#like the only reason why persephone goes to the underworld its to go see her kids and bc winter must happen | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bruhstories · 3 years

Text

Fate

Summary: The Abduction of Persephone or how Levi couldn’t get you of his head.

Pairing: Hades!Levi x Persephone!Reader

Warnings & Content: nsfw, mentions of rape & incest (cause, you know, Zeus is a fucking entitled asshole and nobody fucking likes him), unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), fingering, language, loss of virginity

Word Count: 5.1 k

A/N: literally the only thing I have to say is that for the purpose of this fic, Hanji has she/her pronouns, and the first few paragraphs are written in third person xD happy reading!

Help me...

Please...

Help... me...

Sweat drips from his forehead and his eyes shoot open. That damned dream again. That sweet voice again. Levi Hades can't comprehend why he was dreaming. Gods don'tdream. His bed seems empty, but he never needed anyone in it. For some reason, now he feels like someone is missing. He gets up, naked body and blank eyes watching over his realm from the balcony of his castle. Empty. Other than the souls of the dead that quietly dance around like little flames, it's empty. Other than Cerberus sleeping peacefully, it's empty. And so damn cold. Mortals mistaken the Underworld for a scorching hot place, but in reality, it's as cold as Levi Hades' heart. If he even has a heart.

He wraps his toga around his sculpted body, a wreath of laurels on his coal-black hair, donning his arms with silver bracelets and rings. Time doesn't exist in the world of the dead, but Levi Hades sticks to a strict schedule. He waves his hand and a scroll and quill magically appear on his marble desk. He can't trust Hermes with this message, and so he gives it to one of his dogs to deliver it to Hanji Hecate. Who better to interpret the meaning of his dream than the goddess of witchcraft herself? LeviHades surrounds himself in thick, grey smoke before he disappears from his bedroom.

Somewhere on Earth, Y/N Persephone is being watched by Zeus. The powerful god cannot resist such a beauty, and he is known for having his way with anyone, even his own daughter. But it's not her time, he thinks, not just yet. She knows this, she knows what will happen to her when she reaches the age of marriage, and at night, when not a soul is awake, she sobs and prays that someone will find her and help her. She is willing to do anything to escape her father's clutches and her dark future. And every night she cries, it rains — it pours.

At the outskirts of the Underworld, Hanji Hecate receives a message. She reads it carefully, and a knot forms in her stomach. The goddess heard the pleas of a girl, whom she believed to be a mortal, but if Levi Hades heard her, too, then it could only be another deity. HanjiHecate closes her eyes and performs a spell in the hopes of locating the desperate girl. It doesn't work. It doesn't work because, unbeknownst to her, Demeter is hiding her daughter from the preying eyes of Zeus.

They searched for weeks, mortal weeks, for the crying goddess, but none of them had any luck. Y/N Persephone is somewhere in the shadows of Demeter, but even she knows her mother can't protect her forever. Zeus gets what Zeus wants eventually. The sun rises over the meadow, but Y/N Persephone doesn't know that because she's stuck weaving in a cave, sweat dripping down her forehead, hairs sticking to her face. The drakons Demeter placed at the entrance of the cave followed Y/N Persephone outside, guarding her as she washes herself in a nearby stream. He isn't supposed to be there. Levi Hades isn't supposed to peer at her naked body and the way she splashes the crystal-clear water. He was supposed to meet with Hanji Hecate and take a walk. He was supposed to go back to the Underworld after that. Yet here he is, spellbound by her gestures, her face, her eyes. And then, she sings. Y/N Persephone begins to sing and all the flowers around him bloom. Levi Hades goes into a shocked state, eyes wide open, brows raised. He knows that voice. He knows it because he's been dreaming it. His scent is picked up by the drakons and he disappears, leaving behind a trail of smoke.

"I found her, Hecate. I found her, but I can't get close to her."

"What do you mean you found her? Just like that?" Hanji Hecate's fingers trace the bark of a tree.

"It was fate. It must be." Levi Hades is desperate now.

"Calm down, Hades. I've never seen you so... twitchy." She laughs, kneeling in the grass. The witch plays with some fallen leaves, brown hair flowing in the wind.

"That's because you didn't see what I did. She started singing and flowers bloomed! I don't know what kind of nymph she is, but she is beautiful. Nothing like I've ever seen before."

"Oh, I never thought I'd live to see the day Hades falls in love." Hanji Hecate laughs again. "So why didn't you approach her?"

"Tch, because she was surrounded by drakons. I don't understand why a mere nymph would need so much protection."

The goddess gasps, all traces of happiness gone from her face, replaced by disappointment and anxiety. Levi Hades takes notice of this and places his cold hand on the witch's shoulder, but she flinches.

"You can't have her."

"You knowher?" His voice is condescending, offended that his good friend hid something like this from him.

"Hades, she's Demeter's daughter, Persephone. She's not just some nymph, but the goddess of spring." Hanji Hecate brings her palms together, forming a triangle. "We can't talk here."

Levi Hades nods and lets himself transported to the Underworld, back to the familiar souls lingering in the air.

"Talk, Hecate." He is impatient and demanding, arms folded across his chest.

"Zeus wants her, and Demeter and I are keeping her hidden." The deity explains with pain in her voice.

"Yes, well, you're not doing a very good job, now, are you?"

"Oi, the drakons noticed you. You don't think they would notice Zeus?" She snaps back, traces of arrogance in her voice.

"Hecate... it's Zeus. What would stop that brat from turning into a drakon fool her?"

The goddess shivers, shifting her weight from side to side.

"Do you have a better idea?"

"I do, actually. I'll bring Persephone here." LeviHades proudly states, but his face is still blank, not once betraying his true feelings.

"You'll... what?" Her mouth is slightly open, bewildered by the god.

"It's the only place Zeus doesn't have access without an invitation. Face it, Hecate, it's a good plan. Better than yours, anyway."

Hanji Hecate is speechless, completely at a loss for words. She ponders over the idea, a hand brought to her chin to think better.

"Alright, but what makes you think she'll just stroll through the gates of the Underworld without a complaint?"

"Oh, you've mistaken my words. I'll forcefully bring her here." He tilts his head, a semblance of a smirk on his lips.

"For fuck's sake, Hades, she's not what you'd expect. And what about me? I promised Demeter I would protect her!" HanjiHecate throws her hands in the air, her shadow taking the form of a raging dog.

"Do notchallenge me, witch. You know I can destroy you in the blink of an eye." LeviHades growls and her shadow restores itself to its natural shape. "Besides, you would still protect her. The Underworld is where you abide."

She knows she shouldn't carelessly be out in the open one hour before her coming of age. But Y/N Persephone, with tears streaming down her beautiful face, embraced her future. She knows Zeus will come for her, and so she willingly gives herself to him. With poppy seeds, she put the drakons to sleep and left the cave, clad in a sheer toga, her body visible through the transparent fabric.

"If you want me, come and get me, father!" Y/N Persephone screams at the skies, the flora surrounding her slowly turning a dark shade of brown and dying, just like her innocence would die tonight. The earth shatters behind her, marigold flames and ashy smoke cracking open the soil. Shadowy figures emerge, grasping the young goddess' limbs and they drag her down, down, down to the Underworld. She is afraid, her heart beats faster as the moonlight disappears, and all she can see is darkness.

"I'm sorry I couldn't be gentler, but I didn't want Zeus to get the wrong idea."

"You're Hades, aren't you?"

"Yes, but please, call me Levi. Persephone, I presume." Levi doesn't smile, but his voice is warm, contrasting the cold that surrounded your body.

"Don't call me that." You spit back, confused as to why you were in his realm in the first place.

"You should be a little more grateful that I saved you, brat." He narrows his eyes down at you.

"Saved me? You abductedme. You're no better than him."

Hanji Hecate was right, you had fire in your soul, and an attitude that would drive Levi over the edge.

"Tch, don't compare me to that pretentious cock." The god scoffs and your expression softens.

"Zeus is a... cock? With a beak and feathers?" You giggle and he almost wants punch himself. How could he forget how innocent you are? Clearly, he's been spending too much time with Minthe.

"That's one way to put it."

"Is there another way?" You ask with your index finger brought to your lips, pure curiosity in your eyes.

"Forget that, you said you didn't want me to call you Persephone. How else should I address you?"

"Y/N." You tell him, eyes peering to the balcony of his castle and you skip to it. "Oh, this place is huge! What are those?" You point at the colourful flames dancing in the air.

"Souls." Levi joins you, resting his arms on the marble railing.

"They're beautiful!" You are in awe, and he is just as mesmerised by your beauty. Not one sane god or goddess would consider the souls of the dead beautiful.

"Look, Y/N, I heard you. In my dreams, I mean. I'm not going to hurt you, I brought you here to rescue you." He lies through his teeth. Levi did want to save you, he still does, but he can't deny the fact that he wanted you all to himself. "I'm gonna mind my own business, you mind yours. Try not to break anything. And don't, under any circumstances, make a mess out of my castle, or my realm."

You lean on the railing, nose scrunched and a hand on your hip.

"What am I supposed to do, then? And what about my mother? What about when spring comes and I have to bring it? What about Zeus?"

Levi grits his teeth, almost regretting his decision of saving you.

"Tch, I'll deal with Demeter. I'll tell Zeus I'm marrying you. You can go bring spring when it's due. Happy?" He pinches the bridge of his nose.

"And you won't taint my innocence?"

Oh, he will taint it, alright. But not just yet.

"I won't do anything you don't want me to do."

"You still didn't answer my first question. What am I supposed to do?" You shift your weight from one leg to the other, impatiently waiting for a proper answer from your captor.

"Anything you want, just don't get in my way when I'm dealing with the dead."

"You're an aggressive little man, you know that?"

Levi can feel a blood vessel bursting on his forehead. You were truly annoying, but he couldn't just sit around and wait for Zeus to have his way with you.

"Anyway, I suppose it is safer to be here." You rolled your eyes. "Got any books?"

"What, you read?" He snorts, a condescending brow arched.

"Don't patronise me. You're the one who abducted me, you could at least try to be nice to me."

Levi sighs. This wasn't how he imagined things would go. He imagined you'd make the perfect housewife and keep him some company.

"First floor. Just stay out of the restricted section."

"Why?"

"Because I said so. Zeus' beard, are you always this irritating?"

"Are you?" You chuckle, a hand hiding your smile.

With another sigh, Levi disappears, leaving you alone. "Great job, Y/N, you made the only person who took a crumb of pity on you to go away." You say to yourself, a pout on your lips.

The Underworld wasn't as bad as you thought. Sure, there was the occasional fire popping from the ground here and there, and you had to be careful not to burn yourself, but overall, it was serene. Some parts of it were scorching hot, but mostly it was cold, and you always brought an extra cloak with you when exploring the realm. Levi wasn't always with you, in fact you haven't seen him in days, but you met his three-headed puppy. Well, puppy wasn't the best word to describe the creature, and it did try to eat you the first time, but you stood your ground and tamed the beast with your singing and eager belly rubs.

"This is a sight I never thought I'd live to see." Levi is shocked, watching his raging dog so calm. "Cerberus never lets anyone but me touch him." He gives the dog a few pats on his back.

"Well, Cerberus likes me better, don't you? Who's a good boy? You are, yes, you are!" You kiss all three muzzles and hug the gigantic beast, the heat of its fuzzy body warming you up.

"Oi, don't get ahead of yourself. Come here, Cerberus." Levi extends his arms and the creature is confused. "I said, come here."

The dog stops wagging its tail and plops next to you with a groan, one head resting in your arms. The shit-eating grin on your face is enough to make Levi sigh.

"See? I told you he likes me better." You poke your tongue out in triumph. You wave your hands and the god watches how you place three daffodil wreaths on each of Cerberus' heads. "Much better!"

"Y/N, he looks silly."

"No, he looks adorable! Here, I made you one, too."

Levi takes the flower crown and inspects it, careful not to crumble the petals.

"What is this?" He asks, marvelling at the beauty of the ice-blue colour of the plant.

"Uh, a flower crown?"

"Yeah, no shit. I meant what flower is this?"

"Oh, it's a blue poppy. One of the rarest plants in the world." You smile. "I think it suits you."

"You're an oddball."

You sit in a lavish chair, all kinds of foods displayed on the table in front of you. Saliva pools in your mouth, but you decide to wait for Levi anyway. It's bad manners to start eating without the host, Demeter taught you that. Gods and goddess don't eat mortal foods, but sometimes they indulge in it, and tonight was one of those nights.

"Here, try this." Levi offers you a strange fruit, something humans have on earth, but different.

"What is it?" You poke your finger at the juicy fruit, sucking the sweetness from your digit.

"It's a pomegranate that only grows in the Underworld."

You pick at the seeds, popping one in your mouth. You couldn't believe something so good could grow in a cold place like this.

"So, what's the occasion?" You ask Levi as you eat three more seeds, the crimson juice staining your lips.

"Our wedding."

You accidentally swallow, choking on saliva and the pomegranate seeds, your fist hammering your chest as you gasp for air.

"What?"

"I told Zeus I'm marrying you and now he wants proof." Levi bluntly states, a chalice of nectar in his hand.

"No."

"You don't have a choice, unfortunately."

"But… I'm supposed to be a virgin. Marriage implies consumption of it." You slam your fists on the table. "My mother-"

"Your mother lied to you. You're a goddess of fertility for fuck's sake." He shrugs and you're shocked by how chilling his voice sounds. Sure, Levi was always brooding and silent, but now he was just inconsiderate. "However, I'm not a man who breaks his promises. I told you I won't do anything you don't want me to."

"Oh, how niceof you. I'm leaving." You stand up, pushing the chair away.

"And go where? Demeter can't protect you forever, and you don't stand a chance against Zeus."

"You know why I hate my name so much, Levi?" You growl, fingernails digging into the wooden table.

"Do, tell."

"Because it means destruction. A fitting name for a goddess of ‘fertility’, don't you think?" The table splits open and all the plates fall to the ground. Your normal, bubbly aura changes suddenly and there's a hint of red in your Y/E/C eyes. "You think I don't stand a chance against Zeus? I'm his offspring." You snap, and instead of flowers falling out of your hair, there's thorns, spikes and rusty leaves all over the place. The uglies, most poisonous plants sprout from the ground and you're no longer the goddess of spring, but the bringer of slaughter, and Levi is impressed. Now he really knows it was faith that brought you together, he knows your place is with him — with the dead.

"Marry me." He says, unmoved by your little show. Unmoved on the outside, because on the inside he wants to bend you over and fuck you silly. His words shouldfuel your rage, but you're too surprised by the fact that he still wants to marry you, despite your outburst.

"Why? Because Zeus wants that?" Vines protrude from your skin and your fingernails turn black. You were completely different than the helpless little girl he rescued that night. You were terrifying. But not to Levi — to him you were fascinating.

"Because I want that."

It was safe to say you had fallen in love with Levi in those nine months since you came to the Underworld. He accepted you the way you were, he accepted your darkness, something not even your mother could do, and that's what triggered your feelings for the god of the dead. You still didn't allow him to call you Persephone, because you still hadn't fully embraced that part of you. Spring was almost due, but you promised Levi you'd go to earth after your wedding. Everyone would be there, including Demeter, which you haven't seen in a long time.

A soft knock interrupts your thoughts.

"Y/N, are you ready?"

"In a second, Hanji!"

"Oh, thank the gods for calling me that. I keep telling everyone I'm tired of Hecate but they don't care." The witch scoffs from the other side of the door.

"Has my mother arrived?" You ask, concern visible in your voice.

"Yes. And she's not happy."

"Hey," you open the door, "thanks for taking the blame and explaining things to her." You hug the goddess and she holds you tight.

"Don't worry about it, kid. It's me who should thank you. I don't know what you did to Levi, but he seems happier. He won't show it because he's a prick, but I can feel it."

You flash Hanji a genuine smile and ask her to fix your veil, to which she gladly accepts before escorting you to the castle grounds. Your mother should do this, but she hated her future groom, or your father, but he was a sick man who only decided to leave you alone because he respected Levi.

Every god and goddess of Olympus is here, even your uncle Poseidon. You emerge from the castle, arm looped around Hanji's and you smirk at Levi's shock. He never thought you could be more beautiful, yet here you are, dressed in silk, flowers on your hand and a thin veil clinging from the peony crown on your head. You catch a glimpse of Demeter before drifting your eyes to your future husband.

"Ladies and gentlemen, gods and goddesses, we have gathered here today to witness and bless the union between Levi, god of the Underworld, and Y/N, goddess of spring." Hanji proudly declares. The ceremony doesn't last too long, and when Levi's lips crush yours in what is your first kiss, thousands upon thousands of plants sprout from the soil, colourful flowers blooming and letting out the sweetest smells known to mankind. Love, he thinks, that's what love smells like.

You're tired from the party, tired from all the talking and mingling, tired from your mother's lecture, and tired from avoiding your father. At least Hera was nice enough to wish you a happy marriage. You pace around your bedroom, sitting on the bed, then standing up again. Levi went to his chamber after the party, but you were expecting, no, you wanted to consume the marriage. You walk to his room, a toga lazily draped over your shoulders, and open the door without a single knock. He's in bed, the only light source being the colourful souls levitating outside his windows. You carefully push the covers and climb into the bed, gently scooching closer to him.

"Psst, husband, are you sleeping?" You poke his shoulder.

"Tch, not anymore." He sighs, not bothering to open his eyes and look at you. "What do you want?"

"Well, I'm glad you asked! Seeing as we're married now, I thought it's only natural for a wife to sleep with her husband." You roll on your side, propping yourself on your elbow. Tentatively, you tug on the fabric of the toga, exposing your shoulders and part of your breasts.

"So sleep." Levi finally lolls his head to the side, facing you. He did not expect to see you sprawled on his bed like that, in a lewd position and a playful smile on your soft lips. "You don't have to do this just because we're married.

"I'm doing it because I want to. And I know you want it, too, Levi." You purr, your fingers grazing over your collarbone.

"It's going to hurt." He warns you, but his hand is already on your thigh.

"I know. But you'll take good care of me, won't you?"

Levi has no idea which one of you is talking — Y/N, goddess of spring, or Y/N, goddess of destruction — and frankly he doesn't even care at this point. As long as he has your approval, he knows he can do whatever he wants. You pull him into a sloppy kiss, obviously inexperienced, but he likes it that way. He likes that you have no idea what you're doing because he can be in control. His hand runs up and down your thigh and you can feel heat building in your core.

"Tingles..." You mumble in his lips with a hazy smile.

"Have you ever touched yourself?" Levi pulls away and you nod. "Show me."

You feel embarrassed and small, but obey nonetheless. Your hand travels between your legs and your fingers touch your already swollen clit, rubbing it in circular motions. Levi watches you with hungry eyes, wanting very hard to abstain, but he can't, and so he takes your nipple in his hot mouth. You whimper at the new sensation, electricity shooting through your body as he snakes a hand between your thighs, two fingers diving into your cunt.

"Ah! L-Levi! So big!" You mewl and he throws his head back, releasing your poor nipple.

"That's nothing compared to what you'll get, you needy brat." He curls his fingers, hitting that sweet spot, and you buck your hips. Despite being a virgin, your body naturally knows what to do. Your spongy walls clench around his digits and Levi can already feel how tight you'll be around his cock. "You're so wet."

"Is t-that a good thing?" You're innocent and pure and you rock your hips back and forth, pathetic moans escaping your lips.

