Actually no, that's a closer call than it has any right to be...

Apparently, Hades kids don't need to eat as much and when you hang out with shades and skeletons for most of your life, you don’t really worry about making food that's any better than… "Well, technically it's edible." 🤷‍♀️

Their food won't kill a person like Solomon's, but you WILL start seeing stuff you probably shouldn't. He tried their "soup" once and swore he saw the ghost of his mother… and he doesn't even have a mother!!!

He swears that if he ever sees the MC and Solomon working together in the same kitchen he's skipping town… Whatever culinary abomination the two of them could create would probably gain sentience and eat HIM instead. He's always figured he'd go out with Death by Food, but not like that!! 😫

Belphegor

Ever meet someone who’s like looking in a mirror? Yeah, he’s getting those vibes…

He never expected the "human" to be so similar to him, it was kind of uncanny.

Upon first laying eyes on each other there was a pause… then a squint… and then… a nod.

Honestly, their combined dry wit, dark humor, and pessimistic outlook played off of each other surprisingly well. Too well for him to hate, really.

Not that it mattered because they didn’t believe him for a second when he tried to trick them (they had dealt with loads of lying monsters before). He hated to admit it, but they had a good head on their shoulders and knew better than to trust a locked up demon…

And yet, they seemed to stick around with him anyway. Because of the good conversation or just empathizing with his loneliness was anyone's guess. 🤷‍♀️

Sometimes they'd come up and sit outside the door in comfortable silence… Or they'd talk about whatever:

MC: *sitting out by the attic with their back against the door* So what happens to demons when they die…?

Belphie: *laying on the floor on the other side, staring at the ceiling* Depends on the kind. If I die, I'll just reform later.

MC: Like a reincarnation?

Belphie: Eh. *shrugs* Maybe. Haven't died yet.

MC: You could die in there, you know.

Belphie: *throws a side glare* Well thanks for bringing that up…

MC: *shrugs* What? It's true. But don't worry, I won't let you. *small-ish smile*

Belphie: *stares at them wide-eyed and pink-cheeked before turning on his side quickly* Ugh… whatever…

They did their word, somehow. They eventually got the door open and let him out, but by that time the anger was gone and he was just happy to finally talk to them face-to-face...

And good thing too, because apparently it's not smart to fight a death-child in what is essentially their element - as he saw when they summoned an army of skeletons to kick Levi's ass when he cheated them in Devil Cart...

He would not have lasted in that fight... Dodged a bullet there. 

[ryozoro]

Hades Playlist - i.

NOW PLAYING : I n t e r l u d e [J. Cole]

cw; name calling, blood, mentions of murder, major spoilers

“Fate is a very weighty word to throw around before breakfast.”

Despite the red-light district thriving through the night, it looked just as beautiful during the early morning. Yn was roaming the streets on her pedal bike for the first time since winter break as she plotted different ways to surprise her big brother at his newly opened bike shop. She had already purchased his favorite breakfast meal from the little café she worked at, and all that she was left to do was see the said man. Getting out of thoughts and returning to reality, she stopped at the side of the traffic light to press the ‘crossing’ button and to text Draken to make sure he was at work before she made the trip.

“hey there pretty girl, ya wanna come ride something more interesting than the little kiddie bike yer on right now?” some bleach blonde junior high kid called out to her, smirking as he man spread and took up most of the space on the park bench. “I know ya hear me pretty girl,” he leaned and rested his elbows onto his knees, “maybe ya want me to come over and beg for yer attention, huh? Want me to come and make ya listen to me?”

She scoffed and waited for the light to signal for her to cross, but its as if the gods wanted to punish her and traffic kept flowing out of her favor. Getting restless, she pocketed her phone and tapped on her bar handles in hopes of the cars to all be generous and let her through; of course, this did not happen and the young fuck boy in training had began to approach her alongside his friend who were hyping him up and recording the event.

“You might be older than me,” he walked up behind her and kicked her bike tire before circling around and leaning against the basket in the front, “but that doesn’t change the fact that I hit girls.” Yn had to refrain from spitting in his face because Draken always said ‘never start anything with others first, let them choose their fate.’ In other words, big bro just didn’t want her to put herself at risk due to minor inconveniences that were presented towards her.

Just as the light switched from a hand to a walking figure, yn politely smiled at the boy in hopes of him getting the hint that she did not wish to engage with him anymore, but – of course – that was just asking too much of him. He turned back and looked at the sign noticing it was their turn to cross, and he surprisingly moved out the way. Yn smiled realizing that her brother did know it best when he said that the ‘dumb young boys will leave you alone after they realize you’re not going to give them the time of day,’ and she moved to pedal across the cross walk with a large smile.

However, big bro’s words are not the golden rule amongst men and the boys did not leave her alone; in fact, they decided to run at her hit the back tire with a bat and caused her to lose control and fall in the middle of the walkway. The drivers were kind enough to wait for her to get up and cross the street with scraped knees and a dirty pull over. She turned back to glare at the boys, but their backs were already facing her as they leisurely walked away laughing. This wasn’t going to ruin her day, after all, she still gets to surprise her brother with her presence and might even have the chance to see his hot amazing friends whom you grew up around. After realizing that the former gang members might all be hanging around her brother’s workplace, she got up with a huge smile and skipped the rest of her way on the crosswalk. Once to the other side, yn hopped back on her bike without checking her bloodied shins and made her way on the quickest route to the shop.

Glancing up at the familiar billboards that danced in sky and looking down at the alleys being populated with street cats and new gen delinquents, she realized she was only a block down from seeing the man who has always put her first and raised her to strive to her fullest potential. Smiling as closed her eyes for just a second - she swears it – to bask in the excitement and next thing she knew, she was on the ground covered in coffee. She could hear faint voices but those were cancelled out by her skin screaming at her to get up and quickly remove any rubble and dirt that had entered. Moving to get up, she took note of blood staining the concrete and became slightly alarmed.

“Oi, you dumb bitch, you should watch where you’re going,” a man’s voice echoed through her head, “you got a drip of blood on my Milano’s.” Trying to get up, yn went to wipe her eyes, but as soon as she lifted her hands, she felt them share the similar sting that her knees and chin felt. “You deaf or something? Ha, lucky for you I’ll take the food in your basket and whatever is in your wallet as an exchange. Pin code for your card must be included, love.” Hearing as she was about to get stripped dry of her hard-earned cash, she shot a glare up at the well-dressed man’s body just to be sent in a more state of terror when she noticed the tattoo that decorated his temple; it was the infamous Bonten symbol.

“I say we just take her to the back alley and make her pretty throat match the rest of her bloody body,” she turned and seen a pinkette with long hair and two scars that sat on each corner of his ?beautiful? mouth. to be completely honest, he would have been very much at the top of her most attractive list if he weren’t just plotting to slice her neck right in front of her; she wondered if he ever heard of the Element of Surprise. “She hasn’t even apologized yet and it’s been at least 45 seconds, that is pretty rude don’t you think, Mochi-kun?”

“It is very rude,” the built man with slicked back blonde hair spoke up, “do you want me to take her in the alleyway?” He squatted down to meet yn at eye level and she didn’t know if it was the fact he was able to stare into her soul with lifeless eyes or the extremely structured shoulders that could break her bones if he had tackled her, but she genuinely felt that she was going to die. “You seem like a worthless kill if I am being honest, and I don’t like claiming meaningless prizes. So, if you want to live,” ‘Mochi-kun’ reached over and gripped her bloodied chin, “or are you going to be good dog and run your pockets?”

She couldn’t believe it; for all her life, death threats have never been directly shot at her as Draken and the others have always been there. Of course, she emptied her pockets as quick as she could and began wiping the man’s Milano’s with her cloth lens wipe.

“Good girl,” the man with the temple tattoo said mockingly, “but I’m gonna need you to put your pretty mouth to work since you don’t know – or rather – you act like you don’t know how to speak.” She felt her eyes began to fill with tears as she looked up from the ground; they mistook it for fear, but yn was just angry she was powerless to them. “Don’t worry, I like older women, so I won’t need your mouth for that,” he laughed loudly in her face, “lick the blood off.” Her glare returned and tears began to spill over her cheeks. “Be a good bitch, and lick my –“

“What are you idiots doing?” a man with a long pink and purple mullet-like hairstyle came from behind her. “Are you guys bullying young kids again? Oh, wait, you’re not a kid.” He stared at you through his multi-colored bangs and tilted his head, “Why are you all bloody like a sewer rat walking through the back alley of feral cats?” he pushed the girl’s forehead back, straining her neck to hold eye contact with him, “you’re not some whore, are you?” He craned his neck back to the man who has been treating her like a dog, giving yn a full view of his Bonten symbol tattooed across the middle of his pretty throat. “Neh, Koko, you do realize that if you want a girl’s attention you can’t just rough her up in hopes that she takes you to bed.” He turns back to yn before sighing, “You’re cute,” for some reason she felt herself swelling with pride, “but you’re not my type,” – well there goes her ego.

“Oh what-fucking-ever,” ‘Koko’ mumbled as he gently pushed her away, “I didn’t want some inexperienced princess anyway, so don’t get your hopes up.” He quickly bent down and took all the cash from her wallet and began to slide out the card, but a baton quickly swatted at his hands.

“Your obsession with money is crazy, but you can’t take hers if you still owe me 45,000 yen.” Yn turned to see a man with pushed back purple and pink hair holding the offending stick. Unlike the other members, his tattoo was in the same place as the mullet man – maybe they took over the organization after her other big brotherly figure, Mikey, left. She drank in his appearance, and although he was thinner than the other members, something about him just screamed ‘stay away;’ but for the first time in her life, yn didn’t want to listen to such obvious red flags. “Oh no, you’re bloodied up like a rat –“

“I have already said that nii-chan,” the mullet head said, “what do you say? Wanna jut get rid of her like Sanzu-san suggested?” The now known younger brother asks. She began to tremble but not out of fear, no, out of a weird feeling at the pits of her stomach that came about as soon as the stranger stumbled onto the scene. “Oi,” the younger brother flicked your chin, reminding your body that it is supposed to be in a state of stinging pain, “staring is rude. What are you – a deer in headlights?”

“Now, now, Ridou,” the man continued to meet yn’s gaze as he motioned for her to take his hand, “where’s the fun in hurting a good little lamb? Especially one who shows that she knows to yield to her Sheppard.” Against her better judgement, yn took his hand and allowed him to help her up. “Look at you go,” he smirked and scanned over her body through hooded lids, “such a strong little girl you are standing on wobbly legs after the big bad wolves tried to tear you down.”

She should feel offended, mocked, and appalled, but she couldn’t – not with the voids he called eyes staring at her. “T-thanks,” she weakly mumbled as she began to gather her bag back together and prop her bike back up, “I know you guys said you needed the pin number, but I can’t give it to you.” She hung her head and balled her fists; she was waiting for someone to hit her but that never came. Looking up she sees the ‘older brother’ standing in front of the brooding ‘Koko’ and the other members just staring around the streets.

“That’s fine, little one,” the older brother said, “we don’t need your card. Koko here will be fine with just the cash. But I will need payment of the sort since I did calm the bully over here, don’t you think?” He smiled at yn, quickly scanning her student ID and then turning back to her face, “You’re 18, yeah?” she nodded, and he smiled lazily, “Good, give me something of yours that is valuable. I want to talk to you again and if I take it, you are going to want to take it back, correct?”

“I – um,” she began to go through the bag and seen that the only things she deemed valuable were her phone and the spare keys to her room in the brothel, “all I have is my k-keys and phone.” She huffed out in hopes that he took mercy and just let her go already; if she kept in his presence any longer, she feared that every piece of knowledge on common sense would fly out of her brain.

“Well, no one wants a pedal bike here and your phone and keys wouldn’t be of use to me,” he spoke in a rather degrading tone, “how about, you give me that pretty little necklace that you’re wearing… hmm, ... oh! Give me your number as well. After all, how are you going to know when I want you to take back your precious gems without being able to plan a proper date?” His smile was too secretive to be comforting, but this was probably the best way to saving her own life.

“Okay,” she replied quickly, “just please, don’t break the necklace…” her hands shook as she unclasped it and placed it into the man’s hands. “That’s a gift from my brother, so I promise you I’ll come and get it whenever you ask.” Yn put her hands on her bar handles before straddling the bike.

“Thank you,” he smiled and put away the baton before fishing out his phone, “put your number in it and call to make sure you’re not fucking with me, yeah?” He tilted his head and softly hummed at the soft sound of her phone vibrating in her bag. “Thank you, yn-chan.”

“No, thank you,” she lightly coughed and waited for him to look back up at her after saving all her contact information. Once he finally looked up, she flinched but proceeded to stare him dead in his lovely irises, “May I have your name… if ya don’t mind that it.”