"Fuck, yes." Levi kisses you, and it's nothing like the kiss from your wedding. It's desperate and greedy, and he wants you all to himself. The pace quickens, he's pumping his fingers in and out of you faster and you don't know what to do, so you keep rubbing your clit and the familiar heat of your orgasm flushes through your body. You come undone on his hand, the sinful, squelching sound echoing in the bedroom.

"It didn't hurt at all!" You look at your husband, but there's a hint of mischief in your voice, a playful glisten in your eyes. Levi clicks his tongue, because the worst — and best — is yet to come, and you know it — you're no saint.

"Come here." Levi orders and yanks you by the hair, his aggressive gesture sending a shiver down your spine and into your cunt. "Be a good girl and open that pretty mouth for me."

You obey and part your luscious lips and then you see his cock for the first time — thick and veiny, it slaps your face as it pops out of his undergarments, the tip grazing over your cheeks.

"Levi that's... that's too big." You chew your lower lip and lean back.

"You'll be fine. You said it yourself, I'll take good care of you." He cups your face with one hand, thumb caressing your chin. "Now suck it. Make sure to use lots of spit."

You feel your cheeks hot and test the waters by giving the glistening tip a few licks, tongue swirling around it. It tastes salty, and you find yourself liking this. Levi pats your head, but you feel him tensing with each movement of your tongue.

"Shit." He curses under his breath and when you look up at him with doe eyes, his heart pounds into his chest. You courageously take the tip into your mouth, and with hollowed cheeks, you move further. "Yeah, just like that. Take it all."

Bobbing your head up and down, you try to take it all, but the girth and length is just too much, and tears pool at your eyes from the lack of air, but also from how good it feels to have a fat cock in your mouth. Muffled moans reverberate in your throat, and Levi can feel the vibrations tickling him. He firmly grabs your nape and holds your head in place.

"Trust me and relax, can you do that for me?"

You half-nod, anxious and somewhat excited for what is about to happen. Your husband rocks his hips back and forth slowly before aggressively fucking your poor throat, and you feel the arousal building in your core again. So much for promising your mother you'd always stay a virgin. You want to touch yourself again, but Levi slaps your hand away and thrusts into your mouth, holding your head still until you choke, your fingernails digging into his arm. The god pulls out and you gasp for air, and he almost feels sorry when he sees your pathetic state.

"A-again!" You flash him your pearls in a sultry smile, spit dripping down your chin. Who knew you liked asphyxiation?

"Needy brat."

"Please!"

"Tch, later. Right now, I want to fuck you." Levi growls and he already has you pinned on the bed, arms above your head and legs spread open for him. His cock presses against your slick slit and you brace yourself for the incoming pain. "If you want me to stop, tell me."

You don't have the time to nod when you feel a burning sensation between your legs. Squeezing your eyes shut, you bury the back of your head into the pillow and grip the sheets so tight your knuckles begin to lose their colour. Levi slowly pushes further, another inch buried in your cunt, and you bite on your lower lip. But you don't tell him to stop, instead your spongy walls clench around his cock and another inch gets lost in you.

You never thought gods could feel such immense pain, yet here you are, with a bloody lip from digging your teeth into it and a sore pussy. But the worst thing faded bit by bit when Levi bottomed out into your cunt. The two of you sit still, your husband allowing you to get used to his girth.

"Do you think I bled?" You ask, eyes filled with tears.

"Probably, but I promise it will never hurt like this from now on." He comforts you before licking the blood from your lips. The gesture makes your cunt flutter and Levi takes it as a sign to go on. Slowly, he rocks his hips back and forth, and the molten pain is replaced by tingles and arousal.

"You good?"

"Y-yes, oh, f- yes!"

"You can say fuck, you know?" Levi thrusts once, and it's so deep you feel his cock brush over your cervix.

"Fuck!" You cry out, legs wrapping around his waist to make sure he doesn't pull out. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

"Good girl."

There's no more room for gentle touches and soothing words when your husband fucks you raw. Your hips buck against his to feel that sweet pressure you never knew you longed for. In and out, his cock makes you feel sore and hazy, and you want more. The sound of his balls slapping your ass makes your mouth water and your eyes glossy, and Levi feels selfish. He pulls out, turns you over and takes you from behind, like a rabid dog fucking a bitch in heat. And you are in heat — you love the way his thrusts make you feel dumb, the way his cock stretches you, the way he uses and abuses your tight little cunt. Everything is so new to you and you adore every bit of it.

"Shit, I'm close." Levi warns you, his fingers digging into your hips, and you want to be good for him, so you drag your hand between your thighs and rub your swollen clit in frantic motions.

"L-Leeevi! I think I'm-"

"Fuck!"

When you feel a hot liquid shooting into you, your legs begin to tremble and you come on his cock, head falling onto the pillow with a heavy sigh. He pulls out and you already miss the feeling of being full, your juices mixed with his own dripping down out of you, down your thigh. You curl up next to your husband, hand holding his arm before you drift to sleep.

A sweet smell fills Levi's nostrils and when he looks at your tired body, there’s flowers in your messy hair. He still can't get used to the way your divine, disorganised powers work, but at least now he knows what's been missing from his life, and the corners of his mouth slightly twist upwards into a genuine smile. The god of the dead, in love with and married to the goddess of spring. Order and chaos blending together in one beautiful, perfectly arranged mess.

It’s fate. It must be fate that brought you together — but it’s love that will keep you together.

tagging @starrynightlys @stolemyheart12

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cipheress-to-k-pop · 4 years

Note

Hello there! Can you write hcs for Tim with a demigodess!reader please? Congrats on your 600 followers btw^^

Tim Drake x Demigoddess!Reader

A/N: Thank you so much! So I’m totally dense about greek myths and stuff and I was gonna make her Thor’s daughter at first but then I forgot about that I did Hades but when I remembered it was already written so oh well

You were the daughter of Hades and Persephone

You had kind of a weird childhood

Don’t get me wrong, it was a great childhood

Being princess of the underworld and the daughter of the only sane people in all of Olympus had its perks

But compared to everyone else, it was weird

Hades was extremely protective of you because you were a mortal

Meaning that you could die

The thought of having to greet your soul when you died filled him with so much grief

So, he kept you sheltered, kept you safe

Never letting you lift a finger

As princess you had everything you ever needed and everything your heart desired

Since birth you had been trained by Athena and Aries under your father’s watchful eyes

When you were 16 and you finally wanted to see the rest of the world, you begged your parents to let you go to the mortal world

It took months of begging and when they said no, you’d get so upset that all the flowers in the underworld would wither

Persephone seeing how much you wanted to see the world

So, she convinces Hades to let you go

And he agrees but just as long as you promise to visit

You go to the human world and you’re so oblivious about human life that it’s concerning

Walking around in a floor length dress wondering why everyone else wasn’t dressed the same way

This is how you meet Diana Prince

She recognizes you immediately when you arrive at the Smithsonian, looking mildly confused

Your eyes light up when you see a familiar face

You stay with her for a couple of days before she decides that you’d be better off at the cave

That’s exactly what happens

Even though you whine a little and say you want to stay with her

She just knows it’s because you’re nervous about being in a new place

You know that if you were in any real danger your parents would inflict rage on the mortal world

Feeling mildly comforted at the idea

Diana doesn’t tell them to add you to the group

She just tells them that you need a place to stay and someone to help you find your way around

The first people you meet are Batman, Nightwing and Robin

Immediately being comforted just by looking at them

Batman reminded you of your dad and Nightwing of your mom

And Diana trusted them so you did too

You end up following Tim and Dick around for the next couple of days like a lost puppy

Dick finds it amusing

Tim is kinda unsettled but thinks you’re stupid for some reason

It isn’t until he actually talks to you, he realizes you’re much more profound than he gave you credit for

You don’t officially join the team

You just live there

Everyone thinks that you have no training whatsoever

And that you’re just a princess

Which you technically are but

Until you’re watching them train one day and then remember the days you would spar with Athena

It looked like so much fun

Immediately you wanted to join in

Some of them rolled their eyes and thought you were wasting their time

The others were happy to let you join in

They wanted to make Bart spar you but you looked around contemplatively before pointing at Tim

“If it is alright with you, I wish for you to be my partner.”

Tim blushing because what you said sounded like you were choosing him as a life partner, rather than sparring partner

Of course, Bart teases him for it as well as the others

When Tim walks up to the middle, Dick subtlety tells him to take it easy on you and he nods

The match is over before he can even make a move

You had the speed and strength of a god, it wasn’t a surprise

Not to you at least

To everyone else, kind of a huge surprise

Standing over him and giggling

“I want a rematch.”

“But of course.”

Spending the rest of the day sparring with him

He doesn’t beat you even once

And the others just watch you throw him around for an afternoon

After a while it stops being funny and Nightwing is almost concerned

It kind of hurts his pride but you still acknowledge him

“You know, for a human, you’re very skilled.”

“Uh, thank you?”

After that you go through the other members quite quickly

Some of them gave you a little trouble, like Conner

But you managed to be undefeated

They all think you should join the team after that and you agree

Spending more time with Tim that way

Always talking to him about your family’s history and stuff

Telling him all about your parents love story when he asked to hear about it

You talk so fondly of it and he’s honestly just kind of shocked that Greek Mythology isn’t mythology

I mean, he knew it was real because of Diana

But he never really understood how real these gods were

He falls for you

He loves the way your eyes light up and you smile at him

He loves the way you’re always eager to learn

He loves that you’re so kind and gentle but can also beat people up without even trying

He asks you out but it didn’t go as well as he was hoping

“Do you want to go out with me?”

“Yes, a walk sounds lovely.”

“(Y/N), I like you.”

“Aw that’s so sweet Tim, I like you too, friend.”

Everyone else starts enjoying the way he crashes and burns all the time

And Tim would stop asking usually

But he knows it in his bones that you like him too

But he has no other way to tell you aside from marching up to you and kissing you

Makes that Plan B tho

Plan A is getting you a bouquet of your favourite flowers and telling you that he likes you

Romantically

Not platonically

You grin widely and tell him you like him too

Kissing you just as the sun set that day

It’s one of your favourite memories

His too

Everyone being extremely happy and supporting of your relationship

You can tell Batman is trying to threaten you

But your father is god of the underworld and you have a three headed dog

So, when you and Tim are caught kissing in some hidden crevice in the cave by him and he tries telling you off, you can’t help you smile adorably

“Don’t worry Batman, I have no intention of dishonouring your son.”

Batman is like ???

And Tim is either like “Please don’t speak like we’re in the 1800s.”

or “Please dishonour me.”

He buys you pomegranates as a joke but then you prank him saying that if he eats them, he has to return to the underworld with you

Dick (Nightwing) approves

You like falling asleep in his arms so more often than not you plead with him to stay at the cave and sleep with you

He knows relationships in Olympus generally move a lot quicker so he ends up having to sit you down and explain everything to you so you know his boundaries

Totally accepting them and never going farther than he wants

You appreciate the small things

Like sitting in his lap and eating breakfast

Or being the small spoon

You become the team’s resident couple

Being part of a team, a family is honestly so much fun

Everyone thinking your invincible and practically indestructible

Until one day you’re hurt on the battlefield

Everyone freaking out and getting you back to the cave so you could be treated

The next morning, Tim goes to check up on you and finds something shocking

He’s not sure what to be more surprised by

Cerberus napping at the foot of your bed

Or you crying

Even though the giant, three-headed dog freaks him out, he still sits beside you and asks what’s wrong

“My father demands that I return home. He cannot stand the thought of me being hurt.”

His heart stops

He likes you so much, even bordering on love

And he doesn’t want you to leave

But who was he to stop the God of the Underworld?

Comforting you when you cried, hugging you tightly

“Shh it’s gonna be okay.”

You return home after that and it breaks Tim’s heart

You don’t officially break up but it’s kind of implied because you can never return back to the mortal world

Him being depressed for the next few months but he hides it well

Even though everyone knows how he’s feeling

Things aren’t any better on your end

Your heart aches with every second your away from him

Until one day it happens

Your soul wants to be with Tim

So, it tries to leave your body

You have a heart attack that night and nearly die and it horrifies Hades

He goes all the way to the mortal world to find Tim

Tim doesn’t quite understand how you could have a heart attack from missing him

But is still worried and agrees to go to the Underworld to see you

When he gets there, you’re in so much pain

But once he brings you into his arms you feel sated

When he kisses you, everything fades into a dull ache

Hades wants Tim to stay in the Underworld after that but you argue and tell him to go back to the land of the living

This wasn’t the place for him

“I’ll give up on you, I promise, but you can’t stay here any longer my love.”

“I don’t want to leave your side.”

“I’m sorry, but you know we can’t be.”

Tim goes the next morning and it breaks your heart but you know that it’s for the best

You spend the next few weeks in such sorrow that all of Persephone’s plants die

Hades and Persephone both see how much you love Tim and they are reminded of themselves when they were younger

Making a joint decision to let you go back to the mortal world

But you have to live a long life

That’s the one condition

You running into the cave and crashing into Tim’s arms

Kissing him there and feeling everything go right in the world

You fulfil your parents wish

And live a long, happy life by Tim’s side

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

DC Taglist:

@emmacata

@p--e--a--c--h--e--s

@sometimeseverythingsucks

@sokkas-honour

@unstable1902

@lostgirlheart

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iliveiloveiwrite · 4 years

Text

Long Lost Love // Part One (D.M.)

Summary: Two piles of twelve letters, hidden away in the bottom of a trunk, browning with age. Twenty-four letters in total, all addressed to him.

A/N: This is my entry into @teheharrypotter‘s two weeks of angst! I just really want to take a moment and say that I am so proud of this fic and how it has come out, like ridiculously proud of it. I would really appreciate some feedback on this - reblogs and comments are so important. There is going to be a second part where all the love letters will be compiled into one long post. However, I think not giving too much away only adds to the suspense and angst. Also, the ending... I love it and I think you’ll all hate me for it.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

Warnings: this is a lot of angst combined with hurt/comfort but there’s a lot of growth in Draco (I think?)

Word count: 5.4k

It had been fifteen years since the end of the second wizarding war; it had been fifteen years of healing and working on himself, of repenting for his family’s crimes during the war. Draco Malfoy had aged in that time; his hair had grown past his shoulders, tied back with a black leather hair tie, and there were lines on his face that had not been there when he was an eighteen year old running away from the castle he classed as his home.

He had lived a lifetime in those fifteen years. He had seen the world before training as a Healer; working his way up the ranks to become head of the emergency department of the only wizarding hospital within Britain. He had trained Healer after Healer; many of them going off to establish clinics in their own community, all of them sending cards at Christmas, regaling him of their successes.

Draco had lived a lifetime. He lost his father first. Lucius had never truly recovered from his time in Azkaban, and though Draco had tried his hardest to form some semblance of a relationship with his father, Lucius had remained cruel until the end. Truthfully, Draco doesn’t want to think about what it was that killed him in the end. Whether it was the spite that had poisoned him for years, or whether it was something else. Draco doesn’t dwell on it; instead, he leaves white roses on his father’s grave every Sunday like any loving son would.

Narcissa hadn’t lasted long after Lucius passed. She had been distraught. Whilst Lucius was not a doting father, he was a doting husband and he adored Narcissa until his very last breath on this earth. To Draco, her tears started that day and didn’t stop until she passed away in her asleep. Her heart, the coroner said. She had died of a broken heart.

A feeling Draco knew only too well.

Despite achieving so much and traveling so far, he had only ever been in love once. There had only ever been one moment in his whole life that had been filled with the kind of love read about in books, sang about in songs, and played out in films. Draco had fallen in love with you when he was sixteen years old and entering what would be the darkest period of his life. To him, you had been the light in the dark. The answer to his constantly asked question: will there ever be a happy ending?

Nothing had ever happened; nothing could happen. You were the epitome of goodness; the very incarnate of its definition, and he… he was the opposite. In those days, his self-hatred ran so deep that he would argue he was the Hades of the story. Doomed forever to the underworld only to fall in love with the Goddess of Spring and hope for retribution that would never come.

However, in this version of their well-told myth, Hades and Persephone never fall into a relationship. In this version of events, feelings were known and reciprocated, but letters that pleaded for a chance either never arrived or were never answered.

So for fifteen years, Draco Malfoy has been working hard on repairing his family’s tattered reputation whilst coping with the depth-defying grief that comes with losing both parents within the span of a year as well as never truly dealing with the heart wrenching grief that accompanies a relationship that was never given the chance to bloom.

--------

It was a bright, clear day in the middle of March when Draco decided to clean out the attic. He had woken with the urge to clean; with the urge to organise his life and start to work through the piles of his parent’s belongings. He hadn’t been able to touch them in the beginning; the most he had been able to do was relocate everything to the attic and then shove the very thought to the back of his mind where it began to fester like an open wound.

Bright and clear was the day when Draco chose to enter the long forgotten attic in the Manor. Bright and clear was the day when he had to hold a handkerchief to his face to stave off the inevitable sneezes from the dust floating in the air.

Looking around the old and dusty attic, Draco takes in the first of the mess. Trunks line the wall; some ancient – locks worn down with time, almost rusted from their exile to the attic; others are much newer such as his parent’s belongings. Their trunks remain almost new; their initials still painted onto the lids in bright gold paint.

The majority of the morning is spent creating two piles; one to be thrown away, one to be donated. Expensive gowns and suits were to be donated. Anything that reminded Draco of his allegiance in the Second Wizarding War was to be thrown.

As he goes through the belongings of not just his parent’s, but also his grandparents, Draco begins to feel conflicted. With each addition to the bin pile, he feels lighter, he feels one less burden. However, he cannot help the guilt that unfurls in his stomach as he thinks of his mother’s kind face and her forever painted red lip.

By the time Draco makes it to his mother’s final trunk, he feels as if he has been in battle once more. Weariness hangs heavy over in shoulders, settling in his bones. His body slumped, not just from the tiredness from lifting heavy trunks and boxes, but from the emotional weight of memories freshly unleashed upon him.

Draco’s movements are slower as he opens the lid to this final trunk. He thinks back to the day he filled it; piling his mother’s correspondence and personal effects in here – separate from the clothes he knew he would one day get rid of. He slides his hands over the emerald green lid – a Slytherin till the day she died, Draco thinks as he smiles to himself.

At some point, he lets a few tears fall. It’s the sight of Narcissa’s handwriting, he realises. He hadn’t seen it in so long – not having received a birthday card or a Christmas present this year due to her death. Seeing her strong cursive brought tears to his eyes; he remembers being a child, sitting by her desk, watching her write away and wondering who on earth she could be talking to. If Draco focuses hard enough, he swears he can still smell the fresh ink drying on the parchment and the melted wax being pressed with Narcissa’s signet ring.

At the bottom of the trunk, Draco notices a latch. Frowning, he flips it open to reveal a false bottom hidden away. Uneasiness spreads through him, turning his stomach to lead as he reaches inside to feel two distinct piles.

The uneasiness turns to heavy anguish when Draco realises just what he is holding in his hands.

------

Two piles of twelve letters, hidden away in the bottom of a trunk, browning with age.

Twenty-four letters in total, all addressed to him.

They now sit on his kitchen counter; the ageing paper a stark contrast to the obsidian black of his counter top. Draco leans back in his chair, huffing out a long sigh, running a hand down his face as he does so. It had been fifteen years, but he would recognise your handwriting anywhere.