“Haitani Ran,” the older man laughed and shifted his weight onto his hip, “and I expect you to text me whenever you get the chance.” He turned around and the other members began to follow. For what felt like an eternity, yn finally let out a small breath, well at least until he had turned back around. “Oh!” Haitani-san smiled at her, “Leave it under ‘Ran-senpai’ so your brother and friends don’t get spooked. Don’t want the fun to end before it has barely even started.” With that, he turned back around and waved half-assed before disappearing into the distance.

Yn decided to just to walk the rest of the block because riding the bike has been nothing but bad luck so far. Once at the shop, she sighed and made her way to the back where she knew would be unlocked because no one dared walk up into her big brother’s place of work. Parking her bike, she quickly takes her phone back out with 3 texts from an unknown number.

Unknown: hey little lamb, its yer senpai <3

Unknown: yer probs with yer bro so ill call you later, mm around midnight so stay up

Unknown: text me back soon or I mite accidentally break your pretty necklace and youll have to  owe me a big favor for ignoring me :)

“what the actual fuck,” yn whispered as she quickly began typing away. She didn’t know if she be upset with his back-to-back messages treating her like she was his property, or mad at herself for feeling this little need inside of her that wants to please him. Yes, all of the gang members were extremely hot and DANGEROUS, but something about ‘Ran Senpai’ gave her the cold chills; what made it worse was the urge that she possessed to go against all her morals for him.

Yn: hi! Im sorry,, I was just trying to get to my brother’s shop

Yn: wait,, do you know draken-nii?

She tilted her head and rocked lightly from side to side, waiting for a reply instead of going in and surprising her brother like she initially had planned to do. While she waited, she changed his name to ‘Tani Senpai <3’ with a small smile as she imagined Draken freaking out over the fact that a boy has caught her interest. Of course, she wasn’t romantically interested in the man, but his face isn’t one that she would mind seeing from time to time – at a safe distance that is.

Tani Senpai <3: mhm, some good and bad history

Yn: oh?

Tani Senpai <3: you do know curiosity killed the cat, right little lamb?

Yn: you flirt a lot

Yn: how old are you ?

Tani Senpai <3: 28 years young bb

Yn: youre ten whole years older than me?? You look so,, young.

Tani Senpai <3: I have aged, but trust me, I am rather youthful in different aspects.

Yn: do you by chance,, like memes?

Tani Senpai <3: ofc, especially hornee ones.

Yn: haha.. well I gotta go,

Tani Senpai <3: mhm go ahead baby, remember. Midnight <3

 Yn: aye aye captain.

She felt another vibration as she placed her phone in her backpack, but she was finally able to see and surprise her brother and that is exactly what she planned to do. Quietly pulling the door open, she noted that the music blaring and Draken’s back was to her as he was fixing up what looked like Pah-chin’s old CBX 400F. It was a cute sight if she was being completely honest; her brother rebuilding his old friendships. She seen the other boys’ bikes lined up too: Draken’s Zephyr, Mitsuya’s little Impulse, Kazu-kun’s Rocket, Mikey’s CB250T, and even the late Baji’s Goki.

“Pah-san still has the old thing,” she decided to speak up instead of tackling her brother, “are you guys gonna give it to some younger kids?” right as she finished her sentence, draken whipped his head back and went to cradle yn to his chest. Suddenly, all of the stinging on her skin had vanished and she was giggling while circling her arms around her brother’s waist. “How are you ya wannabe greaser?”

“I’m doing fine you idiot, how are -,” draken lifted his head to get a good look at her, but all his excitement drained as he was met with a sight of dried blood and scraped skin. “Who the fuck did this to you? I’ll kill them right fucking now, what the hell happened yn?”

“DRAKEN,” he stopped and stared at you expecting an answer, “I tired riding my bike down the big hill by the park and this happened, okay? I’m okay.” She stared at him with a soft expression and relaxed once she noticed he slumped in his posture, “I know you said to stop riding down the hill because it’ll bite me in the ass one day, so I guess today was the day.” Yn laughed and draken tried to fight the small smile that was threatening to fall on his lips.

“Go sit on the counter and watch the store for a bit, I’m gonna get the first aid kit in the back and I guess I’ll patch ya up.” With that, he disappeared into the office hall and left yn to be lost in thought. She had never lied to Draken this heavy before. It might not seem like a big deal to others, but she just told her brother she fell down a hill instead of saying that some /Bonten/ men were just threatening her life 20 minutes ago and they treated her like a dog; well, she didn’t feel that bad anymore, considering that he would have gone and wasted his life against men that played dirty. “Get out of your head, I’m back.” Draken teased her before getting an alcohol wipe and wiping the dried blood, “don’t squirm too much, loser. iss’ gonna sting a bit tho, so try to not hit me.”

It went a lot more smooth than she had expected, yeah, the cleansing wipe and ointment burned, but now she was bandaged and able to not worry about even more blood staining her clothes til they go to the brothel.

“Here,” he handed her a spare shirt and some sweats, “I don’t like seeing you all beat up, makes me want to fight the side walk. You know where the bathroom is.” Draken slightly punched her shoulder before heading back to seat near the bike, “once you’re done, we can go meet the boys for breakfast. I bet yer hungry.”

“Yer the best, ya know that,” yn smiled before taking her bag and clothes to the bathroom. “It won’t be long,” she turned before entering the hall, “make sure the cute one is there!”

“Stop trying to fuck my friends,” Draken called out in an irritated tone as she walked away laughing. It was an ongoing joke yn had played on her brother, where she would pretend to have some crush on his friends and it’d just make him twenty times more protective around them; he never knew if she was serious or not so he had to be cautious.

Once in the bathroom, yn quickly changed into the clothes her brother had lent her and stared at herself in the mirror. She laughed when she realized she kind of looked like one of the main characters from her favorite psychological thrillers. Yn took out her phone and decided to message Mana, mitsuya’s younger sister and yn’s best friend from home, with a picture of her bandaged state and the caption, ‘take out my ankles next time, daddy <3.’ It honestly surprised her to get a reply that fast as Mana was always one to sleep until noon. She didn’t know what scared her more, the fact she sent it the wrong person, or the fact the person knew exactly what she was talking about.

Tani Senpai <3: you look hot like that

Tani Senpai <3: like being called daddy, but in this context arent I supposed to call you mommy or something LMAO

Tani Senpai <3: I can break your ankles with my baton

Tani Senpai <3: make you my little housewife and call you ‘Bum.’

Tani Senpai <3: don’t worry, I won’t turn into ashes ;) <3

“Yn,” Draken called out, “you okay in there?”

“Don’t worry about it nii-Chan,” she giggled in hopes of masking her terror, “just bumped into a wound. I’ll be out soon.”

“Okay,” draken slipped a pad and a tampon under the door, “don’t know if you might want these -,”

“LEAVE YOU IDIOT,” yn genuinely laughed and heard draken’s heavy chuckles through the door, “thank you though, I’ll be out soon.”

“I’ll be outside on the bike, bubs.”

After hearing draken’s foot steps vanish, she quickly began typing.

Yn: that wasn’t meant for you -

Tani Senpai <3: shame, I love killing stalking

Yn: wait,, really? 👀

Tani Senpai <3: mhm,, we’ll talk about it later tonite ‘bum ;)

Yn: .. deal :)

Despite every shitty thing that has happened to her since she got back, it felt as if they were supposed to meet; fate as one would call it. She was offering herself to one of the most dangerous men who rule the underworld, and she didn’t even find herself to minding.

masterlist | next

an: hi hello, hope yer all eating well :)

ryozoro©

[roger-that-cap]

all the flowers will bloom

summary: you would have never tried to leave your mother if you knew that bringing that pomegranate tree back to life was your ticket to the underworld. or, maybe you would have, because it turned out that hades was quite the opposite of the evil goddess that you had been drilled to know.

warnings: nothing much!! some fluff, some bonding, near death experience, dog petting

word count: 3.2k

this is part three!

It was late at night, and the only way you knew was because it was utterly silent. The dead didn’t sleep, but the night was their quiet time. It was their time to reflect and be alone, and it was almost sacred to them. You knew that no one would be around to watch you in the garden, whether you failed or succeeded. 

You woke up one morning starving. Your stomach was rumbling in a way it never had before, and you groaned at the feeling. Had you really not eaten anything the whole time? 

You rolled out of your bed and opened the door to your room, walking blindly down the hall and trying to find something, anything. The urge to eat was strong, and it was calling you. You vaguely remembered Natasha telling you about a kitchen, and how the humans who used to cook in their past lives took residency there and cooked for everyone who wanted to eat, even though feeding wasn’t necessary to the dead.  

You weren’t dead just yet. 

Your feet were taking you somewhere, past souls who couldn’t care less about your presence and then past others who stared at you like you were from a famous myth. Either way, none of them spoke to you, and you didn’t speak to either of them. You were just hungry. 

“Are you looking to eat something, darling?” A voice crooned, head peeking out of some double doors. 

  “Yes.” You cleared your throat. “I know it’s early, but, are these the kitchens?” 

 “They are,” the woman said, and you noticed how her form was slightly more wispy than all of the others you had seen. “We haven’t started yet, but we have some things left over from yesterday, if you’d like.”

“Yes, please.” 

“Come in, child.” And so you did. Your steps took you further while something in the back of your mind was urging you to go the other way. Your stomach called for the exact opposite, and it won. Your steps got faster despite the bells going off in your head, and then you were standing over a table of pastries. 

  “Wow, these look beautiful,” you murmured, eyes catching on multiple different dishes. The bells got louder, but you ignored them as you finally reached for the one on the far right. You smiled at the woman, who was watching you with hawk eyes, poorly hidden anticipation on her face as she waited for you to eat. “Thank you for allowing me to have one, miss.” 

  “Wait, don’t let her eat that, she’s not dead!” 

The pastry was slapped from your hand just as it was about to go into your open mouth. You gasped as you were turned by your shoulders to meet an unfamiliar face, yet another woman. She was more solid than the other one behind you, who you discovered had faded away at the sight of the new arrival. 

 The woman had brown hair and light green eyes, bordering on blue. She was breathing heavily, like she ran miles just to get to her spot. Her eyes were wild and worried all the same as she shook you twice. “Why the hell were you about to eat that?” 

“What?” 

“You’re alive, what are you doing?” You matched her worry, hands shaking and eyes wide as you stared at her in silence. “Do you not want to go home?” 

A strong presence seeped into the room slowly at first, and then it was suffocating everything and everyone else. And just like that, the woman who saved you stepped back from and faced the doors, doing the same as everyone else and kneeling with her head bowed. You looked towards the door and saw Natasha walking in, her aura dark as she commanded the room without any effort.

“What’s going on here?” 

There was a heartbeat of silence, and then the woman closest to you was speaking, head still hung low in respect. “A nymph tried to feed her, Your Majesty.” 

You watched Natasha stiffen, and then her eyes turned to you. She stalked forward quickly, steps so intimidating that you almost retreated. “Open your mouth.” 

  Your fear melted into confusion. “What?” 

Natasha’s eyes were ablaze as she gripped your chin, her initial hold harsh and even edging towards desperate, but in the quickest of seconds she loosened her hold on your slacked jaw. “Did she eat any?” 

“I got to her before she could put it in her mouth, Your Grace.” Natasha’s eyes lingered on you, blank and observing everything about your face at the moment before taking a step back, but if anything, the intensity only doubled. 

  “You are never to eat a thing here, do you understand?” Her voice was hard, harder than you had ever heard it. When you failed to answer, she narrowed her eyes even further at you. “What you did could have killed you, Persephone. Don’t eat down here, ever.” 

You opened your mouth and almost shut it because of the smoldering look she was giving you. Yiu grappled for words for a second, slightly embarrassed that all you could get out was a pitiful, whiney statement. “B-but, I was hungry.” 

Her expression of seriousness cracked just a little. “I forgot that you would be. I apologize.” There was a gasp from over in the kitchens, and you retreated into yourself after knowing that everyone else was listening. They were gasping because she apologized. “But if you ever get hungry, come to me, and I’ll fix it. Never eat anything here.” 

You were still shaken by how angry she seemed, and by the way the skin on your hand still slightly stung with the force of the woman’s slap. But you were still curious. “Why?” 

“If you eat something here, you’re consenting to be a full time resident.” You sucked in a breath. “If you were dead, it wouldn’t matter. But you need to go see that horrible mother of yours, and eating won’t let you do that.” 

  Your heart was racing. You could have been trapped there, in the Underworld. For longer than you were even supposed to be. You looked down at the woman and how quick she was to recognize what was wrong with you eating, and then you realized that it was a known fact. That meant only one thing. 

 “That lady was trying to set me up!” You gasped informally, and Natasha gritted her teeth.

  “And she will be dealt with.” She turned to look at the woman who saved you. “Thank you, Maria. You will be rewarded for your behavior.” 

  “It was my pleasure, Your Grace.” She stood up and bowed again before walking away. 

Everyone else cleared out while you and Natasha looked at each other, eyes seemingly gravitating towards each other’s. “When you’re hungry, come to me.” She repeated, and you frowned. 

  “How can you fix it if I can’t eat?”

“The same way I fix the feeling of death every morning,” Natasha sighed. “It’s mostly all in your head. The hunger, the darkness, they’re side effects of being here. I just take it out for you.” 

You took a slight second to marvel at the idea of her being able to do something like that. “So you can make me feel full?” 

There was something that flashed behind her eyes, passing too quickly for you to identify. Her gorgeous mouth attracted your attention as her lips pulled up slightly, just enough for you to notice. “If I tried hard enough, I could make you feel nearly anything.” 

Why did her words feel like she meant something entirely different than what it was supposed to? 

§§

The earth was dry. Not a thing was growing, and everything that managed to slip by and grow died within days. Demeter was on a rampage, angry beyond belief. Nothing good ever happened when a god was angry. 

“The humans are suffering,” Steve pointed out to her, aware that he needed to say his piece gently, or risk Demeter losing her temper again at the expense of mankind. 

“I don’t care,” the goddess hissed, even though it wasn’t necessarily true. “I will let them all starve if my daughter isn’t found and brought back to me.”

“What do you want me to do, Demeter?” He asked, shifting on his throne and giving her a mildly annoyed look. “I don’t have her, and I don’t know anyone who is stupid enough to take her.” 

“I want you to call Hecate.” She ground out, and Steve gave her a disappointed look. “She looks up to you. You’re the only one who can bring her out of hiding, and she’s the only one with the magic that can track down my Persephone.”

He looked down on her from his throne, and she picked her chin up as he gave her an even more disapproving look. “It’s not right to pull Wanda back into this, and you know it.”

“It’s been ages since the fight against the Titans. They’re all dead or locked away, now. She’s fine.” If it was anyone else at stake, anyone other than her Persephone, maybe Demeter would have agreed with Steve. Wanda was traumatized after the wars with the Titans, and everyone knew that after what she had done, she deserved to live however she wanted in peace. But she could rest after Persephone was found. “Call her.”

“I can’t just-”

“You are the king of us all, there’s not a goddamn thing that you can’t do! You’re going to call Hecate here right now, or I will let every single human down there rot and wither away, do you understand me? Not a soul will be alive to offer you anything, and then they’ll all take a trip to see that bitch of the Underworld.”

Steve watched her with an unamused glare, equally annoyed with her as he was wary. “Demeter, calm down.” 

She looked like she was getting fired up all over again, but she scoffed and shook her head, taking a second to find the right words through her fury. “Fine. For now, I’ll be calm. But you have to swear to me that whoever has taken Persephone, I get to destroy them. Without question.” 

Steve’s words came quick, but he meant them. “I promise.” 

“Good.” She straightened out the crown of flowers that had tilted on her head, and then crossed her arms. “Call Hecate.”

                                          ****

The days passed by the same. Every morning, you would wake up and feel like you were inches from death, and then Hades— Natasha—would come in and put her strangely warm hands on your throat and chest, and then you could breathe again. You would be escorted by her to the second level, where you would exert yourself so much that your knees trembled only to get no results. She would put her hand right on your stomach and make the hunger in your stomach reduce to nothing, and sometimes she would even eradicate the pain in your knees from kneeling through the day. And then, hours later, you would trudge back to your room and cry. It was the same old song every day. 

You missed your mother. You missed the way that the outside world could bring you freedom, even though you were trapped by your mother’s hold. You missed the nymphs, and even their worrying. You missed dipping your toes into the ponds and swimming and singing without a care in the world. Now, you were fighting for the nearly impossible to happen, working your hardest to see your own world again. 

  “You’re going to die before you fix it if you keep going like this.” 

  You had mixed feelings about Natasha. The rational part of your brain knew that she didn’t want you there either, and that she would rather not have you in her space and presence. You had touched something that didn’t belong to you, and now you were paying for it. But the part of your mind that made you want to scream and cry was angry and almost constantly blaming her. 

The rational part of your mind won. “I don’t know how else to do it.” 

“What do you do when you’re above ground?” She asked, taking a few steps closer to the place where you were kneeling down, knees in the dirt and dress pulled up so that it wouldn’t have two big brown spots on it. “Because I know this isn’t it.” 

    She was right. You were pushing yourself, and your mind wasn’t in the same spot as it would have been if you were in your natural habitat. Usually, you could just look at a spot in the ground and it would grow. In particularly harsh lands, you would touch the soul, but it never got harder than that. This felt nearly impossible. 

  “How would you know?” 

“I know all about you creator gods and your gifts,” she said, her tone almost bored. “It comes easy to you. Creating life is your safe space, isn’t it?” You didn’t need to answer. “There’s no way that something that you were born for makes you react like you’re reacting now.” 

  “Well, you want me to grow an entire garden in a world where nothing lives,” you said, running a hand over your face as you tried your hardest not to cry. “And whether or not I see everyone again is based on that. So forgive me if I’m not being efficient.” She was silent after that, so you turned and out your hands in the dirt again, breathing in and out. 

 “Have you heard of that one idea by that one human?” You had almost forgotten that she was still there, speaking too vaguely for you to even try to understand. “You can’t produce anything good if you don’t feel good. I think the same may apply for the gods.” 

  Your fingers dig deeper into the dirt as you cast a look at her over your shoulder, a small and sarcastic smile on your face. “There are many ways this conversation could go, would you mind elaborating?” 

There were a few heart beats worth of silence. “Would you like to see Cerberus now, Persephone?”

“It’s Y/N,” you corrected immediately even though your heart jumped, and you had to work to keep your frown going. “What makes you think that seeing your dog would make me happy?” 

  “I never said happy,” the older goddess corrected, and then she sighed. “But it could be a start.” 

  “You can’t be serious,” you said, taking your hand from the dirt and turning around to stand, giving Natasha an incredulous look, even though you meant it to be more curious. “Why do you care?” 

 “I told you, I don’t want you here for any longer than necessary. I don’t need the Mother of Corn Stalks attempting to wage war on me.” She turned around and took a step forward, and you knew that she was walking to the elevator and expected you to follow. 

  You did. 

You watched the doors open and watched her form as she let herself in first, and then looked at you expectantly. “And, besides, I hate to watch flowers wilt. That’s the whole reason you’re even here, you know.” 

She hated to watch flowers die? That seemed uncharacteristic of the woman that your mother had warned you about, but you were quickly learning that most of the things your mother had told you about her just weren’t true. No person who liked death and destruction didn’t like to watch death and destruction. Your mother was wrong about her, and you thought about that the entire way to the elevator. 

You waited in the elevator, not sparing a look at the Queen of the Dead for fear that she would already be looking at you. You didn’t want to admit it, but she intimidated you. 

You were on the opposite sides of your own large spectrum. She was in charge of everything dead, the very part of life that you worked tirelessly against. If it wasn’t the air of death and decay that surrounded her, it was the look in her eyes. Half haunted, half… alive. Hades hid so much with her eyes that it was impossible for you to ignore and dig into, just like you used to dig in dirt. And you discovered that the woman truly felt as much as anyone above, maybe even as much as the humans. And that terrified you. It terrified you that the woman that your mother demonized actually had emotions in her heart, had a weakness and a strength. 

Hades became so much more than a story far too quickly for you to grasp. 

  “Cerberus,” she started, and her commanding voice nearly made you jump out of your own godly skin. She continued with barely any pause. “He’s a good dog. He’s just… he will be very overwhelming to see at first.” 

You assumed so. He was the creature that guarded the entrance of the Underworld, which meant that he must have been more horrifying than anything that walked the greens of the earths. You knew he was as dark as midnight and that he had three heads simply from the stories that everyone was told when they were young enough to listen. 

  Natasha strutted out of the elevator, red hair swaying in the wind with her sure steps. You were steps behind, still wincing at the feeling of unfamiliar stone on your bare feet instead of tickling grass. She took you to an iron door, one that looked heavy and sounded even more heavy when she pulled it open after having a handful of keys appear in her hands. She unlocked the door with two of them, and then other locks that you hadn’t even seen turned. 

  “Why did I agree to this, again?” You breathed out as she led you in without a word, and then you were nearly screaming. 

  The creature was huge. He was so tall that he straight up took your breath out of your chest, and your hands shook. He had three heads, indeed, all three with dark red eyes that stirred like storms. Though there were three heads and they were all three scary, you couldn’t take your eyes off of the middle head. He had bared his teeth automatically at the sight of visitors, and he showed off his killer incisors to make it painfully obvious that he was the most vicious of the three. You tried not to take a step back or startle either of them in the silent room. 

  “Stand down,” Natasha commanded, and just like that, all three of the heads were subdued, and the conjoined body laid down on the floor, the middle head resting on the front paws. “You’re going to let my visitor see you.” 

You nodded warily,your wide eyes fixated on the huge thing and your hands shook. “Oh, I’ve seen him, I’ll be alright from here.” 

And you were. For a few weighted moments, you just stared at the thing but looked so out of the ordinary egg that for a moment, you doubted that something like him could be a thing. You watched the thing for minutes, analyzing movements and mannerisms. 

  “Is he alive?” 

The question came from nowhere, and surprisingly, from behind you. You jumped and turned your head to see Natasha leaning on the wall of the very generous cage. Her slender arms were crossed as her eyes were questioning as she waited for your answer, like she had all the time in the world and no intention of repeating herself. 

   “Cerberus?” You squeaked out, and then cleared your throat quietly. No. That was your immediate response, or what you wanted it to be. But before you could say anything, you second guessed yourself. “I… I don’t know.” 

  Natasha’s arm extended as she gestured towards her well known guardian animal. “Feel.” 

  He felt… different. He felt gray, right in between the white light of life and the plain darkness of death. At first glance, he seemed to be floating right in between, placidly and without a care. But, when you dug harder, you realized that he was actually much more in the white than he was in the dark. 

  He was more alive than dead.  

“He’s… alive.” 

“And if he’s alive after hundreds and thousands of years, then anything you can plant can stay that way.” She leaned off of the wall, and you swallowed when she turned her gaze towards you, and like she and her pet were on the same page, all four pairs of eyes in the room were set on you, waiting patiently for your gift to bless their home. “Don’t you agree?”

****

i hope you guys liked this one!! we’re getting into stuff now, so that’s exciting. it came early because i’m kind of in a mood, and i wanted to get a little bit of feedback today! this is gonna be so much fun to write going from here even though i’m already having a blast, and i think you guys might have fun reading it! if you guys liked it, please remember to like and reblog 💕💕💕

taglist:

@teenwonder @saamwilscn @messuhp @username23345 @dontmindmejustreading @bitchuwish @blackxwidowsxwife @anxiousgoldengirl @russianredassassin @dailyavengering @blackluthxr @coxmicbabygirl @alytavzla @deathofmissjackson @1-800-gaygentsofshield @msmarvelsmain

sorry if i forgot to add anyone!!

[smallrainclouds]

Part five of marriage AU. Sorry for being gone for so long, I'm moving rn and my dog had to go the vet so I been busy. Hope you enjoy. Part six should out later this week.. net part will have more hypnos x reader.

🌙💤💤🌙

Time passed much quickly here. Almost too fast. Weeks had passed into a full month before You knew it.

Dusa came every other day to dust and You looked forward to your chats.

The library was coming together nicely. Even though You did have to read every scroll since no one, not even Nyx knew what they held.

Nyx had been surprised by how much there was. You thought you even saw the faintest of blush on her cheeks.

"I knew I had a big collection but I didn't realize how many I've picked over the years." Nyx murmured. "I was so busy raising several children along with Zagreus once he came later with Hypnos and his brother."

You also found out that Hypnos had way more siblings, way way more than you had sisters. But you haven't quite gotten the story about why he talked only about two of his brothers.

You peeked over the scroll you were reading in hopes that maybe somehow it had gotten smaller.

The pile still loomed threatenly the corner.

You tsk when you saw it was still the same as before.

Slowly, the gods and shades of the underworld were becoming friends of sorts.

Zagreus, much like Hypnos, had also become a regular to your library. Often with questions about your former home and any advice you may have.

You knew you weren't getting the full story of why he really wanted out but all in due time.

Charon, a god that Hermes often talked about, was nerve wracking to meet at first but he warmed up quickly to You when sharing stories of Hermes.

Nyx, even as your mother in law, had become someone who You looked forward to having the chats with. The both of you talked over the scrolls and you quite enjoyed the stories of her youth, the rare times she talked about it.

And there was Dusa, Achilles (even after that embarrassing day), even Cerberus would give you a small single wag in greeting.

And so many others. They felt more… honest. Your old home had rules and politics that you were never able to quite grasp.

You never felt right at home, with a different father than all of your sisters and a different power from all of them.

But they loved you and you loved them in return.

Homesick as you were, You were embarrassed to admit there was someone else on your mind.

Hypnos.

You haven't seen Hypnos since that night he slept in your bed. Not really anyway.

He came once a day for a few minutes, made a quick comment on the library or at Zagreus if the prince was going through the scrolls when he came in. But that's it. You felt almost like a pet that Hypnos just made sure was still alive before taking off to wherever.