It had been fifteen years and he hadn’t had any contact with you. He wondered for so long why his letters had gone unanswered to the point where he stopped writing altogether, feeling the keen sting of rejection.

Fifteen years and he now had his answer.

Hidden away in a trunk; squirreled away in the hopes that he would never find them. The hope that he would forget about you and move on. He never had; he just kept his feelings silent, caging them up in his heart along with everything else he kept from his parents.

Anger surges through him. The first emotion he has felt since he opened that damned trunk.

He lets out a choked scream; the intensity of his anger surprising him as he slams a fist onto the counter top, wincing slightly from the pain now radiating up his right arm.

How dare they, he roars. How dare they keep this from him? How dare they keep you from him? Did you not fit their ideal – a pureblood from a well off family? Did you not meet their needs visually? Your hair perfect, your face just the same.

There was no good reason he could think of. Draco pads over to the bar, tucked away in the corner of the kitchen. There, he pours himself a knuckle’s length of the amber liquid, knocking it back with a hiss. The whiskey burns as it goes down; burns just like his emotions, like his anger.

Draco’s lip curls in distaste as he hears his father’s voice: a distraction, Draco, that’s all.

Lucius Malfoy had never uttered such words in Draco’s presence, but Draco was well aware of his father’s distaste of you.

Reading over his home address once again, Draco is hit with a sense of helplessness. He doesn’t know where to go from or what to do. He reads over your home address, neatly written in the top left hand corner of the envelope.

Sighing, he runs a hand down his face, still uncertain what his next move is going to be. He runs through the options in his head once, and out loud after.

To no-one in particular, he argues:

“I could reply. I could write a letter back, apologising for the absence of replies with a brief sentence or two about meeting up after so much time has passed.”

Draco waves that option away; his tongue too tied up to even think about coherently writing a letter out now. He moves onto option two:

“I could show up. I could apparate to the address right now, knock on the door and ask to speak to them.”

He shakes his head; immediately ridding himself of the idea. For starters, what if you had moved, and he finds himself knocking on the door of an unknown family? However, what if you still live there, and you answer the door? What is Draco to say to you then after such a long time apart?

He imagines the situation; forces himself into shoes that he could possibly be wearing in the near future. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. Not a word, not a whisper, not an apology.

So he ignores option two.

Draco knows its cowardice that drives him to the third option, but to go fifteen years without a reply to a letter declaring love… it is too long of a time to expect any form of forgiveness, and he supposes that is what he is most afraid of. Draco’s terrified of not being worthy enough for your forgiveness.

So he goes with option three:

Do nothing.

------

Draco does the only thing that makes sense.

He takes the letters to work.

Draco slides the letters into his satchel, latching the buckle afterwards and taking a deep breath. Already, Draco feels the twenty four envelopes burning a hole through the soft, worn leather of his bag.

Their presence continues to haunt him: placing his bag in his locker and grabbing his lab coat, walking towards the admit desk where Martha – the head nurse – smiles at him before handing him a cup of coffee.

The emergency room is swamped. It is full to capacity with even more waiting in triage. They work as hard and as fast as they can, but it takes time to cure burns from potions and injuries from spells gone wrong.

It gets to the point where Draco needs to take a step back. He has to take a step back and re-evaluate. His personal life is shot; the love he had found at sixteen a dead end until this last weekend. His professional life is all that he has going for him, but on days like this, when he isn’t feeling entirely himself for the shock from the weekend, Draco does find himself being short with patients.

He escapes to the break room; the familiar bitter scent of coffee already relaxing the tense muscles in his shoulders. He settles into a chair at the rickety table, head in his hands as he takes a deep breath.

Draco represses the urge to cry. He pushes it down; deep, deep down inside him where he can deal with it another day. At this moment, all he wants is a hug from his mother and the age old promise that everything is going to be okay. It’s her fault’ it is Narcissa’s fault that he is like this.

That he is a husk of a man.

He feels like a therapist’s wet dream. Blaming his mother, his parents as the source of his problems, but he cannot help imagining how different his life would be if those letters had been delivered to his hands.

He would be with you. He would have given it all up for you.

His lineage; his inheritance; his name; the pureblood mania that infected his parents.

He would give it all up for you.

Fifteen years later and he would still give up every aspect of his life, every part of him that makes him him.

Draco would drop it all in a heartbeat for you.

“What’s gotten into you?” A feminine voice questions. Draco turns in his seat to see his closest friend and confidant, Alexandria Delphi, leaning against the door with a smile on her face.

He cannot help the smile that grows on his face at her presence. He shrugs, hoping he appears nonchalant, “What do you mean?”

Alexandria pushes herself off the door, coming to sit next to Draco at the old rickety table that has been at home in the break room since before time itself. She raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow at his obvious aversion. She gestures to his entire being, “I mean this. You’ve been off all day – not as attentive to patients, not your usual flirtatious self with the nurses which I know they are missing very much. What’s gotten into you, Draco?”

Draco sighs, knowing very well he could never hide anything from her. Alexandria and Draco had known each other since their first year of training; an unlikely friendship forming between them, but a friendship nonetheless. Thirteen years later, they had been working in the emergency department of St Mungo’s the longest – second only to Martha, the Head Nurse.

“I was cleaning out the attic over the weekend. Getting rid of some of my parent’s things.”

Alexandria frowns, reaching for Draco’s hand over the table. “You should have called me. I would have come and helped you; you shouldn’t have had to that alone.”

“I know,” Draco starts, running a hand down his face, “I know you would have but I think I needed to do it alone.”

Alexandria nods, releasing his hand at last and bringing it to the coffee mug sitting in front of her. Draco smiles at her before standing, opening his locker and grabbing the letters that call to him from his bag.

Sitting back down, he slides the two piles of letters in Alexandria’s direction, all the while saying, “I found these in my mother’s trunk. It had a false bottom, and they were sitting there.”

Her deep brown eyes widen, “How scandalous! They’re addressed to you?”

Draco nods, “When I was at Hogwarts, there was a girl.”

“Isn’t there always?” Alexandria quips, rolling her eyes at the dramatics of her colleague.

“Anyway,” Draco comments pointedly, “I was in love, or at least, I was as much in love as you can be when you’re sixteen years old. I still am, I think.

“Anyway, my parents didn’t approve of her; they never would so when war started brewing and I went home, I never imagined I would get letters. I never got letters. Turns out, she had been sending me letters all along and my parents had kept them hidden until now.”

“Bastards,” Alexandria spits; furious at people long dead.

“What do you think I should do?” Draco asks earnestly, his eyes never leaving the pile of letters.

“Have you read them?” Alexandria asks; her eyes fixed on the two sets of letters placed between them on the rickety table.

He shakes his head, refusing to meet Alexandria’s eyes, “I think I’m too scared.”

Alexandria smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. She sighs, “You aren’t going to know what to do until you read them. Reading the letters should give you the answer you are looking for.”

“When did you get so wise?”

“When you made me Attending,” She quips, yet there is still no heart behind it – none of her usual heat that tends to come out when Draco baits her slightly. She shakes her head, standing from her seat with her coffee in her hand, “I want to see you back out there soon. I don’t care whether you’re the head of the department.”

He raise an eyebrow at her in challenge; she simply smirks. He shakes his head at her antics, already rising from his seat, “I’m on my way.”

“Good, I have plenty of patients for you to see.”

Draco doesn’t reply, he watches her leave with a fond smile on his face.

Alexandria leaves the break room. She leaves as it is the only way that Draco will not see the sorrow and the longing reflected in her eyes. Alexandria doesn’t let him see the jealousy over the letters; the very emotion gnawing away at the ever growing pit in her stomach, only making it deeper as she replays the story of Draco’s first and only love.

She remembers when she used to look forward to coming into work; to help those in need and be a source of comfort for those she couldn’t help. Now, she struggles to make it through the door with the knowledge that she has been in love with the same man for years and nothing had happened.

That’s the thing about loving someone who doesn’t love you back – it turns you into a ghost of your former self.

------

Draco finds himself reaching for the first letter in the pile on a Friday night in the middle of April. If he had to be honest with himself, it had taken him a whole month to work up the nerve to read them. Draco had come home after the conversation with Alexandria and dropped the letters on the side table where they have taunted him ever since.

He knows he isn’t in the right frame of mind to be reading them; a bad shift with too many deaths combined with the two half full tumblers of whiskey consumed creates the equation of self-destruction. However, Draco reminds himself, he’s had fifteen years of internal self-destruction – what’s one more night when you tear yourself down so regularly despite the accolades attached to your name?

Draco hesitates, holding the first of the twenty four letters in his hand. He hesitates; unsure as to whether he is ready to read the handwriting of someone whose notes through class not only made him happy, but hopeful.

Releasing a shuddering breath, he tears open the seal and begins to read.

------

The letters are not long. They aren’t pages and pages of eloquent syntax over your feelings for the blonde haired, cocky teenager he once was. The closer he gets to the end of the pile, the less is written as if you had grown tired of such an act and not getting a reply.

Draco keeps his favourite close to him. It’s tucked away in his inner coat pocket, on the left hand side close to his heart.

The letter has been with him a month now. A month of one letter being read and reread too many times a day; to the point where Draco is reciting it in his sleep. It’s creased beyond recognition, but he still takes the risk every day to take it out and read it.

He misses you. He misses you. He misses you.

Now, Draco unfolds the paper. He unfolds the paper and reads the opening line: do you remember that night in the greenhouse? Writes your neat handwriting; the letters perfectly formed on the now browning parchment.

How could he forget? Draco closes his eyes, letting himself fall into the memory perfumed with compost and night blooming evening primrose.

*****

“Name two purposes of Valerian Root.”

“To help someone sleep as well as to ease anxiety.”

“Very good,” You laugh, moving quietly between the rows and rows of plants. You turn to him suddenly, “What is one danger of Black Henbane?”

Draco pauses, eyes already searching for papery flower with spidery black veins. He finds it nestled towards the back of the greenhouse, hidden away from sight and away from the wandering hands of children. Draco follows you closely; remaining near you as he says, “As a member of the nightshade family, the plant can be toxic if used in large quantities.”

The sight of your smile takes his breath away. You rush to him; toothy grin and loud laughter as you nod your head. “Madame Pomfrey was right,” You splutter, “You’re going to make an incredible Healer, Draco Malfoy.”

He doesn’t need to see the blush to know it’s there; he can feel the heat creeping its way up his neck to his cheeks. “I don’t think I’ll get there if I don’t have you.”

A satisfied smile replaces the happy grin that was on your face only moments ago. It was as if you were waiting for those words to fall from his lips; the reassurance within those words spreading over your worry like a balm over a wound.

How many more nights would they get like this? How many more nights would they have together?

Somewhat foolishly, Draco hopes he has forever. He hopes he has an eternity and a day with you, but he can feel the changes in the air, and he knows it isn’t good. Draco can see the tension at home; more and more people arriving, each just as secretive as the last, and Draco suddenly knows he only has a short amount of time before he’s inducted into the same fanatic group as his parents.

He’s on limited days with you so he’ll take the nights.

He’ll take all the nights.

-------

The shoebox had remained untouched under his bed for years now. Draco had shoved it there in a fit of anger and despair and he hadn’t looked since.

Reaching for it now, Draco represses the growing anger directed at his parents. He ignores the growing resentment surrounding the fact that they hid your letters for years and never thought to whisper a word of it – not even on their death beds.

The shoebox has aged; not unlike himself, he thinks as he wipes the dust from the top. The thick layer drawing a sneeze from him before he can open the box.

It doesn’t matter how many years it has laid unwanted under his bed; it doesn’t matter how long it has remained there, untouched and not thought of – Draco, to this day, can still recount for every little thing in there.

Notes that have now turned brown with age; old photos where youthful faces glance up at him; a chocolate bar wrapper from Honeyduke’s.

They each line the bottom of the shoebox. Draco’s memories of you out there for him to finally confront, to see. He sinks down onto his childhood bed; almost blinded by the force of the wave of nostalgia washing over him, threatening to drown him with the strength of his memories.

The memories hadn’t plagued him for some time though you played on his mind constantly – even more so since the letters.

They’re silly memories, but memories, nonetheless. Ones that he adores; ones that he cherishes.

It was the letters that triggered this. The letters that have brought the ghosts back from where they had been hidden, haunting him quietly until now.

Draco runs a hand through the trinkets in the box. He smiles at them, thinking of Hogsmeade and how he had surprised you with a bar of your favourite chocolate. The grin on your face worth all the jibes from Crabbe and Goyle when he got back to the Slytherin common room that evening.

Draco falls back onto his childhood bed with a huff.

He has a decision to make, and he doesn’t know where to begin. He has a decision to make, and he doesn’t have the guidance he so desperately needs.

Draco wants to see you; he needs to see you, but what if you don’t want to see him?

----

“I heard you handed in your notice,” Draco states as a way of breaking the ice.

Her notice of leave had landed in his hands not even three hours ago. He had spent the time since in a panic; rushing about the hospital to find Alexandria and to question her, to find out why she would leave after so long.

Why she would leave him.

Alexandria nods, “I have. I leave in two weeks.”

“Why?” Draco all but demands, “You love this place.”

“You’re right,” Alexandria sighs, “I do.”

“Then why are you leaving?”

“Because I can’t do this anymore, Draco. I can’t sit here and listen to you talk about those letters and sigh dreamily, or date someone else. I can’t do it,” Her voice breaks, “So I won’t. I want a fresh start, so I’m going to get one.”

“I didn’t know.”

“Of course you didn’t.”

“If I had known…”

“What? You’d have loved me?” Alexandria laughs mirthlessly, “Love me, Draco! Love me.”

“I can’t,” He whispers; the words the death knell to any scrap of friendship remaining.

Tears fall down her face, “And that’s why I have to go.”

She presses a kiss to his cheek; lingering for longer than what was probably good for her. When she pulls away, she can see the wetness of her tears on Draco’s cheek. “I hope you find her, Draco. You deserve a love story.”

-----

The cottage is small, but it is perfect. Ivy covered walls with a neat front garden; every inch showing the love and attention being paid to it. From the red roses that makes Draco think of his beloved mother to the intense scent of lavender that reminds Draco of the perfume you wore through Hogwarts. Looking up at the cottage, Draco realises that he had never seen a house look so much like a home.

He pauses at the gate; eyes focused on the bricks of the cottage and nowhere else. He doesn’t let the hope grow; he doesn’t let himself dream of what could happen. He’s thankful he has made it this far.

That he’s made it back to you.

The black gate creaks when Draco pushes it open. He winces at the noise, praying it doesn’t give him away and that you answer the door unexpectedly.

He needs this.

He needs the time.

It’s been fifteen years and since he found your letters months ago, he thought he would be ready by the time he found you.

Now Draco is thinking, perhaps he isn’t ready.

Will he ever be ready? He asks himself. Will he ever be ready to confront the very person he has been in love with since he was sixteen years old?

Draco doesn’t know; he doesn’t think he’ll ever know until he steps through the gate.

Draco’s hands shake as he rushes down the well-worn footpath to your dark brown front door. His hands continue to shake as he raises a single fist to knock on the door, three times.

He’s about to turn away; he’s about to walk away and never enter your life again. He will go away and never think of you again; of what could have been.

But then the lock clicks, and the handle moves.

“Hello?” A sweet voice calls out; your voice calls out.

“(Y/N)…” He breathes, and suddenly his nerves are gone and so is his worry. Suddenly, Draco is back at Hogwarts, the feel of your hand in his as he presses you into walls and steals kisses behind statues. He’s back to being sixteen years old and feeling the unrelenting agony of teenage love for the first time along with the merciless fear to do with the rising tensions.

“Draco,” You whisper, bringing a hand up to your mouth. Shock reflects in your eyes; your eyes that show no signs of aging other than the lines that are now forming in the corners.

Draco can’t help himself; he runs his eyes over your body, taking in the changes that becoming an adult has brought. It means nothing; he would love you regardless, but he cannot seem to help himself from drinking it all in.

From the realisation that he in fact stood in front of you.

You are there, and he is here with you.

“How have you been?” He asks; more out of politeness than anything else.

You shift awkwardly, “I’ve been good, Draco. How have you been?”

Draco nods, “I’ve been good too. I know you’re probably wondering why I’m here.”

You laugh, tucking yourself slightly behind the door, “That did cross my mind.”

He smiles; a large grin that he hasn’t felt on his face in a long, long time. Less than five minutes with you, and you’re already bringing out a side of him that Draco had long thought was extinct. He reaches into his coat, grabbing some of the letters that he keeps there. He holds them out to you, “I’ve only just found them.”

Audibly gasping, you instinctively reach for the letters. Your fingers brush Draco’s and he swears his heart skips a beat at the small touch. “I sent these years ago.”

Draco closes his eyes, “I know, and I cannot apologise enough to you for how long it has taken. I thought a reply in person would be better.”

Tears line your eyes as your fingers brush the worn paper; the crease marks more than evident from where Draco has folded and refolded the letter to read. “I always wondered what had happened…” You trail off, lifting your gaze from the letters to meet his eyes.

“My parents,” He whispers; voice pained. He takes a moment to collect himself, but you put a hand up to stop from saying anything else.

“I understand. You don’t need to explain more, Draco.”

“Thank you,” He replies, smiling softly. Then he launches into his tale, “I was cleaning out their belongings; cleaning in general really when I found a false bottom in my mother’s trunk. When I took it out, I found your letters… and I read them and reread them. I practically memorised them. I don’t think there are enough words in the English language to convey just how sorry I am.”

“Draco…”

“No, let me say this… please,” He whispers, adding on the last word for politeness. You fall silent, your eyes begging him not to say out loud what you know he is going to confess.

“Until the last star fades and we succumb to darkness, I shall love you. I have always loved you; from being a scared teenager to being a just as scared adult. My feelings haven’t changed. I’ve thought of nothing but you for fifteen years,” He pauses, drawing in a shuddering breath, “I love you.”

Silence falls over you both. Draco’s heart pounds in his chest as he watches the emotions flicker over your face in a pace he didn’t think was humanly possible. Acceptance, happiness, relief and then finally, sadness.

He furrows his brows; surely this would be a happy event no? Draco has tracked you down after a fifteen year absence. He has found his one true love at last, and now he stands before you wondering the cause of such sadness on your face and in your eyes.

“Draco…” You trail off, holding up your left hand, “I’m married.”

******

General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @theweasleysredhair @harrypotter289 @kalimagik @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @figlia--della--luna @idont-knowrn @lunalovegxxd @big-galaxy-chaos @black-lake-confessions @annasofiaearlobe @imboredandneedalife @levylovegood @mytreec @haphazardhufflepuff @teheharrypotter @chaoticgirl04 @accio-rogers @starlightweasley @dreaming-about-fanfictions @lestersglitterglue @msmimimerton @obx-beach @izzytheninja @slytherinprincess03 @bbeauttyybbx @acciotwinz @kashishwrites @slytherinsunrise @kylosleftbuttcheek @remmyswritings @they-write-once-in-a-blue-moon @ria-rests-here @superbturtlemakerathlete @inglourious-imagines @ithilwen-lionheart @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown @ilovejjmaybank @phuvioqhile @moatsnow @storyisnotover

Draco Malfoy taglist: @the--queen-of-hell @obxmxybxnk @obx-beach @sycathorn-slush @dracomalfoyswifey @kashishwrites @justmesadgirl @detroitobsessed @reaganwonders @aspiringsloth20 @just-a-belgian-girl @lahoete @minty-malfoy @fallinallinmendes @ravenclawbitch426 @ochrythum @beiahadid @gryffindors-weasley @dracosathenaeum

#Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco x reader #draco malfoy imagines

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norsecoyote · 3 years

Text

There's this one stupid internet argument I keep getting into even though I know I shouldn't.

I follow/participate in a forum thread about webcomics, which is a mixture of genuine appreciation for good ones and communal hate-reading of the really bad ones. One such Bad One is the inexplicably but wildly popular Lore Olympus.

Lore Olympus is a terrible fucking comic for so many reasons, all of which originate in the creator's stunning lack of talent for anything beyond creating a vaguely compelling aesthetic. Artistically, the characters are all literally indistinguishable from one another except that each one is colored different (by which I mean, their entire figure is colored, skin, hair, clothes, everything). All the women have identical figures and faces (although some have pointy ears). There are a whopping two types of men's bodies, "buff" and "willowy," but they all have the same noses. Oh, and all of these body shapes change wildly from panel to panel, with zero sense of proportion or scale between characters.

The writing is where the real deep problems start, though. The comic bills itself as a retelling of the myth of Hades and Persephone except this time Persephone has Agency™, which tbf is a great concept. The problem is that the author repeatedly goes miles out of her goddamn way to rob her of any possible agency in her situation. She is literally constantly being manipulated by the other gods, pushed into uncomfortable situations, entire jobs, relationships, etc. with zero chance to choose for herself. Even beyond the core plot details, though, her internal characterization is childish verging on infantilizing; we are constantly reminded how out-of-her-depth and naive she is about the big bad adult world of Mount Olympus.

Which is a segue into the really awful shit that this comic pulls, as it happens. See, in this weird-ass inconsistent interpretation of the mythos (don't even attempt to make sense of the worldbuilding, seriously), Hades and all of the other Olympians are ~2,000 years old. Persephone, meanwhile, is 18. Literally 18. Also, Hera assigns her (without any of Persephone's input) to work as Hades's intern (Hades here being the CEO of "Underworld Corp").

So we're already getting into rocky waters, since the comic has somehow conspired to make the power dynamics of this relationship even more unbalanced and one-sided than the original mythos, where Persephone was physically abducted and carried off. But the real damning thing is that, having established this titillatingly taboo relationship, the author makes a special point of establishing that what attracts Hades to Persephone is: her body. I wish I were joking, but there's literally zero time spent on what he likes about her as a person, versus whole episodes on his feelings of lust. Which is still better than Captain Agency, for whom we have actually ZERO sense of what she sees in the gangly blue asshole (Hades is blue, which is the only way to tell him apart from his brothers, who are yellow and green).

So the comic sucks, and that's not even getting into the ways that every single character who suggests that maybe it's not appropriate for Hades to romantically pursue his 1,982-years-younger employee is immediately thereafter shown to be hypocritical and/or sabotaging the relationship for their own selfish ends, or the way that Persephone begins to come to terms with having been raped (in an early scene) not through any actions or reflection of her own but via Eros using his magic fuck-detecting powers(?) to realize and exclaim out loud, with other people present, that she's not a virgin anymore(??!!!!) and pressuring her into telling him the whole story. The comic sucks in both concept and execution and I kind of hate that it's apparently popular enough to get optioned for an animated series.

None of that is the stupid argument I keep getting into, though.

The stupid argument is that many posters in the thread, when asked (say, by a newcomer) why Lore Olympus is so bad, will say something like "because it's about how a really toxic type of relationship" (i.e. one with an enormous age- and power-gap) "is Good, Actually."

And mostly I can just let this slide, but every once in a while I am compelled to say, "actually, it's not bad because it wants to tell a romance about a powerful older man falling for a younger woman, it's bad because it does a really bad job of telling that story, in a way that actively glorifies the imbalance and either glosses over or actively mocks all reasonable issues with it."

Because, IMO, you shouldn't say that art is bad because of its subject matter. Just because I think relationships in real life like the one depicted in Lore Olympus are highly likely to be toxic and dangerous to the weaker/younger half doesn't, itself, mean that LO is bad for trying to make a counterargument.

But the other posters say: yes, this kind of relationship is so toxic that there's no possible way to write positively about one without being Bad.

And I suggest, just because you disagree with art or find its themes repugnant does not, in itself, make that art Bad. Maybe there are some topics that are just so taboo they should never be touched, but I dunno, the universe of human relationships is vast and varied enough that I don't think this crosses the line. I can imagine there being a romance about a couple like this that has artistic merit.

And they say: I didn't realize "45 year olds shouldn't get romantically involved with a 19 year old under any circumstances" was a hot take.

And that's when I start to get Mad On The Internet and go crying into my tumblr.

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adhdzagreus · 3 years

Note

21. under fluff for hades and persephone (hades 2020 version)

Hasephone + 21. “You’re not very intimidating.”

I was all alone, we were young, you were like wine Heady as the fog rolling in o'er the hillside Lovely as the song in the air as the wind blows Opiate as the cold of the frost on the windows

Exeunt // The Oh Hellos

Hades would never forgive Zeus for putting him in this position. A goddess he barely knew was in his House--his perfectly efficient, well-run House. What was the protocol for this situation? She didn’t have a role. She was… She was--what has Zeus said?

A potential candidate for Queen. Hades grit his teeth. He was absolutely never going to forgive Zeus for this. How had the blasted fool even known about his feelings for Persephone? Feelings was hardly even the word for it! They’d barely spoken when they had first met on Olympus. It was simply that she was the embodiment of warmth and radiance--two things that were sorely lacking in the dark and frigid Underworld.

Or they had been before Zeus had unceremoniously abducted Persephone and left her in Hades’ home. Now she was single handedly brightening up the Great Hall. Even the River Styx looked less gloomy in her presence.

“What an interesting place,” she said. “Why do you have a river running through your front hall?”

“That river is the Styx which connects the whole of my domain. The boatman Charon transports shades along its waters. Those seeking an audience arrive in the Great Hall by means of his boat,” he explained grimly. He did not care to explain its other function. That should he venture too far from the Underworld for too long, it served as an extremely quick way to return him to his domain--whether he wanted to or not.

“Ah, that would explain the line,” she said. “It’s a bit disorganized. You’re in need of a doorman.”

Hades let out an irritated sigh. “The goddess Nyx is… working on it. She has a candidate, but he needs more training.” Frankly, he didn’t think any amount of training was going to fix Hypnos’ personality, but if he learned to stay awake for more than an hour at a time, he would do fine as a doorman.

“Nyx?” Persephone asked. “I’m afraid I’m not familiar with that name.”

“I suppose she isn’t spoken of on Olympus. The Olympians prefer not to think of what goes on in my domain. But if not for Nyx’s influence, the Underworld would cease to function and shades would overrun the surface. If you are to stay with us, I had better introduce you,” Lord Hades decided.

“I would be delighted, I’m sure,” she said, and Hades led her through the House to where Nyx liked to reside, a seemingly innocuous corner of the House outside of a mostly empty storeroom, which was in truth the center of the House.

She was where Hades expected her to be, standing serenely across from the entrance to the lounge, with a young god in front of her, talking quietly. From his sleek silver hair and purple butterflies, Hades was able to dredge the name Thanatos from his memory. A promising young man. He wouldn’t need nearly as much training as his brother.

“Child, we have company,” the goddess said, and Thanatos turned and caught Hades’ eye.

“Lord Hades,” he said with a brief bow.

“Dismissed,” the underworld king said with a wave of his hand. “I’m here to speak with your mother.”

The young god nodded respectfully and disappeared. Persephone cast an inquiring glance at Hades.

Nyx picked up on it. “My son, Thanatos,” she said placidly. “What can I do for you, Hades? And who is our guest? I thought I sensed an outsider in the domain.”

“This is the goddess Persephone. She will be staying with us until… such a time as I see fit. As she is my personal guest, I expect you will treat her with respect.”

Nyx was not especially intimidated by this. “Persephone,” she said. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Nyx. I must inform you that our realm does not always take kindly to outsiders. It is simply the nature of things. Nonetheless, I invite you to make yourself at home.”

“Outsiders?” Persephone asked.

“Surface-dwellers. Those not born of the Underworld,” Nyx clarified.

“What about Hades here?” she asked.

“He is a rare exception,” Nyx amended.

“Enough of that,” Hades growled. “It matters not. The Underworld will adjust if necessary. See to it that the goddess has a place to stay. I have work to attend to.”

“Very well,” said the goddess mildly. “Lady Persephone may accompany me.”

“If I may,” Persephone interrupted, “mightn’t I accompany Lord Hades? I’m quite interested to see the workings of this place.”

“I doubt it will be very interesting,” he began.

“I think differently,” she said.

Grim Lord Hades paused, unused to being disagreed with, especially by one so very pretty, and cleared his throat. “I suppose that would be acceptable.”

“Wonderful,” she said brightly, and that was when Hades realized that Persephone was a dangerous creature indeed, so clever was she at getting her way.

She accompanied him back to his throne, and he cleared his throat again, feeling uncharacteristically flustered, as he took a seat. This feeling did not decrease when Persephone perched on his desk, facing him. He supposed he should’ve offered to find her a seat.

“You know, you’re not what I thought you would be like,” she said conversationally.

“No doubt my brother spoke highly of me on the journey here,” he said sarcastically.

“Oh, yes,” she said. “He thought it very important I understood all of your flaws before I arrived here so I wouldn’t be disappointed.”

Hades was truly going to strange his brother.

“But he didn’t paint a very accurate portrait of you. You’re not very intimidating, for one thing. He had warned me that you would be. Actually, I think his words were ‘about as welcoming as a Hydra’.” She smiled, seemingly quite amused.

“And you don’t agree?” Hades said, bristling.

“Oh, no,” she said. “Would a Hydra be so keen to offer me a place to stay?”

“I suppose not,” he admitted. “And I suppose it is not the worst thing that you disagree. Though you must keep such ideas a secret. Only you are allowed to think such things. If the Shades were to get those notions into their head, it would be chaos.”

She smiled. “What makes me so special?”

Was she--was she teasing him? He looked away, uncertain how to respond. It must be clear to her that his reasons for allowing her to stay were not entirely innocent. But what could she possibly want him to say?

She laughed and placed a hand over her mouth. It was charming. “Oh, you’re coy,” she said. “I didn’t expect that either, but I don’t mind it at all.”

“I have work to do,” he muttered, not meeting her gaze. “But you are welcome to stay.”

“I think I will,” she said. “Show me how you run things around here.”

And he did. After all, it was something she was going to need to know if she was going to be his Queen.

#hades #hades game #hades x persephone #prompt fill #hades 2020

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mushroomxfrog · 3 years

Text

Why I'm disgusted by the Perry Jhonson movie-

Okay, so we all obviously agree. Without further ado, let's get into this:

Let's start with the characters. Okay, Percy's design . For some reason, the actor looks so... un-Percy! He just doesn't give me the 'Percy' vibe. Next, our girl Annabeth! i was so annoyed with her design. In the books, it's clearly given that Annabeth is BLONDE! Like seriously, come on! And Annabeth was just 'the badass love interest'... We didn't get to know anything about her, like she's afraid of spiders, and that her conflicts with her family, so we didn't have any sympathy for her. And Grover. I went mad on the spot and just didn't want to write this, because it actually broke my heart... Grover is supposed to be the cowardly, thin, and can't really defend himself from school bullies. But as the series goes on, he's a loyal friend, and a caring person..Ooops, I mean Saytr. But in the movies, he's just comical relief, and he's portrayed as a ladies' man. And they made him a butt-kicking badass too. In the books, he's far from that. He hardly ever says something funny { That's normally Percy's job } , And he only likes the hunters cuz they're relater to nature. And as i mentioned before, he's NOT a badass. I think, if given the right person to portray, Grover's actor in the movie would have excelled at Grover's personality. It's just fucking stupid. And Luke, he was a monstrosity. Luke seemed too evil, even at the start, he's supposed to be using trickery. Instead, you can already know just by watching the first bit that he's the villain. In the book, Percy and Annabeth hold hope that Luke is under the influence of Kronos or something. But in the movie, Annabeth and Percy immediately just start attacking Luke. Annabeth always holds out hope that Luke can be reformed, and Percy , he still tried to reform Luke in the sea of monsters { Book } but he gave up in the titan's curse. Annabeth still had hope, cos she still had a soft spot for him.

Anyways, let's get on with the plot.

Okay, first of all, where's Nancy Bobofit? Nancy is a red-head Kleptomaniac girl in the start of the books at Yancy academy. She always annoyed Percy and Grover. And not to mention that Yancy is a boarding school. And i just seemed like they were in a hurry at the start. When Percy's mother died, we didn't feel sorry for him because we didn't see how close they were. That's why the Montauk beach scene was included in the books.

Also, how did Percy defeat Annabeth in Capture the flag, when Annabeth has been training for years and Percy was only there for a day or so?

Next, The war and the promise on the River Styx was not a thing in the movie , so Zeus and the other gods knew from the first. And Ares was a second antagonist in the books, and gave Percy a bag with a indirect link , so The lightning bolt would appear once they got to the underworld, and Luke being on the side of Kronos was revealed later . In the movie, the bolt was concealed in a shield that Luke gave Percy .The plot was just over all basic and boring, and they only included the main things.

And Hades was actually a Villain in this, which was just straight up stupid. Seriously, the first movie didn't even include Kronos. My little sister watched the movies with me, and she didn't read the books, so she didn't understand at all. And Percy only consulted the oracle in the second movie.

And they made the characters 16, so that the prophesy would happen when they were 20. This annoyed me.

And the next thing that I'm going to address is the absolutely ridiculous thing that THE GODS COULD DIRECTLY HELP THEIR CHILDREN! Like come on. I liked that the gods couldn't do that, so we'd get only a vague message from them. It seemed more... Godly?

And The gods look horrible. They don't even look like Our leader described them. Where's Zeus's pinstriped Suit? All of the gods are in armor, and they don't look like themselves at all. Their personalities are different.

Hades: Any hope that it would be a faithful adaptation died when Hades revealed himself. I mean give the god a break. He's been portrayed as demonic and hellish in just about every script put to film. He's actually a caring father { iSh } to Nico when he appeared in the 'blood of olumpus'. And then somehow They switch to Kronos as the villan. It's lazy as hell.

Pesephone... this part of the film is set in the Summer time, this undermines a huge part of Persephone's mythology, which dictates that she stays with her mother in the Spring and Summer; only spending the harsher months with Hades, and she isn't supposed to be so, Yk, Badass. And her having a crush on Grover is just.. Well, stupid.

and CHB IS NOT ON A HILL! It's just fucking stupid .And the sets of the best school ever { Hogwarts is in second place }are horrible, WHERE ARE THE STRAWBERRIES? The setting of CHB is described in the books amazingly, but here, it's just weird. And Thalia's tree was not mentioned.

And a lot of things were not here, but were mentioned in the second movie. And , there are many more reasons the first movie was horrible. But then the director , had the god damn nerve to make a second movie. Rick Riordan has made it clear he is not proud of how the movies turned out, and as such the fandom took his word and through their own experiences of reading the books and watching the movies, they can tell that it was bad. Rick Riordan even offered to write them a new script, but the idiot of a director refused.

The acting was a bit dull, it seemed like they weren't exited. Let's compare this to Harry Potter. The actors had a great time on set, and their acting was amazing.

People have said, 'Wow, the Percy Jackson fandom think they're so superior just because they read the books and they get all angry because the movie isn't EXACTLY IDENTICAL as them' But it's not that. While watching it, I felt disgusted, disgraced, and almost betrayed. It felt like they took my fragile, innocent, childhood and treated it like it was some beat-up barbie doll! It did no justice and everything was just WRONG!

the movies are good, if you haven't read the books. If you have, just avoid the movies. If you haven't read the books and are not planning on reading them, go for it. It's not bad. But note that its nothing like the books. So when PJO fans are talking abt PJO, don't butt in. You know nothing. And they will rip you to shreds like a Kindly One

Thank you .

#percy jackson #percy jackson movies #percy jackson series

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shanastoryteller · 5 years

Note

Hi Shana! I'm a big fan of your work, especially your Gods and Monsters series! Speaking of, can you do a bit on Nike please? Only if you want to of course! Keep doing what you're doing and have an awesome day!

Styx knows Ares needs help.

Hades knows this. Charon knows this. Persephone knows this.Icarus knows this. Athena, Hephaestus, Aphrodite, Hera, Artemis and Apollo knowthis. Possibly everyone who’s not Zeus knows this.

But there’s only so much any of them can do.

Hades and the underworld is always a place that he can cometo, a place for him to rest. Ares will go to his brother’s volcanoes and soakhis aching muscles in the magma, Artemis finds him on the battlefield, Apolloplays him to sleep, Hera turns the tide of wars by whispering in the ears ofmothers and wives, but it’s not enough.

There’s so much war in the lives of mortal men, and Aresstruggles to shoulder it all, to endure it all.

Athena had helped the most. Having another war god to sharethe load helped, and it’s not like Athena is displeased with her increase infollowers. But the wars didn’t stop, or even end more quickly, and if theyweren’t all praying to Ares they were still praying for aid in war.

Styx wants to do something to help. But she’s tied to thisriver, to this place, and she doesn’t mind, exactly, except of course for whenshe does.

That’s okay. The underworld is where everyone ends up oneday, and there’s someone right here who can help her.

She’s not afraid to go into Tartarus. Her river flows even there,and unlike those who are imprisoned there, she can leave whenever she likes.But just because she’s not afraid doesn’t mean she likes it, doesn’t mean it’sa place she goes often.

The edges are lined with active volcanoes, and the light oftheir magma is all there is to see by.

Those titans who retain their sanity, their personhood, arein the center of Tartarus. Those on the edge are more monster than god. Theytend to eat every soul that they find that’s less powerful than they are, andStyx wouldn’t say she’s less powerful, but she is differently powerful, and shedoesn’t want to have to call out for Hades to save her.

She can’t die. She is the space between life and death, but beingconsumed by a titan isn’t something she wants to experience regardless.

Unfortunately for her, the titan she needs isn’t the type tohang around the center of Tartarus, not causing trouble. He’s right on theedge. He’s always looking to cause trouble.

Pallas is large even for a titan, standing at the sameheight as a giant, so big that Styx could stand in the palm of his hand. Hisskin is mostly intact, but it’s stretched taught over his bones, and his mouthlooks like it’s filled with jagged glass rather than teeth. “What does thegoddess of the river of the dead want with me?”

His breath comes out putrid and rotten, like something diedin it. Probably several somethings did. She wrinkles her nose. “I need tocreate a person, and I want your help to do it.”

She’s a child goddess, and she can’t bring about a child likeother goddesses can. She may be one of the oldest being of the universe, but itdoesn’t change her body, or her mind, doesn’t change the fact that in many waysshe’s just the age she appears.

Besides, even if she was old enough to conceive a child, Pallaswouldn’t exactly be her first choice.

Pallas laughs, sending more of his rotten breath into herface. “Why should I? Why me? You’re powerful enough to make a person all onyour own.”

“Any being I make on my own will be of me, will be a pieceof what I am, and that’s not what I need,” she tells him. “You are the titan godof warcraft, of battle campaigns. I want your power, and I want your domain.”

He leans over, his eyes as large as a wagon wheel and soonall that she can see. “Direct little thing, aren’t you? You still haven’t toldme why I should help.”