You blinked at the scroll as you realized that you didn't read a single word. Your mind had drifted away from the scrolls and back to Hypnos.

Again.

🌙💤💤🌙

"Do you have anything on a thing called a Bone Hydra?" Zagreus had asked one day out of the blue, his desperation was clear in his voice.

You put down your tasks list to look at him. "I know what a hydra is but what do you mean by a bone hydra?"

Zagreus slumped, "It is this horrible thing that-"

"Didn't I already tell you what you needed to do?" Hypnos interrupted. "Just don't get hit or die!" He floated to the pile and plucked some scrolls from the top.

Zagreus sighed, "I know, I know. Don't die. It doesn't help as much as you think, Hypnos."

Hypnos dropped the scrolls on the table for you. Slowly but surely the piles had been going down. However, it was helpful to have someone who can easily get to the top.

"Maybe the issue is that you're not moving fast enough." Hypnos said.

"Yes, I am sure that is exactly why, Hypnos. Thank you, all my problems are now solved." Zagreus rolled his eyes.

"Fantastic! Glad to be of service!" Hypnos laughed.

You had to cover a smile before you looked back at Zagreus.

"Zagreus, if I find anything on this bone hydra you will be the first to know." You said.

"Y/N, you're being too kind to Zagreus. Like I said, just move faster."

You laughed at Zagreus' eye roll.

"So this is where you been hiding boy." Hades stepped in the room despite being almost too tall to do.

The energy in the room changed in a way you never felt before. The sheer anger that came from both father and son made the room feel so small.

All three of you stood but it was Hypnos who moved toward you. He blocked you from Hades' sight, his smile never leaving his face. But there was a tightness to his smile. You peeked around him, eyes focused on Zagreus and his father.

Zagreus scoffed, "Oh good Father you were able find the library, would you like some help reading or -"

"Watch your mouth, boy." Hades growled. Then he turned to look directly at you and Hypnos.

You tighten your hands, hoping your nervousness won't show.

"Y/N. Correct?" Hades asked but not in a way that was a question.

You pushed past Hypnos and You ignored his look, you did tell him you couldn't hide from Hades forever.

"Yes. It is a pleasure to meet you, Master Hades."

For a moment, no one said anything.

Then finally Hades spoke, "I heard from Nix about your work on the library."

"Yes, I have some experience with libraries and thank you for the opportunity." You replied, grateful that your voice stayed calm.

"Hmm." Hades looked around the library and You wanted to hide behind Hypnos but resisted the urge.

"Father, what is it that you want?" Zagreus sighed, "Can't you tell you are making everyone uncomfortable?"

Hades' eyes snapped back to Zagreus, "Silent! Your rudeness is what makes people uncomfortable."

Without taking his eyes off his son, Hades said to You. "Y/N, you may continue your work."

"Yes sir, t-thank you." You said, your heart racing, still not convinced father and son will start fighting in the library.

You felt Hypnos' hand on your back, warm and steady, and you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding in.

"Well!" Hypnos said cheerfully, "Y/N needs to get back to work and I know I certainly do."

Hades sighed, "Yes You do. In fact, Hypnos. I need to have a word with you. Alone."

Without waiting for Hypnos' agreement, Hades turned and walked off.

"I'm sorry about my Father." Zagreus' hands in

"No. It's fine. Went as well as it could have." You said, glad the whole event was over.

Zagreus murmured his excuses and quickly left the library.

A moment passed and you turned your head to look up at Hypnos, his hand still on your back.

"Thank you." You whispered, a blush on your cheeks.

"Oh, sure. Hades takes some getting used to." Hypnos grinned. "I've to go see what Hades wants from me."

"Are you okay with being alone with...him?" You asked. You would happily never share a room with Hades ever again, let alone a one on one meeting.

His hand moved away and you found yourself already missing the warmth.

"Of course, he loves my charming wit." Hypnos waved a hand in farewell.

You laughed and watched Hypnos floated off.

With a sigh, you fell into your chair. Not even the underworld gods were spared of politics and drama.

🌙💤💤🌙

"So- so could I ask you a question?" Dusa asked, her duster moved in quick, neat movements.

You pulled your eyes away from the new take list you made. Since the library was getting closer and closer to being done, you had thought about opening it up but there was still much to do. Also you weren't sure of the best to keep track of who borrowed what. And you still needed to ask Nix but you pushed the thoughts out.

"Of course, Dusa. Is there a scroll you're looking for?"

"Well, no. I wanted to ask… how did you and Hypnos meet? I wasn't aware he was seeing anyone let alone getting married." Dusa bit her lip, "But don't feel like you have to talk about it if you don't want to! I know it is not any of my business."

"No. No, it's fine. I didn't meet him until our wedding or at least I think so." You put down your quill. You couldn't help but feel like you met him before that but for the life of you, you couldn't remember. "It was an arranged marriage. I… I've been told he did a favor for my mother during a war, one she would have lost if not for him."

Dusa bobbed next to you, "I'm sorry. I don't know why people or gods act like their daughters are things to trade. It's like they don't even see their daughters as full people."

You blinked, surprised at Dusa's tone. But you smiled, liking the more fiery side of your friend.

"I don't know either. But at least he is kind to me. And he hasn't been pushy if you know what I mean or anything like that. It could have been worse."

"That's good!" Dusa sighed, "Hypnos and I don't exactly get along really but I'm glad to know he has been kind to you."

"You don't? Is there a reason?" You cupped your face in your hands, elbows eyes on Dusa.

Hypnos didn't talk about other people in the house, other than his mother and brother. You wanted to know more but couldn't get him to crack in the few minutes you saw him every day.

"Well I mean." Dusa paused as if trying to find the words. "He isn't mean but you can tell he doesn't care about his work. And he doesn't seem to understand why anyone else cares. He… I don't know. I'm making it sound worse than it is. I'm sorry, Y/N."

She bobbed again nervously. "He is a good guy! He and I just don't click at all."

You smiled even as a knot formed in your chest. Is that what Hades wanted with Hypnos a few weeks ago? Again you cursed yourself for not being able to get Hypnosis to talk to you.

"It's okay, Dusa. It is not a big deal."

After a few more minutes of chitchat, Dusa left, her duster still working madly.

You sat down and stared down at your list. The words might as well be scribbles for all of the sense it made to you.

With a sigh, you pushed away the papers. Why in the world do you care that Hypnos wouldn't talk to you? Or that you still didn't understand a bloody thing about the god.

Why do you care at all?

[1plus1kiyoomi]

Chapter 11: If You

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“I want to thank everyone for coming. I know some of you came from other cities, and it’s great to see you come here in Hyogo. Just now, I heard that all of the dogs have been adopted. I couldn’t explain the happiness I feel knowing that these dogs will finally have a safer place to come home to. But this is only the start. Once again, thank you. Please enjoy the rest of the day,” you say in the middle of the little open area of the shelter. Everyone claps so you bow and then start looking around.

“Hey, (Y/N).” Kuroo calls you and you see him holding Rice. “Can I bring your dog home?”

“No. Put him down and let him play with the other dogs,” you scold him. He puts Rice down and the dog runs to where Kenma is. The long haired man is seated at the corner, probably vlogging as well. “Where’s your wife?”

“I don’t know. The last time I saw her was at the airport yesterday. She’s probably with Alisa or something,” he answers you, shrugging nonchalantly. “Where’s your boyfriend?”

“He said he had somewhere important to go to first, but he’ll be here,” you tell him, then continue to interact with other people.

The Red Falcons are around, just like they promised. Suna brought Komori along, and the libero’s reaction to seeing you was priceless. He nearly fainted when you gave him a hug. Osamu catered so he was at the kitchen most of the time. Atsumu was playing around with his teammates, scaring the shit out of Sakusa by randomly holding up a dog to his face. The curly haired man only came because his daughter, Kia, begged him to go in her place. His sole purpose is to take pictures of the dogs for Kia.

An hour passes, people start going home, so you stay nearby the main door to greet them out. As you stand there, you hear a familiar voice, like literally. It’s a family member’s voice.

“Mom? Why are you here?” You ask in shock, forgetting to greet her properly.

Your feelings rages in fire just from seeing her. You and your mother have never been in good terms. She doesn’t see you as a daughter, but rather a competition. Ever since you were born, your father saw you as the most important girl in the world. And she hated that, she hated you. For that, she makes sure to give you a hard time.

“Is that what you say after not seeing your mother for a long time?” She says sternly, so you hesitantly give her a hug. “I came here to see how you are of course. And I wanted to talk to you about something. Sei’s here, too. He’s just looking for a spot to park.”

Your worries rise even more just from hearing your brother’s name. Sei definitely knows about Kita. He knows everything going on in your life without you knowing how. Whenever you come home for holiday, he just scolds you about all your life decisions. He’ll probably tell you off about dating a farmer, too. But compared to your mother, he is a saint. He’s Team (Y/N) all the way despite nagging at you a lot.

“So where’s your farmer boy?” Your brother says as soon as he nears you and your mother.

“He’s busy. You won’t meet him today,” you snap back, rolling your eyes at him.

“So the rumors are true, then?” Your mom hums. “Since he’s busy, when can we meet if we can’t see him today?”

“On our wedding day,” you deadpan and your mother chuckles. She pats your head so you move your head away in irritation. She smirks at you. “What did you do this time?”

“Nothing.” She smiles at you. You look at your brother and he’s eyeing your mother suspiciously as well. If there’s anything you and your brother can agree on, it’s that your mother is evil. “How about we eat dinner tonight? As family.”

“Okay,” you agree, not wanting to start an argument with her.

An hour or two later, Kita still doesn’t show up. You feel disappointed but you won’t get mad at him until you know where and what he really did. As he said, it’s an important matter. It might has something to do with her grandmother.

You leave Rice in Osamu’s care, without forgetting to warn him about not to overfeed the poor dog. Sei, your mother, and you proceed to the city. Since it’s too early for dinner, your mother decides to go shopping. You and Sei feel that something is up with your mother, but you can’t pinpoint what it is yet.

After shopping, the three of you direct to a shabby ramen place at a random street of Osaka, which heightens your doubts about your mother. She would never eat at such place. What exactly is she doing?

The waitress does her usual greeting as you enter, leading you to a table at the end the of hall. The place is packed with teenagers, couples, and just normal people. But making things even weirder, the table beside yours is empty. The waitresses lead coming in customers to another table or make them wait.

“What would you like to order?” The waitress asks you.

“I’ll get your best seller,” your mother answers. You and your brother say yours, then the waitress leaves to prepare your order. “So how’s university?”

“We’ve been together for more than 3 hours, but you’re asking just now?” You cock an eyebrow up and your brother calls you sternly. You sigh before answering your mother, “It’s fine. I’m getting good grades.”

“That’s good to hear. How about the whole vlogging thing?” Your mother continues to ask and you know where this is going.

“Mom, let her do what she wants,” Sei tells your mother before you can remark back.

“Welcome!” The waitresses greet as someone enters the store. Out of boredom, you check who it is and it’s Ayako? A man follows behind her and your heart shatters into millions of pieces then and there.

“Kita...” you mutter under your breath, clutching onto the chopsticks on the table.

Your head goes empty. Your heart drops. Every moment with Kita flashes your mind in one quick second. You know you can never compete with Ayako, but he should have told you. He promised to show up today. No wonder why he wasn’t replying to any of your messages. Because he was with her the whole day.

Ayako’s the important matter.

Did you even matter to Kita?

What do you do now? Do you slap him? Do you shout at him? Your head is clouded in anger. But somehow you still manage to think about your dog. ‘What about Rice? Kita mostly takes care of him. He might miss him.’

Sei notices your sudden change in mood and looks at where your eyes are stuck in. He sees Kita and Ayako walking over to the table just beside yours. He gives your mother a look of disappointment.

“What’s wrong with the two of you?” Your mother asks, eyes blinking innocently.

Kita sees you too, and his eyes widen in shock. He’s not one to be surprised, but this is something he definitely didn’t expect. In his mind, he’s literally shouting and begging for you not to misunderstand the situation. But he thinks it’s too late since the chopsticks your gripping on is already split in half.

Kita’s about to talk to you, but Ayako takes a hold on his wrist, pulling him to sit back down on the chair. Your mother starts laughing at your expression and you finally connect the dots. She orchestrated this whole thing. You should have known sooner. You should have seen it coming. After all, she’s the one who placed in your head that you marry a rich man. She’s the one who desperately wants you to marry into a rich family so she can have more money in her pocket.

“You are the worst mother ever,” you spat before slamming the chopsticks on the table then storming out of the store. Kita stands up from his seat as well, quickly following you out.

“Ayako, dear... I paid you a lot for this. I even bought you a ticket home. So do your job and make sure they break up,” your mother tells Ayako and she hesitantly nods and runs after the two of you.

Sei stands up then scoffs, “You know mother... the devil works hard, but you work way harder.”

“(Y/N)!” Kita calls you, his pace getting quicker as he sees you walk further than him. He finally catches up to you and he grabs your wrist but you shake his hand off.