“Why not?” she counters. “A piece of you will be walking theearth once more, a reminder of you to fly in the face of all the gods who stolewhat you had. Why wouldn’t you want that?”

He makes a motion with his face that Styx thinks is supposedto be a smile. “And if I refuse, you’ll take it by force, is that right? Youcould take me on your own, and even if you couldn’t, Persephone could.”

It’s true. She wants to do this on her own, as much as shecan, because she doesn’t want anyone to try and stop her. But if she asked Persephoneor Hecate or Hades, or anyone else in the underworld, for help, then she’d getit. “It’ll work better if you give it willingly.”

Pallas laughs. “Very well, little girl. But remember this. Youasked me for something, and I gave it.”

He raises his hand to his mouth, bites his thumb, and holdsout his hand. Styx realizes what he’s doing just in time to summon a basin underneathit, to catch the couple drops of blood that falls from his thumb.

He’s so large that it’s enough to fill it, enough to fill abath with, even if just the idea of it makes her stomach roll.

Pallas has already turned away from her, lumbering in theopposite direction, and Styx peers down at the titan’s blood. It’s not red, butblack, the same consistency as oil. It’ll do.

She drags the basin to the edge of her river, not willing torisk any of her magic altering it by transporting it alongside her. She hasn’tdone this before, hasn’t done anything like this before, and she’s only goingto get one shot at this. Possibly two, if she makes a small person.

Now she’s grateful that Pallas lurks on the edges ofTartarus rather than the center. It makes hauling the basin to her river a muchshorter process. She can see other titans in the distance, nothing more thanhulking, dripping figures, but they don’t come too close. She wonders if it’sanother favor of Pallas’s, or if it’s just because they know that messing withher means messing with Hades, and their bloodlust isn’t quite that self destructive.

Once she makes it to her river, it’s easy enough to guidethe basin upstream, until she’s out of Tartarus but not quite back to the innermostcircle of the underworld where the palace it. It’s in one of the many in-betweenspaces that Hades and Hecate have made, because she wants to be someplace wheresomeone won’t accidentally stumble across her.

With a tug of her hands, the basin widens, doubling in size,and she uses her river to settle it on the bank of her river, make sure she’son the side of the mortal world. She buries her hand into the earth of hershoreline, the soil damp and dark, and drops it into the basin.

The blood bubbles and steams as the soil hits it, and itsmells just as bad as Pallas’s breath had. That almost makes her pause andreconsider what she’s doing, but instead she bends over to scoop up more soilin her hands to add to the basin. What’s she’s trying to make won’t comeeasily, after all, so there’s no reason to think that it’s gone wrong.

She keeps adding soil, and the smell gets worse, like sulpher,but she ignores it. She has to mix it together evenly, but she tries using astick and it just evaporated as soon as it touches the bubbling mixture.

Fine, then.

Styx plunges her hands in the mixture, ignoring the tinglingon her skin. Her waters are more corrosive then a titan’s blood, but not by much.She beats the mixture until it’s the right consistency, moldable but stillkeeping its shape, until it’s more clay than anything else, and when she pulls herarms out they’re irritated and tinged purple, but her skin is still intact.

Now for the hard part.

She’s no artist, she’s not Athena or Hephaestus, she doesn’thave an eye for beauty like Aphrodite.

“Helen,” she says, and she doesn’t use her powers often, butshe’s of this place more than anyone. She can command the dead just as well asCharon or Icarus.

There’s a ripple, and then Helen of Troy is standing infront of her, head tilted to the side. “Yes, my lady goddess?”

“Can you just,” she bites her lips, looks down at her hands,then says, “Can you just stand there?”

Helen raises an eyebrow, but says, “Yes, my lady goddess.”

Styx forms the clay into roughly the shape of a person, eyesflickering between her creation and Helen. She’s not talented, so she can’t usetalent to make this. Instead she pushes her will into the clay to make it intothe right shape, until she’s got a copy of Helen standing in front of her. It’snot exact, her mouth too wide and her nose too broad, her hips slimmer and legslonger, but it’s clearly a person, clearly a woman, and it will have to do.

“Thank you,” she says, and then dismisses Helen back to her homein the underworld.

There’s one more step to this, but she doesn’t look justright, there’s something missing.

“Icarus,” she sighs, because she’s exhausted and sore andwants to be done with this now, the whole idea had seemed much simpler in herhead.

She’s not summoning him, just calling out for him, but there’sno hesitation before he’s beside her, ink smudges on his hands and his hairaskew like he was running his hands through it. “I’m in the middle of,” he cutshimself off, and his eyes go wide. “Styx. What are you doing?”

She tells him, and he shifts his weight from side to side,nervous, but he doesn’t tell her that it’s a bad idea, doesn’t kick hercreation into her river. “She’s missing something,” Styx says.

Icarus rubs his arms, but looks into the basin, then says, “Ihave an idea.”

He’s not as resistant the effects of titan blood as she is,and he winces and curses as he works, and several times he has to take a breakto wait for the skin on his hands to grow back before he can continue. But hedoes continue, and even though it’s been so long since he’s done this, since hewas trapped in the labyrinth, his movements are easy and confident.

There’s no more clay left in the basin, and on her back aretwo large wings, just like the kind Icarus was wearing when he plunged into thesea.

It’s perfect.

“Now what?” he asks, and she stands in front of hercreation. This isn’t easy for her, to breathe life into something when death isall she knows, but she’s not just death. She’s the River Styx, the barrierbetween the living and the dead, and so she is both living and dying andneither. She breathes in, goes on her tiptoes, and then breathes out. The aircoming form her lungs is golden and sparking, and when it touches the figure’sface it spreads, until she’s a figure covered in liquid gold.

Then it all sinks in at once, the glow that’d been surroundingher gone, but she’s not clay anymore.

Her skin is dark and her hair is the same shade, curled andfalling to just below her chin. The lightest thing about her is her eyes, a softbrown.

Well, except her wings, of course.

They’re golden, unfurling from her back and spreading wide,and those soft eyes focus on her, and she says, “Hello, Mother.”

Icarus shifts on his feet, and it must be as strange for himto hear this as it is for her. “You know what I made you for?”

“Yes,” she says, because how can she not, when Styx pressedher intent into every inch of her.

“Go to Hera,” she says, “tell her. She’ll help you.”

Her creation nods, but Icarus coughs, and then in his handsis a short white chiton and a pair of sandals. “She may be more amendable ifyou don’t show up at her door naked, my lady.”

A smile curves around her lips and she takes the clothes fromIcarus’s hands. Styx is running her eyes over her, looking for any mistake, anysign that she was once soil and blood and not a goddess, but there’s nothing.

For her first time making a person, Styx thinks she’s done arather good job of it.

Her creation takes several steps back, snaps open her wings,and then is soaring into the air, flying away from them and towards Olympus.

Icarus is silent until she disappears from sight, then asks,“Are you going to tell Hades, or shall I?”

Styx gives him a reproachful look. “I really don’t think that’snecessary.

“I suppose,” he says, and Styx is relieved until he follows itup with, “It’s not like he won’t find out all on his own soon enough.”

She scowls and jumps in her river, where Icarus can’t followher and tell her true things she doesn’t want to hear.

Hera feels the moment someone dares touch her throne, andshe’s there the next moment, fury in her veins and power gathering in herhands, because whoever dares be so disrespectful of their queen is soon goingto find themselves nothing more than a pile of ash.

It’s a woman, pretty but mostly unremarkable.

Except for the huge golden wingsattached to her back.

Hera pauses, mouth open, thrown enough off kilter that thewoman has time to say, “I apologize, Queen Hera. I needed your attention.”

“You have it,” she says, and there’s power in this woman, enoughof it that if she’s here to steal herself a seat on the pantheon she just mightmanage it. How could Hera have missed this?

She steps forward, and Hera’s prepared for a threat, but shedoesn’t offer one. Instead the woman whispers in her ear, “I was created tohelp your son, my queen. But first I need you to help me.”

A goddess cannot be truly formidable, cannot consider herselfa true deity, if she doesn’t have a domain.

And she was created to have one very specific domain.

She doesn’t have the time to build it naturally, but withHera she won’t have to.

Hera will speak her name and her dominion into existence,and it shall be hers.

When she hears the details, Hera throws her head back andlaughs. There’s a grin curling her lips as Hera opens her mouth to announce herto the world.

Ares is exhausted. That’s not new, or unusual, but his limbsfeel heavy and his movements sluggish. A sword gets past his defenses and splitsopen his shoulder, and he doesn’t even have the energy to wince. This battlehas been raging for weeks, and he’s been fighting for all of it. It feels likeit’ll never end, and he can’t even slip away. The solders believe in him sodeeply, they call out his name in their sleep and give him offerings every hourof the day. No matter how badly he wants to rest, if only for a couple hours,he can’t, not when their belief pins him in place.

Then the battle begins to shift.

They’ve been struggling to hold this ground the whole time,but now they’re gaining it, pushing their opponents back, and Ares lifts hissword with renewed vigor. They’re winning. If they win, then maybe he canfinally rest.

“You’re welcome,” a voice whispers in his ear, but when he swingsaround, sword outstretched, there’s no one there. For some reason, his eyes aredrawn up to the nearest tall hill, and someone is standing there, glinting goldin the rising sun. He thinks it’s Apollo at first, but the silhouette is allwrong.

He’s beside her in the next moment, this goddess with darkskin and golden wings and an eager, greedy mouth. “Who are you?”

“I am who will soon replace you in the hearts of men,” shesays. “Not all of them, perhaps not even most of them, but many. Their beliefwill make me stronger, and I will answer more of their calls, and even more ofthem will flock to me, until I’m as powerful as you or Athena. They pray to you,but what they really want is me.”

“Who are you?” he repeats, and there’s something familiarabout her, something he can’t quite place but that puts him at east in spite ofwhat she’s saying.

She smiles, tilting her head up towards the sun. “I am Nike,the goddess of victory.”

Victory.

Victory is how wars end. Victory is how he gets a chance tocatch his breath.

All his exhaustion is gone, replaced by joy, and he liftsNike up by her hips, spinning as he holds her up in the air, her golden wingsgiving off a kaleidoscope of light all around them.

As soon as he touches her, he knows why she feels sofamiliar.

It seems he owes Styx a thank you. He wonders if she’ll takehim distracting Hades from whatever lecture he’s intent on giving her asgratitude enough.

Now that he’ll have the time to do it, after all.

gods and monsters series, part xxxi

read more of the gods and monsters series here

#gods and monsters series #styx #nike #hera #ares #greek myth #greek mythology #aaahh #it feels good to write in this series again #happyant21 #asks

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the-silvertonguewitch · 4 years

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Lyra only purposely uses the alethiometer once in TSC (two if you count the unorthodox way she uses it against the zeppelin in the Fen.) She tries it with the new method and the alethiometer answers by giving her a vision that Lyra never questions, reflects upon or try to work out afterward.

She questions the alethiometer about the cat daemon in her dream: “Was she Will’s daemon, and if so, what did that mean?” (TSC, 143)

I thought it could be fun to try working it out for ourselves. Lyra’s question has two elements: the identity of the cat daemon and the general meaning of the dream.

Is the cat daemon Kirjava?

Lyra sees a cat who’s “just a cat” and a young man that looks like Will but isn’t. This probably means “no”. The cat in the dream could’ve reminded her of Kirjava, but it wasn’t Kirjava.

What does it mean?

In the dream, the cat daemon leads Lyra to the red building. They don’t spell it out explicitly, but it’s still heavily implied since every other time a cat shows up (in an alethiometric vision or in a later dream), it’s to lead her somewhere, and because the red building comes up in Lyra’s dream immediately after Lyra “recognizes” Kirjava.

Meanwhile in the vision, the cat who’s just a cat leads Lyra to the study where Olivier Bonneville is. This must be in La Maison Juste, so it could be that the alethiometer is trying to inform Lyra of a connection between this place and the red building. This is a very vague piece of information, however, since it doesn’t tell her anything about the connection itself.

Then Olivier B shows up and a couple of things happen. At first, Lyra mistakes him for Will. Then she feels an uneasiness. Then she correctly identifies him as an alethiometrist. Then she closes the door between them.

Olivier’s striking resemblance to Will could parallel the cat daemon’s resemblance to Will’s daemon. It goes with the first half of Lyra’s enquiry (“Was she Will’s daemon?” Answer: “no”.)

It gets more complicated after that. The uneasiness, the fact that he’s reading an alethiometer, and Lyra closing the door could all point to clarification regarding what, exactly, is the connection between the red building and La Maison Juste. Either it’s that, or it concerns the identity of the cat daemon again. And – again – what is the alethiometer trying to tell Lyra?

Some checkpoints:

-In the vision, Lyra intuitively picks up that Bonneville is someone to be wary of.

-He’s an alethiometrist: does this symbolize knowledge? Dust?

-She (perhaps unconsciously) also catches on that he’s spying on her (hence closing the door to hide herself from view).

Personally, I think that the most plausible interpretation is that Lyra is being spied on and followed by someone, or by several peoples, from La Maison Juste. At least that’s what the alethiometer is trying to tell her.

It connects to the matter of the red building if we account for the fact that Marcel Delamare is also going after it. One of Lyra’s central questions during/after having the dream is about WHY she has to go there. While she’s asleep she knows the answer, but she forgets it or can’t work it out when she wakes up. By showing her Olivier in La Maison Juste, the alethiometer explains it to her: she must reach the red building because (fill in the blank: Delamare will seize it if she doesn’t? Admittedly, this does feels as bit dry.)

A really intriguing aspect of Lyra’s vision is that it correlates an awful lot with the beginning of Alice’s adventures in Wonderland. Alice follows an animal down a rabbit hole and Lyra “follows” a cat down a “terrible depth” (TSC, 142). I’ve been reading a book called Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland Decoded, in which the author points out the parallels between Alice and Persephone, Wonderland and the Underworld, and sure enough, Lyra’s “fall” brings her in a place which could be associated with the “Underworld”: a forest “resounding with animal cries and human screams and the whisper of terrified ghosts” (TSC, 143). The parallels even go further. The first place Alice visits in Wonderland is a “long, low hall” “lit up by a row of lamps hanging from the roof”. The alethiometer shows Lyra “a corridor, with windows opening onto a narrow courtyard below”, its walls “painted or distempered a pale chalky green” (TSC, 144). In the hall, Alice discovers a “tiny golden key” meant for a small door that opens on “the loveliest garden you ever saw”. However, she can’t reach it because the door is too small. She eventually enters the garden by other means, after wandering around for a while in Wonderland (meaning, after gaining experience and knowledge and growing wiser). Wonderland is a place without logic. Nothing there make sense. Compare this with Lyra’s journey: she’s hoping to reach Karamakan and the rose garden, but she thinks too small. She’s too taken up by Brande and Talbot’s absolute rationalism (who both bring logic up to a point of absurdity, ironically). These parallels with Alice don’t necessarily explain Lyra’s vision but I’m mentioning them anyway because they can contextualize what comes next for her.

What are your thoughts on the alethiomether’s answer?

ETA: about Lyra closing the door between Bonneville and her, I wonder if it wouldn’t have something to do with Pan leaving. Bonneville can’t track Lyra down directly when Pan isn’t with her, so Pan effectively “closed the door” when he left. If one really wanted to read the red building into this, they could argue that daemons and humans can’t travel in Karamakan together, and/or that being separated from Pan is a big part of the reason why Lyra resolves to undertake the journey there in the first place. Maybe this is too circumvoluted, I don’t know. I’m still trying to interpret all of this within the frame of Lyra’s initial question to the alethiometer.

#hdm meta #HDM metas #the book of dust #the secret commonwealth #his dark materials #lyra belacqua #lyra silvertongue #my metas

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starlit-dreaming · 4 years

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[WMMAP] Lucathy Ideas (6/?)

haha

here i am again

with lucathy ideas instead of finishing ch8 of crescendo

also i think halfway through this post, i was sleep-deprived via all-nighter (i like to spite myself in times like these), so if some of the ideas feel like its been derailed, or that it doesn’t make sense, or that it needs more elaborating on, then that’s probably me being sleepy as fuck and typing whatever to my heart’s content cause a sleep-deprived wyn is a cheeky lil shit like that (full bromo though. which. kinda sounds weird. since i’m telling that to myself.)

and because im the type that just goes “no beta we die like lp athanasia” when it comes to my work, i decided not to proofread any of this. because i wrote a lot for this post over the course of several days because im nervously waiting until i finally plunge myself back into another fandom (or three) soon

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | [6] | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

when left behind -- God/Goddess AU

• it’s not really a hades and persephone au, but it’s definitely inspired from it with the whole “omg hades kidnapped persephone we have to save them!!!” sort of concept

• there are some elements from lovely princess, but a majority is from wmmap

• claude is the god in charge, the god of law and order, probably??? diana is the goddess of dance and travels, so she doesn’t always stay in heaven and never stays in one place (she has a positive relationship with athy, but she isn’t always there for her and might even go years without seeing her -- which, of course, athy is bitter about that at times, but she doesn’t fault her since she’s the goddess of travels). because diana’s alive, he doesn’t hate athanasia, but he's more awkward and indifferent towards athy and refrains from interacting with her unless he’s really missing diana

• so yeah. parental neglect, much? but hey, on the bright side, at least claude isn’t a huge dick to athanasia because the reason why he is was eliminated, it’s just that the familial distance is caused by their duties as gods/goddesses. im thinking of claude’s relationship with athy after athy met lucas in wmmap, but before she almost died and moved into the emerald palace. meaning, he firmly believes that if athanasia disappeared he wouldn’t be affected by her Not being there, but really, he’s in denial about it. he just doesn’t get that realization until later on because he normally doesn’t see her every single day

• lucas is the god of death and magic, athanasia is the goddess of mercy (and maybe truth??? its tempting for me to say she represents honesty and mercy). jennette is the goddess of kindness and forgiveness, ezekiel is the god of justice and knowledge??? felix is the god of protection, lillian is the goddess of motherhood

• can you tell that i was really subtle with those match up pairs? cause im really not being subtle about the pairings. im a ride or die claudiana, lucathy, jennkiel, calena, and felix/lily shipper and all those are going to be recurring ships in all my wmmap au’s

• for that lovely inclusion of calena, helena’s the goddess of nature and cabel’s the god of archery and they’re married and helena adores playing matchmaker for people. her current goal is getting felix and lily together

• funny story of how lucas became the god of death, actually. so anastacius was the former god of death (who got yeeted out of heaven by claude), but lucas, being the god of magic for who knows how long, decides to just yeet him off the throne for the underworld who rejoiced at having a new death for a ruler, and thus, lucas ended up becoming the god of death because of his actions

• anyways. so sometimes shit gets boring (and i dont have any other ideas that comes to mind that would justify this happening), so its only natural that maybe a god/goddess or two, or three, decide to start drama involving people.