“If you still love her, I understand. I don’t care anymore if you get back together.  Did you even like me? Because to be honest, I think I love you. Say that it’s too quick for me to tell, and I think that, too, but I really do. And it hurts so much. I wish you did not date me when you still thought of her. Because it makes me wonder, ‘where was I then?’ Where was I the whole time?” You manage to say without your voice cracking, but you feel your cheeks getting wet from the tears coming out of your eyes. When did you even start crying?

“(Y/N). Please let me exp-” Kita starts to speak but you don’t let him finish.

“I’m taking Rice with me. Don’t expect to see us at home.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Facts:

ADOPT DON’T SHOP

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[riverkloss]

My entry for @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie for her 500 challenge! My twist on Hansel and Gretel! Plus I made a moodboard which is super nice if I say so myself. ❤

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I hated the dress, it was pretty but the way it hung on my body, the color, for what it stood for.

Purity, Marriage, to be chained down to a man, one I didn't love.

Harold's mother Mary was fixating on my hair, near pulling it out at the roots, I fought back the winces, at one point I thought about turning around and grabbing her hair to yank it out of her scalp.

She was tall, thin, she reminded me of a spider, her dark hair pulled into a bun, neat and tightly. A dark dress as if she was in mourning, I was.

She was acting as if I was her porcelain doll to dress up, one without a mind.

The reflection was haunting me, this girl staring back at me. Blank eyes, a trembling lip. It didn't look like me, she looked like a stranger, she looked lost.

Mary yanked again at my roots while braiding my hair, a burning pain running alongside my scalp, I hissed in pain. "Stop moving." She scolded me as if I was a child, I huffed out a breath of anger.

Hero's head perked up watching carefully with those big brown eyes of his, alerted and waiting. He was a very intimidating looking dog, but a big baby to me. He was a mutt, half sure he was a German Shepherd, and a Husky, his eyes always on me watching everything I did.

The last of his litter, the runt. Once I got him he grew and grew, he seemed to get bigger everyday.

My best and only friend.

"Is that what you have packed?" Her voice had a distasteful tone. I turned my head to follow her gaze on my trunk, a box full of books neatly stacked on top.

"Yes, May I ask why?"

I looked at her confused, I shifted the front of my body towards her, relieved that my hair was free of the clutches of her fingers.

"You won't be needing all those books, you won't have time to read once you have children." Her eyes look for an imperfection in my face, ready to fix it.

A sickening feeling turns my stomach. I will have to lie in bed with him, have his children.

The thought makes me ill.

"We need the money." The sentence my mother told me runs in my head.

"You should feel grateful for marrying my son." She states, her lip almost upturning in a snarl.

I want to tell her that her son is a pig, a ugly little repulsive pig with his head up her ass, the words die in my throat, I felt incapacitated by my own words, my mind, constantly double thinking over myself.

"Tell your husband that my dog likes to sit in the front seat." It felt good to push back even the slightest at her.

"Didn't your mother tell you? The mutt isn't coming with you, Harold has never been fond of dogs or any pets, dirty things." Those words pushed me back more, I actually let out a laugh in disbelief.

"I've seen dirtier." I smirked at her, I watched her open her mouth to say something as her face switched to spite.

"Mary? The guests are arriving." I hear her husband call out from behind the closed door.

Her hateful gaze doesn't intimidate me.

If anything it fuels me more.

"You best pray to God before the ceremony." Is all she says before she leaves me alone.

I bite back the untasteful words to tell her to shove God up her ass.

I turn my body towards my mirror once again, laying my palms flat on my vanity, so many emotions running through me.

Alone.

There was no stirring through the house, everyone was outside in the front of the house, my chance was open, and I was a fool if I stayed, lived in misery.

I was a fool to take it too, but a free fool was better than one who had none and was still a fool at the end of the day.

I needed a sign. A sign from any of the gods, I pleaded to any of them who would listen.

Then I heard the chime of bells, from the windchime against my window. There it was.

The last gaze I had in the mirror, at the girl who had the glint of a spark in her stormy eyes, a soft smile on her lips.

I darted for my carry bag, shifting my books off my trunk and stuffing clothes in, the few dollars I had, along with the few books I could take, feeling a loss for the others I had to leave behind.

"Let's go, Hero." I waved my hand, he sprinted up quickly to follow behind me, as I moved through the house quickly and quietly, to the kitchen. I opened the back door, the warmth of the spring air hitting me, as I stepped out the door. Hero was at my side as I closed the door behind me.

I turned my head, and my Uncle was leaning against the house smoking a cigarette, he looked at me, panic ran through my body.

And as I thought my freedom was vanishing through my fingers.

"Keep to the trail." He nodded to the woods, he took a deep inhale of his cigarette.

A breath of relief escaped my chest.

"Thank you."

He waved a hand. "See you later, Kid."

I smiled softly. "See you later."

I knew there wasn't a later, but it was better that way than saying goodbye.

The woods were only steps away, and I ran for life, for freedom.