• it could be anyone who started it, honestly, but i’m gonna draw in an element from the LP-verse by saying it was jennette’s aunt, rosalia, who started shit

• and, surprise, surprise, it involves athanasia being the victim of this drama

• claude is the god of law and order, so he has to be logical, but he’s not very close to athanasia as he is in the WMMAP-verse. he doesn’t know what kind of person his daughter really is, and according to rosalia, the problem lies in the fact that she’s jealous of jennette and ezekiel’s relationship, that she’s jealous of how everyone loves jennette, etc, etc, and that’s why she’s trying to cause problems with jennette that inconveniences her

• and claude, is being fed lies, and rosalia essentially fabricates evidence to prove that athanasia’s the one causing jennette some problems. and as much as he doesn’t think athanasia would ever do it, he’s still the god of law and order and he has to be impartial even to his family

• so athanasia’s punishment is that she is to be kicked out of heaven for several decades. jennette and helena try to argue against the decree. rosalia didnt expect athanasia to get kicked out, but she and the others are not complaining because Drama, plus, most of the other gods/goddesses think that she’s pretty gloomy in comparison to diana, so they consider this to be a win-win -- entertaining and they won’t have to deal with athanasia

• and nobody hears from her for several decades

• until lucas, the god of death, decides to make an appearance in heaven and asks claude about mercy, and because lucas is a pretty handsome dude, chances are, people are gonna shit talk athanasia in hopes that they’ll earn death’s favor (especially for those who were jealous of athy)

• i want to use “you won’t find any mercy in heaven” as a line being said to lucas

• at one point, while jennette is spending time with athy in her regular visits to her sister-like friend, picking flowers and all that and talking about how much she wishes athy would come back because it wasnt her fault blahblahblah, and then she jumps to conclusions when lucas pops up out of nowhere, whisks athy off her feet, and heads off in a carriage to the underworld

• jennette assumes that athy’s been kidnapped by lucas and cries to claude and ezekiel about it

• now. death and mercy have a history together that not a lot of gods remember or have ever seen or considered. mercy killing is a Thing, and during war times? it definitely happens a lot. having mercy to spare someone from death has also happened before, and those were the only times jennette ever sees athy during war times -- kindness and compassion and showing mercy in sparing lives. which makes jennette naive to the reasons why death and mercy are a good pair

• this is also the reason why cabel, helena, lucas, and athy all have a history and are a close knit group -- they all have something to do with death. hunting/archery. poisonous/harmful plants. dying in general. mercy killing. while cabel, lucas, and athy take active parts during war times, helena holds a passive killing role (unless people are actively using plants to make poisons, but that’s besides the point). so overall, they all know each other better than anyone else

• and yes, lucas will consider fighting lily and helena both for the title of “i know athy the best”

• anyways, so jennette and ezekiel both travel to the underworld because they’re determined to rescue athanasia (because, well, ezekiel is also naive in the sense that he’s never seen athanasia mercy kill before, so he also thinks that mercy x death is a bad match)

• and thats where jennette realizes that lucas is athanasia’s precious “luke” that she talks about all the time and is instantly relieved that it really was just a misunderstanding on her part and now instead of being worried, shes absolutely delighted to hear the news about their betrothal

• this doesnt change the fact that heaven’s in an uproar about the lucathy’s betrothal because there’s a bunch of chaos -- “sweet athanasia’s been kidnapped by the cruel lucas, the horrible god of death!” or something like that

• something along those lines

• claude sends ezekiel back to the underworld to give them a message to release athanasia from the underworld within 7 days -- safe and sound

• lucas: and if i don’t want to? ezekiel: then there will be war...? athy: then there will be war //smiles

• thankfully, there will NOT be a war

• because diana returns to heaven (not the first time since athanasia was gone, but the excuse that was given to her was that “athanasia is busy and not in heaven atm” so diana didn’t realize she got yeeted out for a few decades) and this time she found out from lilian that athanasia’s going to get married, how it all ended up happening, and she tells claude that they’re both traveling to the underworld to congratulate their daughter on her betrothal and that he won’t be stopping their daughter from being happily married

• which. it was technically thanks to claude that lucas could easily sweep in and propose to athy. since he more or less kicked her out of heaven until she “apologizes for her actions”. there wasn’t proof that revealed that athy was framed, so the decree wasnt taken back until after all this happened

• this is an au that i'm hoping to write, because i’d love to write about lucas and athy during war times because godly warrior couple lucathy

child of mine -- modern au

• basically just full on kid fluff -- it’ll follow after the events of [it was only one night] that i mentioned in my Lucathy Ideas 3 (which will probably have to wait until after i’m finished with working on it rip)

• so this is spoilers for people who haven’t read my wip tidbits that i’ve posted for that story, [child of mine] follows a pair of twins Elias and Aria Hwang (aka, Aurelius and Ariadne Obelia-Hwang) from after they’re born. as in baby shenanigans

• i want elias to ask for a baby bro because he wants to be an older brother (aria is older by 7 minutes). instead of getting a baby bro, he gets a baby sister. emily, emma, elena, lucina, althea??? maybe. i’m still thinking about it. i like using thea as a nickname too, and as much as i love aletheia as a name, its not a name that i’m using for this au (i have a lot of different name possibilities in my head tbh, because then it’ll be a fun little project for future me to draw the lucathy kids across all of the au’s i’ve been thinking of)

• i want a lot of sibling shenanigans too and most of this is based on my convos/interactions with my little cousins because they’re so adorably chaotic and i live for it

• one time, my little cousin (age 3-4), would just keep giggling and ducking to hide behind the couch i was sitting on, and i’d peek over the sofa and she’d run off with a giggly squeal. and when i walked past her next hiding spot, she’d run off again that we ended up doing this random “chase” and hide (even though i could clearly see her and that i was only walking throughout the entire time)

• me and two of my cousins (i think they were both 13 & 14 at the time) had a discussion that our 7 year old cousin was possibly tarzan’s descendant or a demon banshee disguised as a child

• i have a very tiny 7 year old cousin. every time i see her i keep thinking that she’s 4 or 5, because every time she talks its hard for me to understand whether or not if she’s actually saying words, and she’s tiny. i want the 2nd lucathy daughter to be the tiny baby of the family

• quotes without context from my convos with ira whenever i talk to him about my cousins:

“my cousin Ri (17-18), whose on my friends list, will probably go wtf???”

“A (13-14) wanted to know if dinosaurs have tits.”

“Me: are you drunk off of pizza? J (12-13): //slowly nods J: off brand drug //takes a bite of pizza J: //closes door”

“tbh im not surprised that she zero'd in on the mention of boobs since this is the same funky lil lesbian cousin we’re talking about”

“i think my cousin’s a furry, tho”

• i realize now that it’s on the more shitposty side of things, but thats alright because it’ll keep this story interesting and amusing (for me, i mean)

• if you think that athy and lucas would only have 3 kids then you’re wrong because the child acquisition tag exists for a reason and they’re gonna adopt a shit ton of kids

in the rain -- coffee shop + university au

• so helena more or less sets athy up on a blind date at this nice coffee shop near the university campus. except the guy doesn’t show up after an hour of her waiting

• it starts raining, and she more or less thinks “fuck this” and decides to order some cake with the coffee she’s been drinking for a bit and stay at the cafe until the rain dies down or something. she pulls out her tablet from her purse and just starts working on her school assignments because the dude’s over an hour late, she’s not gonna waste more of her time when she could be finishing up her assignments.

• some of the university students start to fill the place up. all except for her table. and when lucas comes in to his favorite coffee shop, he asks her if he could sit at her table since there’s no other place in the shop to sit down at, and she tells him to go ahead, so he takes a seat across from her.

• and like. keep in mind. athanasia’s gorgeous and ridiculously pretty in a princess-like way. lucas is also gorgeous and ridiculously pretty in a ‘tall, dark, mysterious’ way. so everyone’s more or less thinking “fuck of course they’re together” because. yknow. misunderstandings.

• at one point, athy gets a text from helena asking her how the date’s going, and helena immediately calls athy when she responds with “he never showed”

• and helena loudly asks her a bunch of questions on what happened, etc, etc, and lucas is literally sitting near her and it’s loud enough for him to actually hear helena’s questions

• and athy shrugs saying “idfk he just never showed up” and then throws in a “but hey, on the bright side this cafe’s pretty great, kinda crowded cause of the rain, but it’s pretty great”

• before anyone wonders, no, lucas was not athy’s blind date. we can talk about a lucathy blind date au later though. it was actually ezekiel

• and essentially helena curses ezekiel’s name and wonders if she and jennette “shouldve told him that it was a date with you” -- because he didn’t know, and he definitely wouldve regretted not showing up to the blind date. granted, he never made any promises to go on the blind date to begin with, which was an issue of communication on their part

• and athy is just in disbelief cause she had a crush on kiel when she was in high school, but she doesn’t feel the same now. regardless, helena then suggests “maybe i could set you up with another guy” to which athy just nervously laughs and goes “maybe” and sighing in relief when the call ends

• i dont remember what i was thinking of, but i think i had lucas making notes as he skims through a history textbook, then athy going “oh hey, i have that class too” and then the rest is history (eyyyy)

• the original concept for this au was described as a “romcom level cheesy romance”, similar to Friday’s “Good Morning” by Honeyworks tbh. its a rainy day and the romance starts because she gives the guy an umbrella

• hmm. maybe i should consider turning this into a honeyworks au, although sena and midori are more like calena than lucathy ngl, which i guess is something to consider about since its two shy dorks and oof now i’m not sure

but like srsly look at this image from the mv to know what i mean:

what can i say? cute. dorks. in. love.

but this au will have to wait for another day since i havent thought of it before

((note to self: brainstorm for a honeyworks au at some point))

more than meets the eye -- blind date au

• i said i would talk more about a blind date au so here’s that blind date au i (probably) teased you about. i’d like to consider this the [my teacher and my sister’s best friend] divergence (that au idea can be found in my Lucathy Ideas 5), where lucas and athy met on a blind date, and just decided to give their relationship a tentative try (and that they actually worked things out instead of being stubborn and breaking things off //coughs)

• so. i’d like to imagine that athanasia is the type of person who would make sure she gets to places on time by aiming to arrive 5-10 minutes before any kind of meeting. while lucas is the type of dude to just be there on time without any issue for the most part. which is gonna annoy athanasia just a little because how the fuck does he manage to look that good with only a few minutes? magic. even though its a modern setting

• on their blind date, it’s really fucking awkward. they go to the same university campus, so they’re vaguely familiar to each other in a “i think i’ve seen you around the area before”

• that does not change the fact that its a very awkward date

• lucas is the type to internalize his thoughts -- he’s blunt about his opinions, but he can read the mood for the most part, its just that he sucks at understanding emotions. and he’s just internally thinking “she’s so pretty what the heck?”

• meanwhile athanasia is currently freaking out inside her mind because holy shit helena set her up with a gorgeous guy

• in the au helena hadn’t really met cabel until after cabel became a teacher at her brother’s school, and even then, she didn’t formally meet him until the parent-teacher conferences when her brother ended up in her guardianship. so what adds onto this divergence, helena and cabel actually end up meeting each other earlier due to lucas and athy trying to make the relationship work after their blind date (as well as not letting misunderstandings get in the way

mother, mother -- sixth sense??? i see dead people au

• a retelling of wmmap with an eventual divergence. why? because athanasia can see ghosts. more specifically, she can see diana’s ghost.

• thats,,,, thats it. thats all that was in my notes. it was literally a “WHAT IF ATHY HAS ALWAYS BEEN ABLE TO SEE GHOSTS SINCE SHE WAS BORN AND HAS ALWAYS BEEN ABLE TO SEE DIANA”

• so i guess this is the portion where i pull ideas outta my ass as i go along and y’know, i don’t actually know the reason why claude killed everyone in the ruby palace after diana died. maybe its mentioned in the novel and i just flat out havent read it yet since i rely on english translations, maybe its already posted in a chapter for someone’s english translations and i just haven’t dragged myself back to catching up on the updated chapters of said translation

• regardless, ive got ideas and speculations. like, ok, i get that diana undoubtedly died cause of athanasia’s magic causing too much strain on diana’s body and that maybe athy’s uncontrollable magic ended up killing the other concubines, which is something that i wholeheartedly believe to have happened. but before i realized that all of it would be the reason why diana died, i thought “well, claude obviously favors diana. but before diana, there were a ton of concubines, werent there? so maybe they were all jealous that diana became the favourite and tried to get diana to miscarry”

• regardless, this means that athanasia is never alone.

• i want a bunch of ghostly concubines talk to athy on a regular basis after they realize that she’s able to see them, and diana trying to shoo them away if they end up almost gearing towards the not-safe-for-wyn type of stories

• or advice (for when she gets older)

• so. she’s aware that athy knows a lot more than she should for a kid. and at first she was very much a proud mama for having such a smart daughter, but athy has plans for running away when she’s only five??? and normal kids are normally just happy to play and all that????????

• eventually, athy has to vaguely explain her situation to diana, and diana more or less accepts it because, well, athy has a ton of magic which is what killed her, and athy’s capable of seeing and interacting with ghosts

• and it essentially deals a little bit with athy’s guilt in the fact that she’s “not actually diana’s daughter” because diana reassures her that even if she has the mind of an orphaned stranger unrelated to her, she still sees her as athanasia, her daughter (“you’ll always be my daughter, regardless of whether or not you have the memories of someone else”)

• she still thinks that running away would be too extreme. although she also thinks that claude just needs to give athy a chance by actually being active in her life

• diana favours watching over athanasia and claude, and she gets immensely happy when athy accidentally runs into claude and when they all spend time together. it’s very sweet and sometimes amusing (for me) because athy has to resist answering back when diana says something. but also gets hella fucking sad because, yknow, dead mom

• can you imagine how diana would feel when athy tries drinking lippe tea for the first time and ends up reminding claude of diana and that he’s definitely still upset by the death as if it recently happened? yeah. thats gonna hurt.

• the divergence from the story happens after that tea party and the “what does mom look like” doesn’t happen in the same way because athy already knows what her mom looks like. so she just goes ahead and draws her mom, and at first lily thinks that she’s drawing a self-portrait

• until athy uses red-pink crayons for diana’s eyes. and thats when athy states “i’m drawing mom” and that’ll lead to an awkward vibes because felix and lily thinks that she really wants to see her mom, meanwhile athy and diana are just “oh god this is a mess,,,,” because athy hasn’t made it a secret that she can see diana

• i want athy to, at one point, say “it’s okay, mom’s always with me so i’m never alone” or something along those lines

• diana was definitely by her side when athy meets lucas, and lucas cant see diana, but he knows that there’s something clinging onto athy outside of the whole magic situation athy has

• she’ll forgive him after he saves athy’s life, but she’s definitely wary until several months into their friendship

• after lucas starts keeping athy company at night on her bdays, diana is always at claude’s side until morning arrives. she knows that lucas visits athy and she knows that athy isn’t too torn up about claude not seeing her on her bday, so she’s more or less trusting lucas with watching over athy

• those “dreams” claude has while he’s on his sofa seeing diana in front of him arent actually dreams (most of the time), its just that diana’s ghost is being affected by athy’s magic or something as cheesy as that

• when lucas returns from his trip to the world tree he’s definitely able to see diana more clearly. he just doesnt really bother to outright state that he can see her. but diana’s definitely aware that he sees her when he stares at her from time to time

• it makes athy very nervous, thinking “wait can he see her or???” because before his trip to the world tree, lucas would occasionally stare in diana’s direction but it was more of a “thought someone was staring at me” kind of thing (he could sense her, but he couldn’t really see her due to his low magic)

• i think thats all that i wanted to think of???

• actually wait. the Lucathy Kiss™

• so. they definitely weren’t alone. diana was definitely there when athy suggested a kiss, and athy definitely forgot that diana was there as she gave lucas a kiss

• i’d like to imagine that diana is the type of person who loves to tease people and she’ll definitely tease athy about her first (cheek) kiss (to someone other than claude)

• of course, athy confides in diana about knowing when someone has a crush on you because it’s very obvious that ezekiel likes her and that she’s not sure what to think of it. and diana’s used to having plenty of admirers and rejecting all of them with the exception of claude

• the ruby palace concubine ghosts definitely misunderstand, and they definitely offer athy ideas and advice on how to win lucas’s infatuation that she did not ask for nor did she ever want to know

• claude’s able to occasionally catch glimpses of diana after he gets whacked by the magic branch

• ok thats it. can you tell that this is another au of mine that i really want to come back and work on? because i really do want to come back and work on this

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | [6] | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

out of curiosity -- if i were to ever make a new wattpad under the same name (starlit-dreaming), would you want me to create a story titled “Lucathy Misc Tidbits” and essentially have me go over the ideas that I’ve posted on tumblr, but with a more proper format, additional detail, and extra ideas/concepts for the au?

ngl, i’m already thinking about maybe posting a series of oneshots based on word prompts (feel free to suggest some words via asks or dm’s for that btw, although there’s no promise that i’ll use them, but i’ll at least consider them for ideas). ao3 is my main preference for posting fanfics and i’m willing to try posting stuff on wattpad, since i’ve never posted my stories on that site before (and because i’ve been reading some lucathy fics and am highkey blaming @ilyusha-hwang and @lithium-15 and at this point, i might as well).

#lucathy #wmmap lucas #wmmap ideas #ideas for the wyn #sbapod ideas #who made me a princess #athanasia de alger obelia #suddenly became a princess one day #wynter writes #//long post #starlit rambles #rambles: the lucathy ideas #wmmap #sbapod

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valkyriesryde · 4 years

Text

Release the Hounds {11/?}

Chapter 11: Wine Plays Tricks on the Tongue

Pairing: Persephone!Steve Rogers x Hades!Reader

Chapter Summary: Steve goes looking for Hades as he thinks about all he’s been told and realises that things still aren’t right...

Word Count: 3,532

A/N: WARNING: There is some talk about Cassandra and trigger warning themes in her myth like rape and death though the former is not explicitly said and just a passing piece of fact Well this is long overdue, I really struggled with this chapter, I spent weeks just looking at the document but I’m really happy with how it turned out, we’re getting near the end and these arcs are finally coming to their point, I’m really happy with Steve’s character and how far along he’s come and I hope you guys can forgive me for the long gap in updates and enjoy it to!

Steve spent days wandering the halls of Hades’ home. He explored her library and read about the history of the mortal world through both fiction and non-fiction works. He spent three days going into the fields with the judges and observing and questioning them as they worked. He helped Harley and Charon move souls through the gates in the morning and in the afternoon he would do as he pleased.

Today it was brisk but warm if that were such a thing. The sun kissed his face as it streamed through the open windows but the air bit at his skin when he stepped out of the light. He wasn’t quite sure what to do today. He wanted to see Hades, but that was a constant thought in his head, wondering what she was doing, why he hadn’t see her much since he’d taken residence in the Underworld.

“She’s just busy, don’t take it personally. There’s a lot she has to do at the moment,” Wanda had said to him when he asked why he’d barely seen her.

“Or do take it personally,” Harley had muttered under his breath with a mouth full of food, the good stuff too, from Olympus that Wanda had made Peter bring just for Steve.

“You’re not a fan of me,” Steve noted snatching the bread before Harley could get to it, if the only food he was allowed to eat was that from Olympus he wasn’t going to give it up without a fight.

“I’m not a fan of your kind, I’m on the fence about you.” Harley snarked back.

Steve did take it personally. This entire time, the entire time he’d been curious and asking and learning about the Underworld he’d always been told Hades took a hands on approach. But now she’s hiding in her office and it’s all because he’s here.

The door creaked open and Steve couldn’t hear a sound or see anything out of the ordinary when he stepped into her office.

“Hello? I knocked but there was no-are you here?” He asked the empty room. No one sat at her desk, there wasn’t a paper askew. Yet Steve could have sworn he watched her walk in here a couple hours ago and he hadn’t seen or heard her leave since. “I know you’re in here.”