I was a free fool.

~~~

Dark clouds came overhead, the night rolling in as the sun went down, the birds quieting.

My legs were heavy and burning, and Hero kept at my side, patiently.

"Are you lost?" A smoky voice says, making me jump with a gasp, my heart felt like it was going to pop from my chest.

I turned my body towards the trees. A tall man stepped out of the tree line, but didn't step on the trail, his hair was dark, braided and shaved at the sides, scuff lining his boyish features. I noticed a small birthmark on his cheek near his nose. He looked familiar, but I couldn't put my finger on it. He was quite handsome.

"No, I'm not lost." I stated confidently. Hero didn't react to him, which was odd because Hero didn't like strangers. It made me slightly uneasy.

He perked up a dark brow at me, a charming smirk.

"Are you sure?" He was looking at my dress, his smirk getting slightly bigger.

"I would think you would be at a wedding."

I held onto my bag tightly, ready to strike first if it came that way.

"You should know that they are waiting for you at the end of the trail, they thought they would let you walk to defeat." He turns his head briefly to look down.

My face morphs in surprise for a moment, but it's something that my mother would do. That I believe.

"Why are you telling me?"

He bite his tongue with his sharpest canines.

"You're pretty."

I scoffed. I knew what I looked like, yes I was pretty, but men didn't want wives that outweighed them, or intimidated them.

Weak men.

"I know a way off the trail, one you won't get caught."

I pressed my lips together.

"How can I trust you when I don't know you, you're a stranger in my eyes.

"My name is Hvitserk, now we aren't strangers." He smiled at me.

He outstretched his hand for me to take, but I was still weary of him.

"If you try anything Hvitserk, I will let my dog tear you apart." I stated.

I reached for his hand, and he helped me step from the trail into the treeline, Hero followed and began walking in front of us.

"I'm curious, why did you run away, was the husband-to-be grotesque?" He is toying with something in his pocket and pulls out a few wild berries, he pops one into his mouth.

I laughed at that. "I don't want to be held down in a loveless, freedomless marriage, I want more."

He nods, listening to every word, while popping berries into his mouth.

"My father is pushing us boys to find wives, he is more in the old ways about it, stealing a woman and taking her to the underworld." I laugh a little at the underworld part.

"Like Hades and Persephone?"

He raises his eyebrows at me.

"You know that story?"

"I've always liked that story, My parents hated when I read books like that, they thought it would tamper with my mind." I whirl my finger around my temple.

"He stole her away, but they actually loved each other, he treated her with equality and respected her, never cheated on her, or had stray eyes for another, he would destroy the world if she asked." I continued.

He held out his hand to offer me a red berry and plucked one with my finger. I put the berry in my mouth, it was so sweet and ripe against my tongue, almost a cinnamon hint to it.

"If you asked me, I would too."

I playfully rolled my eyes, taking another berry, then another.

"Though my Mother doesn't want to admit it, I think she went willingly as well."

"Oh?" I peer at Hero who is still walking ahead. I paid little attention to what he said, but I should have.

"She ate the berries my Father offered to her, and she became tied to the underworld."

I stare at him like he's grown two heads.

And my gaze goes to the berry in my fingers,

Red and plump, I feel drunk all of a sudden and light like I am floating.

He curls himself around me, and I gasp.

"I think Cerberus will be glad to see his son again." He chimes.

He holds onto my full hip with a heavy grasp.

"I'm sure you'll give me sons too." His gaze darkens on me, he leans down to my lips and my heart feels heavy.

He presses his lips to mine, and I'm engulfed in hellfire.

Maybe being in the Underworld won't be so bad.

[ljsarts]

Hades Au: Persephones Descent (AU info under the cut)

[Id: A drawing of Persephone from the Supergiant game Hades. she has blong hair braided with green ribbons and laurel leaves in shades of red to yellow. Her expression is of rage with intense low lighting, she's wearing a tunic, skull pauldrons, a green cloak and has red lava like markings up her arms. The background is a gradient with the text "Hades, where's my son"/end id]

Persephone's descent : An Au

This Au begins with Zagreus living above . He is in turn stolen back to the house of Hades and best mom™ Persephone is incredibly pissed off and ready to kick ass.

Thematically wise this merges the themes of the original game , original lore used in game + the sort of relationship shown in the Bridge production of midsummer night's dream between titania and Oberon. (For Hades and Persephone that is).

Things that remain the same: -

-Orpheus' failed attempt to get Eurydice free.

-Zeus' kidnapping of Persephone.

-Hades and Persephone did in the past truly growing to love each other , enough to have Zag together.

What changes:-

shortly before Zag is born Persephone asks to go back to the surface. She fears a new god's presence appearing in the house of Hades if detected by the Olympians could set off an investigation and then war. She says with Nyx’s help they can hide between the Olympians and the house of Hades alongside the river styx away from prying eyes. She also fears that if he is born in the realm of the dead what that will do to him as a baby , she thinks the only way he can live is to be born on the surface.

Hades is the one truly trapped as he cannot follow where Persephone treads, at first he hates the idea but as the days go by and zags birth approaches he realises it's what's best much to his disgruntlement. He asks Nyx to sneak Persephone out of the house to make her believe it is not his wishes but that she has to go anyway and to not return for all of their sakes.

Zag is born by the Styx he lives a life in the cottage they build there together , every now and then Zag sees a green mist in the distance when a farmer collapses or a elder in the village just off the coast passes away peacefully , the green ghostly figure does not cross the threshold of the cottages walls, does not step into the thriving bountiful gardens only watches . green with envy .

Every now and then Charon visits sparingly bringing news from Hades or Hermes bringing news from the Olympians all seems well in the in-between.

One night Zagreus strays too far from the cottage and it's warm green fields, the green ghostly figure he follows further along the clifftops , past the sea dowsed orange with the sunset to a small clearing covered in snow and pillar after pillar after pillar and before him a door taller than any building he's seen before.

Zagreus disappears that night , the next morning Charon arrives early before Persephone can even wake , she arises to aggressive banging on her front door like a drum , Hermes is there as well with Grave news that Zagreus has arrived in the underworld , he's gone.

Persephone is grief stricken till the duo tell her no hes not dead but he has been taken , stolen by Hades and Persephone is pissed. She gathers whatever she has I'm talking sickle, pitchfork, a tonne of pomegranates , the boons of one speedy lad and whatever Charon can sell her.

Alternatively the boons she gains along the way could be from the cythonic gods excluding Hades whom are wanting to help Persephone.

Persephone gets the help of those she encounters along the way who are posted up to slow her down which is :-

-Cerberus:

Whom she's so angry is being used a s a gaurd dog he's a good boy who doesn't deserve to be stuck at the doorway waiting.

- Achilles and Patroclus In Elysium

Whom Hades has reunited so they can fight together in the arena against Persephone . Once beaten and finding out what Persephone is here for they both agree to help her , they know two well, one person who wants a "demon spawn" out of the underworld who'd be happy to help her get out of Elysium

(This is Asterius and Theseus)

-In Asphodel rather than Eurydice (who's in the house) it's Orpheus who sides with Persephone's Lament at having to leave behind the one person they love the most because of doubt. He tells her about Eurydice and how she now resides in the house of Hades and how he wishes more than anything to be reunited with her , Persephone offers to take him to her .

*Orpheus joined the party*

-In Tartarus we meet Sisyphus who confesses to chatting with Thanatos who was full of remorse for leading Zag into the house of Hades but couldn't go against Hades demands I mean he's his boss and it's not like he killed zag or anything.

- we get to the back door to the house , skelly almost sets off the alarm but with Cerberus stealing skelly jaw bone he can't really make much noise to alert the rest of the house , with the cover of Nyx and the blind eye of Thanatos Persephone almost has Zagreus back when Megeara spots her and alerts Hades .

-Either that or alternatively Orpheus rushes to Eurydice and the commotion alerts the house to them. Meg is watching over Zag trying to keep a distance between themselves / not get overly familiar "it's nothing personal just business"

Other rambles-

Hades kept Eurydice around instead or Orpheus as Orpheus always sings about lost love and heartbreak and separation . Whereas Eurydice sings about finality , Hades often asks her to sing the song she wrote herself "Good Riddance" , he finds it soothes the souls entering Tartarus and his own.

Zags been trapped in the room Hades had made for him before they'd left , and Zag spends the time it takes Persephone to descend into hell learning about the father he never knew he had.

We enter phase two : I will lovingly call

"Custody negotiations ".

-Persephone is here and she's livid and not leaving without her son

-Hades tells her that Olympus was getting too close to their cottage to finding out about their son he had to come back to the house for all their sakes

- Zagreus wants to leave , Persephone wants him to leave to

- they argue ALOT

-zag gets aquanted with Dusa, Hypno and Cerberus

-when Persephone mentions the constant winter minus their grove Hades realises something is wrong and they need to fix it , Persephone demands due court . All the members of the house must come together and decide / figure out how to inform Olympus of Zags existence so that they may go back to the surface without fear or if it's truly fucked atleast stay underground till it's better

[dizzydancingdreamer]

Persephone's Symphony | Night One | Persephone

Hey lovelies, here's the next part. It's a little longer-- I got carried which, if you know me and my work, tends to happen frequently. I do hope you all enjoy and thank you so much to everyone who has sent me kind words and thoughts and ahhhh thank you!! I am forever grateful. Now, without further adieu...

Synopsis: In which he is the bad one— the dangerous one, the clunky one, the one who only knows how to break things— and she is the good one— the fragile one, the soft one, the one who knows how to put things back together— and he has to keep her alive long enough for anyone else— anyone who can do more than kill— to save her like she deserves to be saved— to save her from him. There are no pomegranates, no three headed dogs, and no requirement to stay— that is, if they don’t count an assassin on the loose out for her neck. In that case, three days in a safe house doesn’t feel like a long time— just long enough for Persephone and Hades to remember why opposites attract.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader (third person)

Warnings: meh some angst, some talk of death-- the normal for this series

Word count: 5.2k (omg)

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Master List

The rest of the day goes smoothly. Well, as smoothly as a day can go when there’s someone out there trying to kill you. Maybe smooth is the wrong word. For dinner she pops a frozen pizza in the oven— she’s already used up her quota for homestyle cooking on the grilled cheese and, besides, Bucky doesn’t seem to mind. If he does then he doesn’t say anything about it, at least. He pounds back five slices— she really doubts he hates it that much. She eats three. Had it just been her she would have eaten one— maybe. She doesn’t have the energy these days to eat more than that. It’s a paradox, one that has her going to bed tired and waking up exhausted most days.

Something is different with him though. She wants to eat more because it means that she gets to sit a little longer at the creaky wooden table and pretend to be normal. She never thought feeling normal would mean eating cheap pizza with her bodyguard in a safe house but, well, they say normal is relative, right? Usually she eats in the dark, under the glow of whatever movie she deems fit to fill the silence that night. Sitting across from him makes her feel like she has some semblance of her old life back. Like she has a life at all— even if he’s being paid to sit there and listen to her prattle on about nothing.

After dinner is a little more awkward. She spends the next two hours milling about, pretending to read this book of dogs she had found earlier on the coffee table. She had always wanted a dog when she was younger, one of those huge great danes, charcoal black and big enough to snuggle with. The kind that would keep her safe and follow her everywhere she goes. There’s one just like she had always imagined on page one hundred and nine. Sleek and beautiful and huge. That’s probably why she keeps going back to the book.

All she really does is look at the pictures, not that she would tell him that. She can see him glancing at her every so often and she would like to keep her guise of being smart up for as long as possible. She wasn’t lying when she told him that she was the top of her class— she was, and valedictorian too. She is smart. Well, smart when it comes to technology at least. The rest is debatable. Her mother used to tell her that she’s book smart— that if she were kidnapped and dropped off in the middle of nowhere she would be screwed.

If only her mother could see her now— could see that she’s holding up.

You know, if holding up means wanting to scream and cry and throw this stupid Big Book of Dogs against the wall because she can’t scream and cry. She’s holding up on the outside— that’s what matters. If everyday is as bearable as this one then she’ll be able to do all three before she knows it. She’ll be able to sit in the dark, spoon in one hand, Chunky Monkey in the other, and throw whatever the fuck she wants at the wall. For now, though, she just has to look at the pictures of the great dane and swallow her screams like they’re ice cream.

Eventually she stands, shifting on her feet, trying not to cringe when the boards squeak under her. It doesn’t make his head turn and look at her— how can it when his stare has been burning into her since before she stood up? She doesn’t really know what to say— it’s nine-thirty and she could sit there for another two hours— two or three or seven, what’s the difference?— but there’s no point in pushing the inevitable. Eventually she is going to have to get ready for bed and then, by default, actually go to bed.

How is that going to work?

A picture of her laying next to him pops into her mind, one where her limbs are curled tight against her chest, her legs ramrod straight, afraid to even do so much as breathe. Not out of fear that he’d hurt her or anything like that, though. Out of fear that she’d embarrass herself is more accurate. That she would wake up— if she even slept at all— with her body sprawled on top of his like the protagonists in one of her cheesy, unrealistic rom-coms. This isn’t a movie— she doesn’t want it to be. If this is her life’s movie then she wants to have a word with the director. She wants out. This isn’t the script she agreed to.

She doesn’t know what to say so she doesn’t say anything, only gathers her bag from where she stashed it next to the couch. A threadbare messenger bag big enough for a few pairs of leggings, her older brother’s Dodgers t-shirt, and some toiletries. She slings it over her shoulder, acutely aware of the fact that his gaze never leaves her, watching as she straightens and turns, meeting his icy blue eyes without so much as a hint of shame forming in them. Why should he be ashamed? It’s his job— he’s being paid to stare. That’s what she tells herself. It doesn’t make her feel any less exposed— any less seen.

For a moment she just looks at him— like really, truly looks at him. Sure, she’s been with him for roughly twelve hours now. Theoretically she’s had plenty of time to look at him. And of course she has— there’s no way she could have avoided it even if she wanted to. She has looked at him just not like this. Not the details. The facts. That’s what this is— a fact finding mission. Yeah, that sounds right— that’s what she’ll say if he asks, at least.

She takes in his face first, craning her neck slightly to do so. Slightly means far enough that your head touches your shoulders now. She ticks things off in her head as goes— bronzed skin, strong jaw, straight nose. She finds it hard to believe that his nose has never been broken. She drops lower— pink lips, the bottom one fuller. She doesn’t linger there despite the ache that grows in her throat. When was the last time she kissed a man? Too long ago.

She continues on her mission before she has time to stop and think about what it means to stare at her bodyguard’s lips and think about kissing. Absolutely nothing good, that’s what. She tries to distract herself with his broad shoulders and the way his henley stretches at the seams, scrounging for any and every ounce of space. For a moment it works. She starts thinking about the kind of regime one would have to undergo in order to get to his size, then about where he has to buy his clothes, before finally landing on what it would feel like to slip her arms into his shirt and to be totally engulfed—

Nope— she flicks her eyes even further down, skimming over something that, though she’s been looking at it for the better half of all day, she still can’t wrap her head around. His hand. His metal hand. She can feel his stare turn to lead on her forehead— feel him waiting for her to ask.

She’s not going to.

Not because she doesn’t want to know the story. Of course she wants to know! Her whole life is— or at least was— technology. She wants to know why he needs it, who made it, what it’s made of, if it’s connected to his nervous system, if it’s— the idea is there. She’s curious— she’s a scientist. Just like it’s his job to keep her alive, it’s her job to be enthralled by innovation.