He stepped further into the office, it was much tidier than it had been the last time he was here, apart from the desk where piles of paper threatened to fall. Behind her desk were floor to ceiling windows of the gates, to its side were towering bookshelves that held all the greats and some not so much. She had paintings and statues, she had her armour sitting by the door on display. It was so different from the rest of her home, it didn’t feel like a home in here, it was a place of power and work.

Or maybe that’s just what Steve felt. He had the same feeling in his gut as he did all those weeks ago on stage, that same feeling he got when she was near him. Power, calmness, stability. It enveloped him like a hug but it wasn’t as close as it was on stage it was creeping away from him.

“I can feel you,” he whispered to the empty room, trying to find any clue as to where she was. “I don’t know why but I can feel when you’re near me,” it got stronger until it was all around him and he thought he could feel the air shift by his cheek until it was snatched away. “I can’t explain it, I don’t know what’s happening and I feel like people are keeping things from me.”

Steve didn’t know why he was spilling this information to an empty room, though he wasn’t completely convinced it was empty. He needed to get it out. He’d bottled up these feelings for years, the feeling that he never knew the whole story, that people were always telling him half truths or that there was always something more to it.

“It’s like I’m being told bits of the story and just expected to figure out the rest for myself but I can’t!” He was desperate, he just wanted to know why this was all happening. Why was it such a big deal?

He knew about World War II, he knew about Demeter and Hades’ fight, about how they always went head to head but he just couldn’t shake the feeling in his gut that that wasn’t all it was. Gods hold grudges, that much is true, and it’s perfectly reasonable to expect them to continue hating each other over one event for all this time. But they hated each other before that, from what Bucky had told him that was the last straw, there had to be something before that.

“You know what else I can’t get my head around?” His voice was strangled in his throat, his brows furrowed down as he started to pace the silent office. “Why I’m in the middle of it? I know I’m Demeter’s son, I know that I stood up for you. That doesn’t explain her outburst, she could have just refused, she could have locked me in the garden or on earth. She didn’t have to fight because she has the power, she has always had the power over me.” Slowly, the clues started clicking in his head, events started to make sense. “I know you’re the one person she hates most, I know that she fears you to an extent but none of her reactions or actions are what I expected from her. So I can’t help but thinking, I just- what if- what if it’s me? What if this isn’t about her hatred for you, what if this isn’t about Ares or World War II, it’s not about you sitting on the council. It’s about me, it’s about my interest in you, it’s about how I feel about you.”

A book fell from its shelf suddenly, it lay open on the floor and Steve jumped at the sudden crash before bending down and picking up the book. The page it had opened to talked about Oedipus, a man who unknowingly killed his father and married his mother. Steve knew the story, most did, there was an entire psychological theory based on his misfortune. Although the page the book had opened on didn’t focus on his relationship with his mother. Instead, it talked about the continuing efforts in the myth of preventing prophecy. About how Oedipus was destined to kill his father so was given away as a baby. When Oedipus found out he was destined to kill his father he assumed it was the father he had grown up with, the man who had helped raise him because that’s who he believed his father to be. He attempted to avoid this by leaving home and never returning. But in the end, as the book told Steve, prophecies have a way of coming to be no matter how much we try and stop it, and Oedipus killed his birth father and married his mother just like the oracle in Delphi had told him he would.

Steve turned the book over and read the title ‘Lessons Learned in Myth’ then the chapter title ‘Why one shouldn’t work against fate’. He stood there looking at the book, mulling over the words, over what it meant. He thought about what he’d been told, the facts that he knew. None directly related to the fates or any sort of oracle or prophecy that he could think of. Except what Bucky had said about Cassandra going to Hades and then him, but that was so long ago surely it was just Bucky reminiscing.

“…you should know not to take things you’re told at face value” Sam had told him. Was that Bucky trying to tell him something? Was there a prophecy that he didn’t know about?

“That’s why she kept me in the dark about everything,” he whispered to himself, it made sense, why she wouldn’t let him near the council, why Demeter tried to make him hate Hades so much. “Its her and I, there’s a prophecy with Hades and I and Demeter doesn’t want it to happen-“

A crash came from behind him and Steve jumped and dropped the book. He spun on his feet and was met with Hades’ helmet clattering and spinning on the floor, the door wide open. She was here! Though Steve had no time to register that has he ran after her.

“Wait!” He called and caught her in the foyer. He grabbed her wrist and she turned to face him, panic in her eyes but anger behind them. “I’m right aren’t I?! There’s a prophecy with you and I and that’s why everything has blown up because it’s happening! Isn’t it?!” He was angry and he didn’t want to yell at her but by all the gods he was fuming at how he’d been kept in the dark by everyone he loved, he was betrayed.

“She shouldn’t know of its existence, this doesn’t make sense!” Hades pulled her wrist out of his grip and ran her fingers through her hair, she paced in front of him mumbling, “theres now way - only Loki and Bucky and - Thor must have - but he swore -“

“HADES!” He yelled and her mumbling and movement stopped as she looked at him.

That’s when it clicked for her, she’d memorised the prophecy years ago, she’d spent centuries thinking of the possibilities, of what each line and each word could mean. She had a strong feeling Harley was right about the first line.

When the wind is still and the air is cold, the sun will shine in Hades.

It was still spring in the Underworld and with every day it got warmer and the northern hemisphere of the mortal world got colder. It made perfect sense though that the words Cassandra had repeated wouldn’t be in order of events. She broke it down in her head, each line until she found what she was looking for and she whispered it into the air between her and Steve.

“But the daffodil will grow through the cracks of the grave.”

He looked at her like she was the Hydra and had grown two more heads.

“Tell me the truth, the whole truth…Now.” He said through gritted teeth and she nodded her head and pulled him out the door.

“I will, now, on the way.”

“Where are we going?” Her fingers laced with his and he couldn’t help the floating feeling in his stomach when she tightened her grip for a second with no sign of letting go. Was this real? Was what he feeling real? Was it a romantic attraction towards her? Or was it just this prophecy?

“To see a girl.”

Cassandra. A priestess, a daughter to a king, a victim of Troy, and a victim of Apollo. She comes from a famous family, her brother, Hector, was a Trojan hero during the Trojan War. Her father was King Priam of Troy. She herself is also famous in antiquity, believe it or not but it isn’t often that gods fall head over heels for humans (attraction is different from affection). So the girl who Apollo fell for is always a tale to remember. She was, and still is, clever and sarcastic beyond her looks though still beautiful as ever. Bucky tried during the years of the war to catch her eye, he would send her gifts, he would find her watching the carnage and try and talk to her. She never relented, Cassandra had no eyes for the god, at least not in the way he wanted. With one final attempt he offered her his greatest gift, the ability to see the future as it was to be.

Yet she still refused his hand, her loyalty was to her family and Troy, they couldn’t be together since he was a god and she was just human. So Bucky got angry and instead of taking her gift away he let her keep it, but no prophecy she told would be believed. He said she pulled him along, that he tempted her and lied to her, entertained his feelings towards her without ever having the intention of actually being with him. She told him he deserved it, she took a vow of chastity and even as a priestess of Apollo, she would not be his. He told her she deserved what she got and hoped this would be a lesson to never toy with one’s heart again.

It wasn’t Bucky’s proudest moment…

She was seen as mad by her family, every time she warned them of the war, of Paris and what he and Helen would bring to troy she was pushed aside and ignored. Eventually, it did drive her mad, she was angry and violent towards Helen as she knew that she was to blame for the destruction of her home.

When she warned the Trojans about the wooden horse and the fate of herself and others they ignored her. Every single one, Odysseus’ journey home, Aeneas’s escape, Agamemnon’s death, all of them were disregarded. When Hector died she became more frantic and frustrated, she cursed the name Apollo. She became suicidal, attempting to burn the Trojan Horse herself since no one believed her. When Troy fell she sought help from Athena, and hid in Natasha’s temple and Natasha had to witness the brutality and wrath that the Greek hero Ajax thrust upon her, even the goddess who was an ally to the Greeks wept for Cassandra. Until she died violently with Agamemnon.

Upon her judgment at the gates of the Underworld she was deemed worthy of Elysian fields and followed Pietro to her new home as a hero and devote prophet. Her dedication to what is right and to the gods proved her worth. Her curse did not carry over to the Underworld, Hecate made sure that curses made on the living did not affect the dead. However, her gift of fortune wasn’t a curse, and so it slipped through the cracks and she now found that she was able to see the future and those around her that would listen believed her.

It took some time, for a long time she hated her gift, it had brought her nothing but bad luck and she ignored every prophecy, she ignored the visions of Caesar and the Roman Empire, the crusades, she ignored it all. Until she saw Hades.

Cassandra didn’t know the man with her, she didn’t recognise the location they were, she felt the cold of the snow on her fingertips and she saw the droplets of gold on the ground. The words played in her head and she knew she had to tell someone. So she ran to Pietro who ran to Hades who ran to Bucky who claimed she was wrong. Until he remembered the curse and until she showed him the vision. That’s when Thor and Loki were brought in, that’s when Sam and Wanda were told about the prophecy that Cassandra had seen.

Hades told Steve all of this on their way to Cassandra in the Elysian field. She told him that those that knew made a vow not to tell anyone else, that no one needed to know unless absolutely necessary.

“How long has Demeter tried to convince you to hate me?” Her pace slowed as they neared the lush grass and could see Pietro in the distance already with Cassandra.

“For as long as I can remember, it definitely became more apparent after World War II but I figured that was just because of-“

“That’s possible, but I think she knew before that. She was angry at me before I even appeared at the council, before that day. He must have told her before that. Cassandra, meet Steve, god of Spring,” Hades let Steve’s hand fall from her own as she introduced him to the prophet that started this all.

“The daffodil,” she smiled and Steve was confused for a second until he remembered what Hades had said and realised that he was the daffodil, in the prophecy and on the gates, it was a symbol for him.

“Why did you call us here Hades?” Pietro asked as Sam and Wanda joined them. Cassandra sunk into Pietro’s side in the presence of the gods around her, Steve noticed how frightened and small she was even though she tried to appear as anything but.

“Demeter knows about the prophecy.”

“What?!” the judges exclaimed but Hades attention was on Cassandra.

“This is very bad my queen,” she whispered, she was pressed against Pietro’s side now but he wasn’t fazed by how her body tried to slip through his.

“Is there anything else you can tell us Cassandra? Anything at all?” She bit her lip, she hadn’t told her about the snow or the dripping gold, she’d only told Bucky as she feared what it meant. She couldn’t fathom the idea of her queen dying at the hands of another god, or even him, Steve, god of spring who was destined to be with Hades. Cassandra refused to think of the possibilities.

“No, I’ve told you everything I know. If he is here,” she nodded towards Steve, “then the prophecy has already begun, if his mother knows this too… all we can do is let it happen.”

“I don’t like the sound of that,” Sam said warily and Pietro and Wanda both nodded in agreement.

“We just let it happen?” Steve asked out loud, he remembered the book, the lesson it was open to, ‘Why one shouldn’t work against fate’ but he didn’t care right now. He was sick of his mother getting in the way, he was sick of her controlling him, maybe Harley was right not to like Olympians, they’d been nothing but cruel to Steve too. “I won’t stand by and let her wage war, we have to make a move!”

“No,” Hades held his hand as she spoke softly, “that’s not how we do things here, we don’t fight unless we have to-“

“and we have -“

“No.” Her voice was stronger now as she turned to him and held his eye, “we are not her, we are not Olympians here, I’ll go to Thor, I’ll tell him what we know and he can choose how to punish her. If you want, you can stay here, live here, you can still do your duties from the Underworld. But we don’t fight.”

“You’re wrong,” he told her and the judges and Cassandra who were watching the interaction gasped, no one spoke back to the Queen of the Underworld. “I’m an Olympian…” Steve thought for a second, he looked back at Hades’ home that stood tall above the fields only a two minute walk away and he thought about the pile of food from Olympus that Peter brought for him because he couldn’t eat- “but not for long.”

He stormed towards the house with determination, it took a minute for them to figure out what he meant but when they did they were running after him shouting for him to stop what he was doing.

“What are you thinking?!” Sam yelled.

“Steve no!” Wanda called as he entered the house.

“Steve stop and think about this, you can’t go back on this decision!” Hades told him as he stood under the window in the throne room in front of the bowl of fruit, his hand grasped the pomegranate.

Peter had been bringing food from Olympus for Steve because if anyone who isn’t from the Underworld eats food from this daft place they’re stuck. They become locals with the souls, gods of Olympus become gods of the Underworld and heroes become soldiers of Hades. That’s what all the books said, that’s what Steve knew to be true. He knew his place, he felt strong here when Bucky felt weak, he is not the same. He is not just an Olympian, that may be where he is from but that does not mean it is who he is.

“None of you were worried I’d become weak here,” he pulled open the fruit in his hands and the juices slid down his palm, “because you knew that I was meant to be here.”

“Steve,” Hades took a step towards him, she feared what he was doing, this was rash, especially after the information he’d been told today.

“I’m not an Olympian.” He bit into the fruit, it was sour on his tongue but it was perfectly ripe and almost addictive. One bite though, that’s all he needed. When he swallowed, at first he didn’t feel anything. They watched carefully, Hades ran up to him, her hand gripped his back and she tore the fruit from his hands. Steve coughed once, twice, but that was it. He felt fine, different but only slightly and still very much the same.

But the daffodil will grow through the cracks of the grave.

Chapter Twelve: Let it Come to Fruition

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#release the hounds #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fanfic #im so sick of tags #steve rogers #marvel au #marvel fanfiction #greek myth au #steve rogers au

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antiloreolympus · 3 years

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12 Anti LO Asks

1. arent some of the copies of that lo book upwards of $40 dollars if not more? like bare minimum ive seen it at least $20 even for the paperback but it goes way up for the hardcovers (tho the second vol already had a pretty massive markdown by what i saw on amazon which was ... weird). wt readers flip out over paying a few cents for fast pass, why would they buy the same thing they already read for free for a much higher price thats not even formatted correctly and kept all the typos?

2. i swear LO is making me into a pearl clutching nun. I get its trying to be ~pro sexuality~ or whatever but its so hamfisted in trying to do so and everyone and everything is so horny for??? reasons?? like no one talks or acts like this.

3. the way rachel "designs" characters deadass looks like how NFTs work. she just uses the same template and changes one or two things and calls its unique.

4. Does anyone know a comic where Persephone ACTUALLY chooses to go to the Underworld? Because LO and Ficlets still has her be kidnapped and Punderworld has it just be an accident she ended up there.

5. i think whats annoying me too about all these flashbacks is that im not sure whats actually true?? which i think is maybe the point but even when we see it from h or p's POV it comes across as the worst option? like helios' version actually made persephone look better than reality, hermes' flashback gave her personality and set their relationship better, meanwhile we get it from hxp and hades is just a neglectful ass to a literal child meanwhile persephone just looks like an idiot? like?? 💀

6. The biggest thing to me is these ancient stories don't belong to us, and modern "retellings" are not the "natural progression" of mythology, it's just people taking known stories and more often than not just making fanfic with the creator's biases. LO is allowed to exist, but Rachel is not "keeping the mythology alive" or "adding to the canon" as her fans claim. LO doesn't even fit a loose retelling, and it is not nor will ever be as legitimate as the actual texts. Sorry to be harsh but 🤷🏿

7. The way my skin crawled at the Niobe part… that’s so dumb if RS wants to portray Artemis as good and Apollo as bad why would you choose that myth like 😭 “hey Artemis only killed 6 instead of 7 like her awful brother” how does that even make sense??? Also ofc cutting so much of the original myth like-

From OP: Yeah, it doesn’t even make sense because we hear Leto is a sun goddess in LO but not the goddess of motherhood.

8. i dont get why all of a sudden now persephone wants to be queen? off of what? first its set up on she had goals to get her degree and have freedom, but now she just wants to be his wife? why? second, even her idea of making elysium is just her trying to relive her own guilt, not that she actually cares about the dead. her motives are out of nowhere and purely selfish, which the latter would be fine if LO didnt set up one set of goals but drop them to be hades' wife instead with no reasoning.

9. i think the biggest issue with this trial plot line is one) so dragged out, who cares, but two: hades is both leading up and during this whole thing has been so cartoonishly awful that i dont even care if he points out something right. a broken clock is also right twice a day, but that doesnt mean it still isnt broken. not to mention its very easy to make him look "right" when rachel purposely makes everyone else so irrational/wrong that he looks correct in comparison. that isnt a win, actually.

-----FP Spoilers/Mention-----

10. FP SPOILERS// Hades basically tells Persephone that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger in reaction to learning about her sexual assault and that really rubs me the wrong way because that kind of trauma doesn't make a person stronger, it damages you and as you heal you become stronger in spite of what happened so idk that whole diamond pep talk just irked me idk if anyone else feels the same way

11. Fp) Helios (thought it was Hera at first lol) she gives you HOMEMADE birthday cards as a bribe each year how dare you report a homicide she committed... Of course now we will get to know the real story is completely different and Perse is an angel who allowed those poor mortals to duebabd Minthe co. are such a horrible people for lying. She can't do anything wrong. Also, seriously? Russell? Such a Greek sounding name again.

12. I shouldn't be as annoyed as I am that episode 184 was basically more pointless stalling, it's honestly just a trend at this point. Is it bad that I actually laughed when Helios told Persephone that her birthday cards ain't shit? The way she actually tried to guilt-trip him for reporting her murdering people by saying "bUt I mAdE you Birthday Cards!!11" and him njust not having that shit. Beautiful. Also, as much as I was never a fan of Smythe's demonizing of Apollo, I'm not sure I like the direction she seems to go in now, namely the implication that Apollo's predatory behavior is really all Leto's fault because she encouraged it. It's yet another female character Smythe villainized just so Persephone could be the most perfect woman of them all in contrast to all these manipulative harpys on Olympus.

#anti lo #anti lore olympus #lore olympus critical #lo critical

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op-peccatori · 5 years

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Anthesis | MLQC Victor

Fandom: Mr Love Queen’s Choice

Pairing: Hades!Victor/Persephone|Kore!Reader

Rating: 18+/Explicit

Word Count: 10k

Summary: Your ambition takes you down a path few would prefer to take, to the world where the dead go to rest. But in a place where you expect to find only darkness, you’re surprised to find so much more.

A/N: Better late than never? Happy (belated) Birthday, Victor! Ily. This was supposed to be up on his birthday but, well, I had zero motivation to write at the time lmao. Please keep in mind that this is mostly inspired from alternate versions of the Hades/Persephone tale, and not the original. These are pretty much my own versions of them.

(tags under the cut)

Warnings/Tags: explicit sexual content, virgin mc, vaginal sex, oral sex, a sad mix of formal and informal language, no abductions here folks, I’ll edit later just take this away from me

Violets and crocuses wiggle in delight and part as the grass, eager to cushion your stride, nearly presses up against your feet. Roughened bark meets smooth skin as your hands brace against it, the tree nearly twisting around you to shelter you as you peek around it; the leaves murmur to themselves, wondering what you're up to.

You shush the leaves and pat the tree into compliance with haste, lest they give your position away. Another glance at your target shows no change. You have to wonder—does he really not know you're spying, or are you just being ignored? Pushing the question aside, for now, you hurry along after him. Your patience and labour are rewarded when you follow him into a meadow, where his ride awaits him.