That doesn’t mean she’s going to ask though. She likes him too much to do that. He’s nice enough to her and he doesn’t treat her like the little orphan girl that everyone else does. He doesn’t tiptoe around her— not that he could. He’s too big for that. He just doesn’t treat her like a freak, so she won’t treat him like an experiment.

And, of course, he’s a human being not a machine. That’s probably more important. She likes him and he’s a human. Priorities or whatever.

She meets his gaze again, watching him watch her, her face setting on fire. “Bedtime?”

What the fuck is wrong with you, y/n?

He presses his lips together, holding her stare for a beat before shrugging his shoulders, giving the henley a run for its money. “Bedtime.”

She turns at that, scampering up the stairs, listening to the thumping of his boots against the hardwood. It’s not a race but it’s also not not a race— she wants to get to the bathroom before he can so she can lock the door. She needs five minutes. That’s it. Just five minutes. Maybe it is a race.

“Hey— shit— wait!” She doesn’t, she only pumps her legs harder, almost slipping as she bolts into the bathroom, slamming the door and clicking the lock shut.

He really thought she wasn’t going to try that, huh? She learned her lesson this afternoon— the man takes his job very seriously.

The knob jiggles and she sticks her tongue out at it, finally in a space where she can let her bones relax. For the first time all day it feels like her skin isn’t on fire. It’s weird— she almost misses it. The door handle jiggles harder. Almost.

Five minutes, that’s all she needs.

His voice cuts through the door and she almost groans out loud. “You know I’m supposed to—”

“I know—” she starts pulling things out of her bag, hastily dropping what she doesn’t need and gathering what she does onto the vinyl countertop, very much aware of the ticking clock— “but the window in here isn’t even big enough for me to crawl out of so I think I can brush my teeth, yeah?”

She can practically feel the stress rolling off him, seeping under the crack between the door and the tiled floor. Half of her feels guilty but the other half couldn’t care less— she’s a grown ass woman and she will use the toilet without help.

She hears him let out a loud sigh and practically jumps in excitement— she won. “Fine— you get ten minutes, got it? Ten minutes and then I break this door down.”

“Aye-aye, captain.” Thank gods he can’t see her right now or she would most definitely melt through the ground.

“You’re down to seven now.”

She shakes her head at her reflection, scrunching her nose and rolling her eyes at herself— “That’s fair.”

She hurries to slather some toothpaste on her brush, plopping it into her mouth as she shimmies out of her daytime leggings and into her nighttime ones. A fashion icon. She somehow also manages to take her dad’s hoodie off, avoiding the toothbrush and replacing the tank top underneath with a fresh one from her bag. Take that, Barnes.

She scrubs at her teeth, simultaneously digging through her pile of things for the deodorant she knows is in there. She finds it after a moment, rinsing her mouth and running the bar one too many times over her armpits— there’s absolutely no way she’s about to go into that bedroom with even the slight possibility of smelling bad. Especially when she still doesn’t know the sleeping arrangements.

She swipes her things back into her bag, shoving them in roughly, not noticing the hairbrush teetering precariously on the edge of the counter. It’s like it’s taunting her, just waiting to get her in trouble. That’s exactly what it does, too— just as her eyes meet the sinister blue plastic it’s too late, the brush already hurtling off the edge and crashing against the floor. Of course it has to hit the tiles head on and miss the hoodie by an inch. Time freezes for a moment when she hears the clang— well, there go the last three minutes of solitude.

She scrambles back just as the door slams open, fully expecting it but not any less startled, the area where the lock would be splintering into a million tiny pieces of wood— of dust— he pulverized the door! Her heart pounds furiously as Bucky surges forward, his jean clad legs pressing against her exposed shoulder, his body rigid as he does a full circle of the tiny bathroom, yanking back the shower curtain as if an assassin would really think that is the best hiding place. God she’s so fucking mortified.

He doesn’t move away from her when he finally looks down, his dark eyebrows drawn into a tight line, chest heaving so hard she wonders if the material is going to split right down the middle. His leg against her is hot, even through the material. Almost as hot as her face— face, neck, shoulders, toes.

“What happened?”

She meekly holds up the blue plastic brush, squeezing her eyes shut. “He just snuck up on me Bucky— I thought I was a goner.”

She cracks an eye open to his clenched jaw, his still heaving chest now much lower— closer. He takes the brush from her hand, setting it on the counter before offering his own hand— the flesh hand— out to her. She takes it, letting him effortlessly pull her body from the ground without so much as even a grunt. Before she knows it she’s eye level with the buttons on his shirt, leaning all the way back in order to meet his simmering crystal eyes.

“We’re not doing that again.” We’re. As in both of them— a team.

She tries to keep from trembling at his deep voice. It doesn’t work. He notices— of course he notices— and takes a step back. She doesn’t have the heart— or the gall— to tell him that she’s not shaking because she’s afraid of him.

“It was a hairbrush.” She sighs, curling her arms around her chest, suddenly feeling more exposed than ever under the surprisingly bright fluorescents.

Of course now, when she’s standing in a flimsy tank top, is the one time the lights aren’t dimmed.

He doesn’t back down, seething his words between his teeth. “This time— this time it was a hairbrush.”

She shakes her head, dropping her eyes and bending to scoop up her hoodie— she doesn’t want to see him angry at her. It makes her feel guilty; like her her chest is caving in on itself. She doesn’t need that on top of everything else.

“Fine, whatever.” She grabs her bag, brushing by him.

She knows that she’s being childish. She isn’t an idiot, contrary to what her mind likes to tell her. She’s just exhausted. Exhausted of having to always look over her shoulder, exhausted of wondering who’s going to die next— if she’s going to die next, exhausted of having to actively try to stay alive. She’s just exhausted in general. She doesn’t want to die but, gods, if she isn’t so damn tired of having to think about it. Aren’t you supposed to just live? Not think about living?

She pushes open the door to the bedroom, dumping her bag next to the cedar chest at the end of the bed, refusing to turn around when she hears his footsteps— much quieter than she’s yet to hear them— enter behind her. She crosses her arms again, digging her fingers into the flesh hard enough to give herself something to focus on other than how much she wants to rip every strand of hair from her head. Her eyes wander over the olive duvet, noting how the color makes the black iron frame pop in contrast. Maybe she should change up her bedroom back home.

She bites her lip— she’s stalling. It’s a queen sized bed, more than big enough for both of them. Maybe she should offer it to him. There’s barely any room on the floor to sprawl out, only a small space either next to the dresser beside the bed or in front of the chest. Either way he would probably have to lay as stiff as possible to avoid bumping his limbs. The right thing to do would be to offer it to him— to take the floor.

She listens as he takes a step, the air behind her shifting, and she tenses. “Look, I think we should talk—”

“Do you want the bed?” She tries to keep her tone balanced— to keep from hurling the words at him like daggers. Or like hair brushes.

“I’m serious, I’m sor—”

She whirls around, her hair flying around her face, features schooled but tone edging closer towards being unhinged— she just needs to sleep. “Do you want the bed?”

She doesn’t meet his eyes— she’s tired of that game, it's time to start a new one. This one’s called how long can y/n stare at the buttons on his henley until before she sets them on fire out of sheer willpower. His chest deflates, his hands twitching at his sides before curling and slipping behind his back. He’s looking at her— of course he is. It’s all he does. It’s his job.

“You take it.” He says it so quietly she barely hears it, his tone the picture of resignation. It doesn’t make her feel good— she didn’t think it would though.

His stare never leaves her. She’s still not looking at him but she can tell. It makes her skin burn from her ears all the way down to her chest, her skin prickling like she's being prodded by a thousand mini suns. She feels like she’s in the desert and she forgot to put sunscreen on. Is this what flowers feel like? Does the sun beat down so relentlessly on them that they feel like they’re being set on fire? As relentlessly as he watches her?

It’s his job, it’s his job, it’s his job.

“Okay.”

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

She lays in bed for three hours, eyes wide open and body pin straight. The room is pitch black, spare a hint of light pouring in from under the door. It shines a stripe onto the olive duvet, one that she just barely flicks her wrist back and forth through. Not enough to ruffle the loud blanket— which for the record crinkles louder than a chip bag when she moves even an inch underneath it— but enough to watch the light dance over her skin and keep her from going completely mad. She feels like a cat chasing a laser— entirely moronic but strangely entertained. Alas, all good things must come to an end.

By the time the fourth hour rolls around she is beyond restless. The strip of light got old a half hour ago— which, granted, kept her entertained for far longer than she would be willing to admit but still. Now she wants to move. She needs to move. If she were home she would still be awake. The digital clock beside the bed flashes one-thirty, scarlet red and glaring at her. It’s not even close to the ungodly hour in which she usually crawls into her bed, pulling the blanket over her head and praying for the sun to magically disappear. Not even close.

She can practically hear Lindsy Lohan calling her name— it’s Wednesday, y/n. On Wednesdays we wear pink. Yeah, she knows Lindsy! Unfortunately the big man on the floor doesn’t know that. Usually her Wednesday's aren’t so blocked— is it even Wednesday? It doesn’t matter. She just wants to watch Mean Girls now— with or without the Chunky Monkey.

She waits another ten minutes, mulling the idea over as the anticipation steadily grows in her stomach, churning her organs into soup over the idea of having to tiptoe past her sleeping bodyguard. She holds her breath a few times, making sure his breathing is even and calm. Making sure that he’s asleep. Each time his breaths are the same, gentle, even hiss of air. In, out, pause. In, out, pause. Over and over and over again. For a moment she debates staying and just listening to him breathe for the rest of the night. But no— that’s creepy and she’s sure that she can be in and out without him waking up in the hour and thirty-seven minutes it takes to watch the movie.

Yes she counted and every minute is worth the risk— she’s doing it!

She takes a deep breath, sliding as silently as she can under the covers. Each movement feels magnified— like someone is holding a microphone to her limbs. She just prays that the microphone isn’t connected to his ears. What are the odds that he’s a heavy sleeper? Nevermind, she doesn’t want to know.

After what feels like an eternity of inching her way to the edge of the bed her foot finally shoots over the edge, greeting the chilly air and sending a jolt racing up her spine. She’s really doing it. She slips the other out next, rising onto her elbows and holding the position. She can’t see her legs— hell, she can’t see her hand two feet in front of her face— but she can feel the space depleting as she slips off the mattress. Biting back a hiss as her toes brace against the hardwood, she just barely stops herself from hopping up and down. If she were home she would amp up the theatrics, maybe throw in a squeal for good measure— forget technology, being a drama queen is her true calling.

Just not when there’s a man who she needs to stay asleep laying a few feet away from her.

She shuffles blindly forward, trying to remember where she saw him lay down before she turned off the lamp. That was four hours ago though and she’s starting to think that all that time playing with the crack of light has fried her brain. She thinks he’s near the chest but she can’t be sure.

She could swear—she could drop the loudest f-bomb this planet has ever known. She would, too, if she knew it wouldn’t wake him up. All she wants to do is watch some petty, pretty girls fight over a mediocre brunette. Is that really too much to ask for?

No— the answer is no. So she does what any self respecting woman would do in that situation and she wings it. She guesses. That’s respectable, right? Right. She takes each step with care, searching for any warm spots that might give her a hint as to where he is, all the while chasing after that little crack of light like it’s heaven. Because that’s what it is— a haven from having to lay alone with her thoughts all night.

As was to be expected sooner rather than later, her toes brush against a rather hot patch of wood and she freezes. He’s here— somewhere— she just has no idea where here is. She squints, searching for even a hint of the man. When she comes away with nothing, the scream— the one that’s never quite gone, always just simmering in the back of her throat— surges. She has to swallow— swallow, gag, same thing— in order to keep from foiling her own plan.

She brushes her foot forward. Slowly. Painfully, excruciatingly slowly. When her toes brush against the folds of a blanket she gasps. It slips out before she can stop it and she plasters a hand over her mouth as soon as it happens, praying that it isn’t too late— that there’s still a chance she can make it.

She hears Bucky shift on the ground, holding her breath, her toes a mere foot away from the soldier. She counts in her head— one, two, three, oh fuck is he moving, four— before taking another step. Repeating the process, it takes four rounds of this little tip toe game until her hands finally land against the door frame, searching through the darkness until her fingers curl around the knob. Mean Girls here she comes.

“Where ya’ going?” Bucky’s voice cuts through the night easily, rich and deep and cruel.

There isn’t even a hint of sleep in his tone— he was awake the entire time. Her face flushes, her neck searing hot. She can almost hear her skin crackling where the straps of her tank top touch her. She should have known he wouldn’t be a deep sleeper— or sleeping at all, apparently. Damnit.

“I, ah, was just going to the bathroom?” Really? The bathroom?

She has never been so thankful for the dark than she is in this moment, if only because he can’t see the way she rolls her eyes at her own stupidity and scrunches her entire face up. She can’t scream— that idea’s already been scrapped— so it’s the next best thing. That doesn’t stop her throat from bubbling though, the frustration knocking on her windpipe like the friendly neighbour back for even more sugar.

“You’re a terrible liar, you know that?” She swears for a moment she can hear a hint of laughter in his voice, just enough to make the accusation bearable.

She whirls around, hands glued to her hips and trying not to slam her foot down like an insolent toddler. Something hot flares up in her chest— something which she hasn’t felt in ages. Anger. It makes her want to smack him. She wouldn’t, of course, but she wants to— she wants to wipe the smirk out of his words. She wants to more than she’s wanted to do anything in a very long time.

“What do you want me to say then, hmm?”

She can just make out the way Bucky pushes himself up, his shadowy figure now taking up more space. Taking up space in general— of course now she can see him. If she were closer to him she is sure his head would sit above her belly button, right under her brea— stop that, y/n!

“How ‘bout the truth?” God she can still hear that insufferable smirk.

“That was the truth.”

“It wasn’t.”

His breath comes in hot puffs against her stomach— he’s closer than she thought. She doesn’t realize her tank top has ridden up until his face is inches away from her exposed skin. She tries not to shudder as she yanks the material back down her abdomen. Traitorous body!

She wants to rip her hair out— again. “Yes, it was—”

He’s standing now, pushing his way towards her in the dark until she can feel the heat rolling off his body, face to face with a hulking chest. “Just tell me what you want so we can do it, alright?”

There it is again— we.

She can’t breathe. This seems to be becoming a trend— her not being able to breathe when he’s around her. This time it’s her fault though. She squishes her eyes closed, taking a moment to pull in some much needed air. It does little to help her— it smells like nutmeg and cinnamon. She has no idea how he manages to smell like a bakery— or how she hasn’t noticed until now, when she needs more than anything to pull away from the warmth and not fall deeper into it. Unprofessional, y/n— you’re supposed to be the grieving daughter.

She takes another moment, ignoring how he shifts on his feet, clearly becoming impatient, before finally whispering— “I wanted to watch a movie.”

A pause— a long one— before a soft ‘okay’.

For a moment she thinks she hears him wrong— no way the giant soldier is down for movie night with her. Shouldn’t he be telling her to go back to bed? Telling her that it isn’t in his job description to babysit her— to keep her entertained? Surely he doesn’t actually want to watch a movie.

“You don’t have to—”

“Actually, I do.” Oh yeah. He has to follow her wherever she goes. She almost forgot that she might die.

Die for what— wanting to watch a god damn movie?

“Forget it— it was stupid.”

She goes to brush past him, tucking her shoulders up and into her neck, trying to put some space between them as she tucks tail and slips back towards the bed. Talk about a busted ego.

A hand curls around her forearm, halting her retreat. “Let’s watch a movie— can’t sleep anyway.”

She swallows thickly. If she were to turn her cheek a few inches she is sure it would brush against his shoulder.

“Are you sure?”

“‘Course I am.”

She nods— she knows he can’t see her but she doesn’t trust her voice— and that’s how she ends up watching Mean Girls with a man large enough to rip her in half with his bare hands. A few times she glances over at him, searching through the glow of the TV to the other side of the supple leather couch where his gaze remains locked on the screen. She’s even sure she hears a few breathy laughs— like he’s trying not to laugh but he can’t help it.

The big bad bodyguard likes chick flicks.

About halfway through something unexpected happens— her eyelids begin to heavy. It’s stange, the clock on the wall reads only slightly past two in the morning. She never sleeps before six. Regardless, though, she curls her legs into her body, tucking them under the hoodie she had replaced before leaving the room. Her head slopes against the arm of the couch, eyes fluttering a few times before dropping shut. She’s not going to sleep, obviously— just resting her eyes.

She feels something heavy pool on her lap and the faintest wisps of fingers— some warm and some cold— adjusting the new weight. It brushes against her shin— a blanket. He put a blanket on her. She pulls it closer, dragging it over her cheek, trying her best to stave off the sleep tugging at her limbs. Maybe a conversation will help. There are a few things she’s been meaning to tell him.

“I didn’t mind it.” She whispers it but she’s sure he can hear her over the all but muted TV.

The couch cushions shift, sinking for a moment before stilling. She can picture him facing her now, his head tilted, blue eyes serious. Always on alert, always ready to defend.

“What?” He even sounds defensive— like he’s waiting for her to drop a bomb on him.

Silly man, can’t you see that she can barely even force the last word out of her mouth with how tired she is?

“Doll. I—” she yawns, pulling her limbs closer to her, tucking a hand under her head— “I didn’t mind it.”

He doesn’t say anything right away. If it were daytime she’s sure she would have cared but for now she’s okay not feeling any of the prescribed embarrassment.

“Oh.”

She doesn’t say anything else, only snuggles deeper into the arm of the couch. It must be the exhaustion talking— that’s what she’ll tell herself tomorrow anyway when she’s forced to confront this conversation again. For now she just gives in, letting herself fall into the darkness without fear for what feels like the first time in months.

_________________

Tag List: @xhollycowx @remembered-license @dumble-daddy @hellotvshowtrash @thesummerbucky @elijahs-wife @cari1bunny @im-just-star-dust

[nysus-temple]

Could you explain the whole poseidon-demeter-persephone thing you have? no offense i'm just curious about it!

*cracks knuckles* thank you anon, time to write a big ass paragraph.

I'm always glad to talk about my book since due to my studies I haven't been able to finish the last parts yet, neither finding a place to publish it, so everytime I can talk about it I'm more than glad !!

Origins:

Demeter and Poseidon are both nature gods, Demeter is the manifestation of earth nature and Poseidon of water nature. All gods care for living beings equally ( except, well, some ), but they all have their preferences wich is just like the humans, some prefer cats over dogs and the gods can think that way too. Demeter and Poseidon were like that too, Demeter couldn't stan animals and Poseidon didn't get what was so good about plants. That's how they started talking more together, it began as a discussion at first.

Poseidon is the one out of the first olimpians to be most likely a disaster, he isn't really good at putting emotions aside when logic is needed. Demeter is the other way around, she has ALWAYS put they well-being of all life forms first, never the feelings.

That was until Poseidon proposed to her.

She didn't want to get married ( not in a Hestia way, since she was ok being in a relationship ) because she just wasn't a fun of so many "contract" stuff, that's what she considered weddings to be like. Specially since Hera was the one behind all the marriage thingy and as much as she loves all her siblings, she never trusted that much the youngest ones. She loved spending time with Poseidon, she loved the fact that he was so careless.

❝ There was one day when he scared me jumping out of some bushes, and due to my... lack of trust, I suppose, I started running away to the point of turning myself into a horse to escape from him... your father, fearing his intentions ❞ said Demeter to her daughter, who was listening with a very unusual attention.

❝ You were running away... from my father... ❞ mumbled Persephone, shaking, ❝ that can only mean that I wasn't meant... to be born. ❞

The nature goddess got up from the ground surrounded by grass, resting a hand on a tree trunk.

❝ I haven't finished speaking, Persephone ❞ she complained, sighing ❝ he turned into a horse too and didn't stop chasing me until he caught me. ❞ she let out a laugh, shaking her head tiredly ❝ He grabbed my arm and said "I caught you!" and... and then he let me go, saying one last sentence before laughing out loud: "now it's your turn, try to catch me if you can!"

Persephone frowned, blinking more than once trying to find some logic in that story.

❝ What you're telling me is that dad... I mean, my father- he- was playing a child game with you all along? He wasn't trying to do any harm? But- the mortals said he... ! ❞

Demeter looked at her companion once more before laughing again.

❝ Oh my dear Poseidon, how much time has passed since you have last seen our precious daughter, who is just as distrustful as the goddess you once loved? ❞

The other woman didn't say a word, she just kept looking at her melancholic mother.

[ The ram that ate grapes ] - Chapter ??? - ( Not published yet)

Demeter was distrustful, Poseidon was naive.

Daughter:

Poseidon accepted Demeter's wish of not getting married and their relationship didn't have nor caused any troubles at all, wich was good news for deities in general, since they could keep up with their god condition without feeling any struggles with it.

They even had a child ! A child that the oracles said would be different from any other god that had been born before, news that meant they descendant would most likely inherit all the good qualities of the both nature deities. This made the king of the olimpians happy, Zeus, both the parents, Demeter and Poseidon, and even the queen of the heavens, Hera.

Except, the oracle who predicted all of this news, Hestia and the one who was listening to her in silent, Hades. But none of them said anything due to their lack of interactions with their familly, who was gonna listen anyway.

❝ That child... ❞ mumbled Hekate in the darkness, without letting any of the two gods see her, ❝ That damn Hestia was right again, the little one has horns... big ram horns... ❞

❝ She's not crying! She's not crying! ❞ screamed Demeter, holding her descendant while feeling extremelly anxious ❝ She can't die just after being born, I refuse! Poseidon call Eileithyia! ❞

❝ No, Demeter, pay attention! She is actually breathing, even if she is... being very silent with it ❞

❝ Have you gone absolutely insane?! but before she could keep complaining, the child moved a bit in her arms.

The nature goddess looked at the little girl with both confusion and fear, the creature was actually breathing, she had a heartbeat.

A very low and quiet one. No crying, no shaking, she was like a little doll.

❝ Her heart... is glowing a little ❞ said the father, who was still next to both of them ❝ Is this some kind of curse or whatever... we should go to Hekate, perhaps... ❞

But the mother hold his arm, shaking her head as a way of saying "no".

❝ She doesn't need anyone else, just us. ❞ she replied, letting out a sigh filled with desesperation.

Hekate smiled for herlself while she was walking away.

❝ Oh little sheep with horns, your glowing heart wishes to become the new Mother Gaia, but your body accepted its fate as a mortal being ❞ she kept mumbling until she had disappeared completely.

[ The ram that ate grapes ] - Chapter ??? - ( Not published yet)

The child grew up with her two parents only, without coming out of Demeter's realm. Poseidon visited them due to the condition of living in the sea and the little girl had only been told about the rest of the world by her mother, she never saw anything herself, not even his family of gods and goddesses.

That child was Persephone, a goddess... as her parents think, without any abilities at all. She was supposed to be born as an exceptional nature goddess due to her parents, but she wasn't, at least not as it was thought.

It's true, Persephone was able to create some little crops, not much at all compared to her mother, and interacted with living beings, but in a completely different way compared to her father, since she wasn't able to protect any animal Poseidon gave her, neither any plant. She ended all of them, just by looking at them.

So in the end, they went to ask Hekate for advice. But the goddess only replied with a simple sentence: "She's the weakest goddess to have ever been born, she can be compared to Hebe in that way, fragile and with no abilities that can be mentioned in a hymn." And then, before disappearing into the darkness as she always did, a last thing was said: "She has a spirit as strong as Mother Gaia's and a body weaker than a mortal's one."

Demeter only understood one thing: that her daughter couldn't be saved, that she was in the worst conditions ever. She never let her go out of the realm, not even interact with her father at some given point, afraid of her diying and loosing that precious inmortality all deities had.

Poseidon... well, he WAS going to ask Zeus for any advice, but ended up not doing it due to his own pride, thinking he wouldn't know anything better since he was the youngest Cronida. And before he could even think of asking Hades... his daughter was kidnapped by him.

Underworld:

Even after Zeus made an agreement between Demeter and Hades to who would keep Persephone at different points of the year, the girl who was in the middle still didn't say anything. Why should she? She couldn't feel fear when she was kidnapped, she couldn't feel sadness when she wasn't with her mother, she couldn't feel anger when she stopped seeing her father.

She just couldn't feel. Her glowing heart was beating slow, without making any noise at all. She didn't even feel a single emotion, good or bad, when the only serious fight happened between her parents, who never saw eachother again after that. It's not like she wanted to act that way, she just couldn't feel like doing anything at all.

"Please... smile once, just once, for your mother" Demeter kept saying to her daughter, who only shrugged and blinked as a response.

Persephone knew how much both of her parents sacrificed for her, but she still didn't feel like owning them anything, not even a simple smile or hug.

Everytime she had to go to the Underworld, with Hades it was the same. She didn't feel neither good or bad things towards him, no matter how hard he tried. She was a good queen in those terms, since no one was able to trick her like her husband had been once.

It's true, she was mentally a very strong goddess and phisically a extremelly weak one, if Hades wanted to... maybe she wouldn't still be here, at least not as we know her.

Hekate came to visit her many different times: "You indeed have a spirit as strong as Mother Gaia's and a body weaker than a mortal's one... oh! Little sheep with horns!"

But Persephone never knew how to react to that.

Demeter and Poseidon never saw eachother again until Zagreus, Persephone's son, was born. The first time ever they saw their daughter smiling, when she had the child in her arms, crying with rage, when he was kidnapped just like she had once been... showing emotions.

That time, they treated eachother as strangers, feeling akward to be both of them with Persephone at the same time, who was now, the one asking them to smile this time.

"Oh little sheep with horns..." Persephone could hear Hekate in the background, even if the goddess wasn't actually there.

"Flowers, fish and a little sheep..."

[antiloreolympus]

7 Anti LO Asks

1. tbh the fact rachel purposely didnt let persephone have any romantic relationships before hades gives the impression that had persephone had any other experience, she'd see right through him and not want him because she had better. not having any other point of reference isnt good. its setting up that hades can get away with whatever he wants because she doesnt know anything else. thats really not a healthy dynamic to have even while dating, much less eternal marriage.

2. You know what’s weird? How Hades is a 2000+ year old being and still has not gone through his trauma. We know that he was eaten by Kronos when he was around 8 and stayed there for like 13 years if i’m correct (in the LO version), so we can assume that when he got out he was in his early to mid twenties. And then he fought in the war which we don’t know how long it was in LO bc there’s no info on that at all but let’s assume that that lasted 100 years.. he’s still pretty young there. So how is it that he’s only now getting help for his traumas? Which we don’t even see actually, it’s just a sentence said by him when he adopts the little dog. We don’t even know how old he actually is bc it’s always assumed it’s 2000+ but 2000+ years old could mean 2030 years old or 2999 years old or even 3000 and more and he has just lost track of time. All of these years and he still has not processed or made any progress?? At all?! Unless therapists are a new thing in the Underworld but we have Chiron who says that she was a physician in the old world but got tired of it so she decided to study the human mind. And that must have been quite some time ago. So why exactly is Hades a 2000+ broken man who needs to be fixed by a 19 year old going through her own trauma? 

3. The underworld being an infertile world doesn’t make sense at all. If we compare the underworld with the underground it’s a fact that where there’s decay if is more fertile. Not to mention that in the myths the underworld is in fact considered a fertile land. We know that the underworld is full of souls, and souls are considered what give life to a body or place, so the underworld being a desert still doesn’t make sense at all. 

4.If I may also add, just because LO is a “retelling” doesn’t mean it doesn’t harm Greece or Greek people. They still exist, funnily enough, they didn’t all die once Alexander the Great stop conquering. They’re a country full of strong, passionate people who have gone and are still going through massive problems and hardships. They are also a country who are still, at best, ignored, or at worst, mocked for the suffering they must endure by nations that are far from economic instability and from actual war zones like Greece is. Despite all that, their mythos are seen with great reverence to this day, and they don’t “gatekeep” it, you can ask any Greek in here and they’ll tell you they enjoy stuff like the Disney version or PJO just fine, but you have to stop and wonder why LO is a Greek myth product that is almost universally despised to Greeks who know it exists.

It’s pretty obvious why, RS not only butchers the myths completely to where they don’t even resemble what they once were, but her constantly silencing and badmouthing actual Greeks who want to help her make it more accurate is not a great look. She’s acting as if she, a white woman from an island made of literal England reject descendants, somehow not only knows more about Greek myth than actual Greeks, but that she OWNS the mythology and she can do whatever she wants with it, and only those who agree to her biases know what they’re talking about while everyone else is wrong, so obviously Greeks don’t know Greek mythology! Even media products in the same, non-Greek realm as her get her ire. Case in point, we know she’s hostile to PJO, she badmouths the Disney movie all the time, she complained about Blood of Zeus (emphasize on ZEUS) didn’t revolve around HxP, and despite them being heavily promoted by her own employers, she never speaks of Punderworld or HxP ficlets, even when her fans harass them and in Ficlets case purposely got them kicked off Canvas for “copying” LO, meanwhile she will happily promote OSP because they confirm her biases and kissed her butt in their HxP video. What does this tell us? Because it doesn’t seem very nice.

Of course she’s allowed as a creator to play with the mythology as she wants, but even then there are still limits to adhere to, and she never does it because obviously her half-baked concept of the “mythology” is way better than the 3000+ years of texts and interpretations out there. Sure she has people flinging themselves at her to offer her help for free, especially Greeks and academics, but what would they know over her, the self proclaimed master of mythology itself? Obviously she created it all in 2016 when she decided to draw a sexy pink girl and that’s it. Greece and everyone else was just using a fake version this whole time! 

It seems from her POV, Greece ands its citizens are, in her own words “haters” who apparently know less about Greece and its own mythology than her, a white woman who uses a fanfic-writing white supremacist as a main source. The ego on this woman is astonishing.

5. May I also add to the age discourse, something like Edward and Bella can get away with it because Edward stopped aging physically, mentally, and emotionally at 17, and even in story there is a logic to them still going to HighSchool after all this time. He may be 117 age wise, but he’s at the same exact level as Bella in every other regard. That doesn’t excuse his creepy actions, of course, but there is in canon logic to it to justify it and make sense.

I’d say LO could use this too, but tbh it wouldn’t work. Either it’d involve making a CEO king as immature and childish as a 19 year old (not great) or it’d have a 19 year old suddenly be way wiser beyond her years which wouldn’t make much narrative sense, but also has some really creepy implications to it. Anyway RS dug herself into a stupid hole and doesn’t know how to get out of it. 

6. im in the same boat 😭 i was watching one of those LO critique videos you posted and they were showing panels from early on and i just thought "they photoshopped this, right? theres no way it looked this bad. they're just goofing around with this" and nope, that's exactly how they looked the video didnt change a thing. the bright colors really were distracting your eyes from seeing how bad it looked.

7. Correct me if i’m wrong but in one of the first few episodes wasn’t Hades annoyed with Persephone? Especially at the panel where she wanted to drive his car? Like nothing has really changed in her behaviour with him apart from her being more flirty, but the only change is that Hades started viewing her more sexually. Always thinking about her breasts and butt, and nothing else. Half the time he was thinking about her, he wouldn’t even think of her face. So how exactly is their relationship a romantic and lovely one?