A gilded chariot, drawn by four of the most beautifully frightening beasts you have ever seen. Helios had been right; their tales don't do them justice. The same, however, can be said for their rider, who now greets them with gentle strokes upon their heads, the menacing horses whinnying and bowing their heads, competing for just a smidge more attention. The flowers stir with curiosity and terror, knowing these beings belong to another place, one where they would struggle to survive.

"Why have you come?"

It takes you a moment to realize he's addressing you. You've heard it a few times now, yet the deep baritone sends a thrill down your spine. He does not speak with the condescension you're subjected to so often, and neither does he attempt to seduce you into his bed. All he asks is a simple question, his back to you, his hand stilling where it was stroking.

"I wanted to see your chariot," you answer easily, stepping forward into the clearing so the moonlight can wash over you. His hair falls down his back in a river of ebony, his statuesque form clad in intricate armour of the darkest black so unlike the ones you see on the surface. He, in all his menacing glory, is so unlike anybody you’ve ever met.

"You've seen it." He still doesn't face you, and you're startled to realize you're clenching your fist, uncurling it and flexing it nervously. "Run along now, little goddess."

His words are harsh in their very nature and yet you brush them off, something about his tone striking you as odd. You step closer, and though he doesn't move, he stiffens further.

"I'm Kore." The warm breeze in the air greets you softly, rustling your hair affectionately as it passes. "But you can call me ___."

He says nothing, turning to step onto the chariot. He doesn't look at you, but you can see a side of his face now. It grates on you, how aloof he looks. How they avoid him. How every time you ask your mother to visit his domain, you're turned down.

"Goodbye, Hades!" you call after him, satisfaction squeezing your gut when, as his chariot descends into the chasm, he's startled into looking at you. For a long moment, it seems as if time has stopped. Eyes that seem opalescent at this distance, flecks of blue and violet in that grey grey storm locking with your own. You're overcome by the urge to follow, and you nearly do, were it not for the hyacinths twisting around your feet in their alarm.

The moment is broken as he disappears, the earth closing back in seamlessly in the aftermath of his departure. You can't quite look away, despite knowing it's unlikely he'll be back. It'll be a while before you see him again, as he rarely leaves his domain. You know you're young, younger in comparison to these older gods but the impatience you feel still catches you off guard. You don't know how much longer you can keep playing this long game, especially now that it seems like you're the only player on the board.

"___?" Distant voices call for you, prompting a deep sigh. Your mother is probably looking for you, and even as you turn to leave, you resist the urge to glance back until you're deep within the woods once more.

There is something you want. It's terrifying and it's exhilarating—it probably won't end well. But for the first time in your life, you want something badly enough to defy all odds and your mother. It's been slow to bloom, starting off as a sapling that has now spread its branches throughout your being, spreading sheer want in their wake. All you need is a plan. And so, it is with eyes shining with hope that you rush to your mother where she reads by a fountain, taking a seat next to her.

"Mother, may I invite Helios over? It's been some time since I saw him," you ask in the politest tone in your arsenal, batting your lashes and clasping your hands together. To nobody's surprise, she agrees.

"But you stay where I can reach you," she says sternly, cupping your cheek when you purse your lips. "We can't have anyone getting any ideas, hm?"

"Yes, mother."

Helios arrives in a golden chariot of his own, his ivory-winged horses gliding to a stop where you wait in the meadow. His windblown, flaxen hair tumbles over his shoulders, and the honest blue eyes and cheery grin are a welcome sight—beautiful, but one that doesn't quite shake you, doesn't possess you with the impulse to stumble after it.

You don't speak of it right away. Instead, you offer up sweet wine and weave flower crowns as he shares all the gossip in the realm; some are things Aphrodite really will kill him for one day. As always, one name is conspicuously missing from his lively tales of love and debauchery, and that's the one you finally bring up as you adjust the wreath over his head.

"Hades? He rarely leaves his realm, I don't think he's one to indulge himself that often. I don't know how he does it," he muses. Kiro, as you're allowed to call him, eyes you speculatively. This isn't the first time you've asked after the reticent god, and he knows you too well to think your inquiries are innocent in nature. "Oh, just tell me."

You look around the clearing, ensuring that none of your mother's agents are around. The trees would tell you if they were, but years of dodging them have taught you better.

"I want to visit the Underworld," you confess, unable to help the smile that steals over your mouth when his mouth drops open. This is the first time you've said it aloud, and doing so only cements the desire further. Kiro groans, half despair and half lament, rubbing a hand over his face.

"I regret this visit already."

"I know you know how to do it." You cross your arms over your chest, your chin jutting out in a way that makes him sigh.

"There's a reason why nobody goes there, you know."

"It isn't forbidden."

"Your mother will destroy us both." She will, but with any hope, you'll be far away when she figures it out.

"Kiro, please?"

"Argh, fine! There's only one way for the living to pass through safely; you'll need a gift for the ferryman."

You pester him until he tells you what might be suitable, until you're certain you have just the thing in mind, flopping onto your back once you know everything you need to. You study the vast expanse of the sky, awash in strokes of pinks and orange, wondering if you'll get to see it once your plan is in motion.

"He really caught your eye, didn't he?" Kiro muses as he lays down beside you. "Demeter will throw a fit."

"Hm. Something like that. And mother can throw all the fits she wants to. This is a decision I've made for myself."

"Have you ever even spoken to him?" You can't quite bring yourself to look at him, giving it away and his next words are incredulous. "You haven't! That's why you aren't going through the usual channels! I thought it was just because of Demeter—"

"It is!" you insist, still refusing to meet his eyes.

"But you don't want H-Him to know either."

"...not right away, no," you mumble, continuing before he can panic. "Only because he wouldn't agree to let me visit!"

Kiro can't argue with that. "I don't know what you're thinking, just—don't irk him." That's just one of the many things you shouldn't, the first step of your operation being at the very top.

Slipping out of your mother's grasp isn't easy; her watchful gaze, as you murmur promises of being careful and wanting to visit forest nymphs, tells you she knows you aren't being entirely truthful. But you're aware that she will chalk it up to you playing your silly games.

Oh, you are. This is a game you want to win. The stakes are just higher this time.

Helios agrees to fly you down to the ocean, flying you across it as if he's afraid Demeter is right behind you. It feels surreal as you finally stand at the entrance to the cavern, your form shrouded by a cloak of thick velvet with the hood drawn up. You hesitate, for just a moment. You might be sent back right away. Or, if you are successful, there will be no going back from this.

As you close your eyes, memories of your mother pass through your mind. The good and the bad, the dreaded and the cherished. It transitions into a vivid memory of a battle you hadn't witnessed in person, but one that you had watched while you had been hidden away in one of your temples, a shallow pool of water reflecting the bloody battlefield so far away.

It hadn't been the first time you had seen him, but it had stayed with you until the next time you saw him leaving Olympus. You had seen him obliterate the thieves attempting to steal away the souls in his custody with nary a blink, the cold fury in his eyes belying his smooth countenance. You had been thoughtful as you watched his chariot ascend from the gape of the earth, watched him greet the sable-black horses with a muted affection at complete odds with the ruthlessness he had displayed just minutes prior.

In that conflicting visage, you saw an opportunity.

And so, you step through the threshold, your golden gift in hand.

You weren't expecting it to be a pleasant journey, but the wailing and complaining souls you walk in line with are still unnerving. The silent ones even more so. They look human, just a little more opaque, almost glowing in the gloomy caves. They don't seem to realize you walk with them, which is admittedly a relief. You feel uneasy at the lack of life here, and not for the first time during your walk, you wonder if you can really do this.

There will be steep consequences, the world will change, you will change. You walk, and walk, and walk, and just as you begin to feel the frustration, you see it: the long stretch of water beyond the white sand you step onto, aglow with wisps of green light swimming beneath the surface. And on the boat that glides along the surface, coming to a halt as it reaches the shore, stands the ferryman. You have to wait as the ones ahead of you climb onto the boat before you're face to face with him. Not an inch of him is visible, the cloak doing an excellent job to conceal whatever hides behind it. Still, you can feel him peer down at you.

You brace yourself before slipping the hood back, inclining your head as you greet him. "Charon, I presume?"

"You...are not supposed to be here." His voice seems to echo through the cavern, soft yet scattered as if it comes from all around you.

"No, I'm not," you concede, before offering up the golden branch you had fashioned with painstaking care. "I did bring a gift."

You can feel him studying you as if you are the strangest passenger he's come across before he holds out his hand for the bough. "I'll accept it. Welcome aboard, young goddess."

"I didn't think you would let me pass so easily." You climb onto the boat, taking the seat right behind Charon.

"As long as you do not cause trouble, young goddess, I don't see why I should not."

The boat starts to move, needing no rowers, leaving behind the souls who will have to wait their turn. You're so preoccupied with examining the luminous water that it takes you a moment to realize Charon is looking at you.

"Are you?" You blink. "Are you here to cause trouble?"

"I'm not here to cause trouble," you answer, your slight smile giving you away.

"And yet, I do not think He will see it that way." He seems amused despite his words, and you're distracted from answering as you exit the cave, your gaze captured by the scenery.

The air isn't stale. There are no skulls lining the shores. The river isn't filled with the blood of the dead, instead, it seems to be so pure it's glowing. You wonder why people are so fond of spreading false accounts of their experiences in the underworld. The sky, as you observe when you tilt your head back, is a blend of greys and purples with no sign of sunlight. You refrain from squirming in discomfort—you'll just have to get used to it, trade your bright skies for vaguely ominous ones.

The shores on either side of the river are barren of anything but sand, and on one side you see a wall of obsidian rock that stretches along the shore as far as the eye can see.

"How do I get to Hades' palace?" you ask in slight dismay, not fond of the thought of getting lost in this strange new realm.

"The boat will stop at the entrance to the realm," he murmurs. "From there, someone will come to get you."

"Who?"

"Someone from the palace, I suppose." He doesn't seem to be inclined to give you more answers, and you ease away with a quiet sigh, knowing he's done more than enough.

True to his word, Charon's boat stops in front of what looks to be the only entrance to the realm. There are two enormous gates on either side of the opening in the wall, also carved with obsidian, unembellished but for the symbols etched into the surface. A closer look shows them to be sceptres, the symbol of the ruler of this realm.

You look back at Charon with a faint smile. "Thank you."

"You need not thank me for doing my duty, young goddess." As the boat starts back down the river, his echoing laugh sends a frisson of unease through you. "I wish you luck."

The 'you'll need it' goes unsaid but you hear it clearly enough. Well, you will need luck when the god finds out you're here, but hopefully, it'll be a while before that happens.

A few steps towards the gates let you know you will need luck for a lot more.

There is no sense of alarm from the souls who continue to pass through the gates as if they don't feel the way the air grows heavy. You feel the hot, panting breath at the back of your head first, followed by a low growl. Every inch of your being tenses in place and the first thought in your head is-

'I don't have power here.'

You turn around on wobbly legs, biting back a whimper when you see him. A massive beast you had only heard rumours of, rumours you really should have given more thought because now there are three heads growling at you.

"Oh, h-hello," you croak out. The heads tilt in unsettling unison, sniffing at you in confusion. "You must be Cerberus."

He's nearly as big as the towering gates, with a glossy black coat and eyes that possess a red sheen. One of the heads, the one on the right, whines low in his throat and is immediately snapped at by the one on the left. Their teeth look to be nearly as big as your forearm, and you curse yourself for not bringing extra gifts. You hadn't thought to prepare too much for the trip, as you aren't a demigod on a quest.

If you want to stay in this place, it would be wise to forge friendships with its residents.

"I'm Kore," you offer when they continue to stare at you as if unable to figure out what to make of you. And then, the head on the right seems to win out as he darts forward, butting your shoulder gently as your shriek dies in your throat. You can tell he had tried to be gentle, and still, it sends you sprawling on the sand.

You all stare at each other in surprise. The startled looks on their faces drain them of any menace they had previously displayed; it makes you clutch your abdomen as you burst out laughing. The headbutting head whines slightly, taking a hesitant step forward, sniffing frantically as if to make sure you're in one piece.

The hand you place on his snout is gentle, your touch soothing as you coo at him, reassuring the oddly concerned looking dog. You're still giggling as the heads tilt in confusion, still unsure, and nearly miss the sound of horses whinnying from a distance. Nearly, for it's impossible to miss the thundering of hooves as they reach the ground, and your heart rattles in its cage as Cerberus sits back on his haunches, his tail curling and wagging with delight.

And why shouldn't it, when his master has come to greet them?

"Well, I'm glad to see you're enjoying yourself." The icy words reach you before you've mustered the courage to look back at the chariot and its terrifying rider. Your fingers dig into the sand as you scramble to get ahold of the fortitude that had brought you here.

"Oh," is all you can say when you do turn around, for you're not expecting the casual attire. The armour is nowhere in sight, his body clad in flowing robes of red and gold, a sash tying them in place. His hair is free from its usual half-updo, flowing freely over his shoulders and back.

You can't quite bring yourself to say another word, let alone give him the explanation you know he's waiting for. He raises a brow at you before scoffing, jumping off the small platform and striding towards you. Cerberus intercepts him before he can reach you, bounding forward to greet him with low whines escaping all three heads. He doesn't let Hades pass until every head has received an acceptable amount of head pats, giving you a moment to collect yourself.

"Someone will come to get you," you repeat in a low mutter, fists clenching. "Charon, you evil, evil being."

"What was that?" A shadow falls over you, and you squint up at the god standing over you. Without the armour, however, he doesn't look as threatening as usual, though you won't be the one one to tell him that. You smile up at him brightly.

"Nothing! Hello. Thank you for coming to get me," you say as if you hadn't sneaked into the realm and broken a few different rules. He squeezes his eyes shut for a few seconds, before exhaling forcefully and holding his hand out. You can't deny the tremble in your chest when you take it, his hand pleasantly warm to the touch as he pulls you up.

"Come, little goddess." Your fingers tighten around his hand and he drops yours as if it were dripping with the venom of a Hydra, turning on his heel and stalking back to his chariot, clearly expecting you to follow.

You do so quietly, waving at the horses as they eye you, flexing your hand in an attempt to suppress the strange tingling. It doesn't work, and you try not to sigh as you climb onto the chariot next to him. You're here on a mission, and the warmth spreading over your cheeks is not helping in any way.

You're further embarrassed by the startled yelp that escapes you when the chariot takes off without warning, but it's forgotten when you feel a hand settle over the top of your head, pulling you closer to the body it's attached to until you're close enough to feel it's warmth. His warmth.

"Try not to fall off," he chides, before seeming to realize that his hand is still on your head and pulling it away to rest it on the railing. The air whipping through your hair feels blessedly cool on your heated skin, and you focus on looking around instead. You pass by what looks to be a pavilion, wondering if it is what you think it is but not having the courage to ask when he's clearly irritated. All you can do is sneak glances. His hair whips around him, brushing against yours and you avert your eyes as he turns to glance at you in question.

Any excuse you might have come up with fades away when his palace looms into view. Sitting upon an island in the middle of a lake, the walls of obsidian stone matching the wall seem to give off their own strange glow. A cobblestone bridge connects the island to the rest of the land, a spiked portcullis standing in the way of whoever dares to visit. The four towers to each corner stand proud and high enough that you worry about running into them.

The chariot circles the tower closest to you, flying lower with each lap until you arrive in a courtyard, stopping before the stables. A nervous-looking man in golden robes seems to have been waiting there, bowing as you both climb out of the chariot.

"My Lord." He looks at you almost suspiciously. "Lady Kore."

"Hello." Hades steps into your path before you can continue. Why is it that you're unable to finish your sentences around this man?

"I will open the entrance to the surface, I think you've had enough adventures for this decade."

Your what echoes, confusing you until you realise it had come from the other man.

"I did not come here to just leave," you argue hotly, squaring your shoulders when he glowers down at you. "This is not some silly adventure."

"Oh? What would you call it?"

"I came here to ask you a few questions." And a few other things, but he doesn't need to know that just yet. "Surely you can grant me that much." You cross your arms, refusing to break eye contact until he grunts and looks at the...attendant?

"Prepare the guest wing for the lady." He turns back to you just as you open your mouth. "I have things to attend to, so I'm afraid your questions will have to wait. I assume you know the rule?"

"The rule?" you repeat, trading glances with the other man, who nods in encouragement. "Yes?" You don't have a clue.

He seems aware of that, leaning in until his hair falls forward in a silken curtain and your entire view is filled with thick lashes and stormy eyes.

"Don't..." You're aware that you're staring at his mouth, but seem to have lost control over where your eyes stray. "...eat anything. Unless you want to be stuck here forever."

"O-oh." You feel uncomfortably warm again, unable to meet the wicked glint of his eyes when he pulls back. "Yes, I knew that!"

"Wonderful. We shouldn't have any problems then. Enjoy your stay, little goddess," he calls over his shoulder as he begins to walk away. "It'll be a short one."

And then there were two—left staring after the man who disappears behind a corner.

The attendant turns to you. "I'll show you to the guest wing, My Lady."

"Thank you..."

"Oh! My apologies," he leads you to what looks like a side entrance to the building. "You may call me Goldman."

"Thank you, Goldman," you say warmly.

As you step through the door, it begins to sink in. You're really here. You're doing this. How successfully, that has yet to be seen. But you have hope.

"Please don't mention this to My Lord but," he leans in almost conspiratorially, his hair seeming to fluff up in his cheer. " I'm personally very glad to see you here."

"You are?" It certainly hadn't seemed that way earlier.

"Yes, My Lord rarely gets visits from the Others. And if you're here for the reason I think you are," he grins at you. "Then I'm doubly glad!"

You both come to a halt, just before stepping through the archway that leads to a long flight of stairs. The interior of the building is vastly different from its outward appearance, with its marble floors and gilded walls.

"How could you possibly know what I'm here for?"

"My Lady, I make it my business to know as much as I can about My Lord's everyday affairs," he gestures for you to continue. "You must know. All of us here—we're rooting for you!"

Oh.

"Yes, well," you laugh nervously, guilt trickling through your insides. "Thank you. I'll...I shall try my best."

The guest wing you're taken to looks completely out of place for something built in Hades' realm. The bedroom itself looks like one you would have designed yourself, with its sheer white curtains and plush rugs. Set in the middle of the room, the bed itself is orbicular with a sheer curtain enclosing it almost completely, with a parting in the middle to allow easy access. The walls here are white marble with speckles of gold, with a massive armoire resting against the one in the back of the room.

Behind the bed is a shallow pool with steps built into the sides, but what surprises you the most is the tree that seems to be curling in towards the room through the balcony that has no doors, just wide arches. There is limited flora in this realm and you had already made your peace with it, but as you press your hand against the oddly smooth bark of the tree and feel it vibrate with delight, something tense unwinds in your chest.

"I'll let Him know you like it," Goldman calls from where he stands at the threshold, hands clasped in front of him.

"It's lovely." You take a quick peek out the balcony, which shows you a lovely view of the glowing lake.

"Yes, well," he hesitates, shaking his head. "Ah, I shouldn't...I'll send someone in to attend to you."

He hurries away before you can press for answers, leaving you to climb into bed with a huff. Your cloak is unfastened and thrown to the side, freeing your unruly tresses and limbs. Resting on your stomach, you feel silly as the loneliness creeps in. You miss your mother and the Naiads; you had, all your life up till now, been surrounded by the Nymphs' giggles and it pains you to think that you might never hear it again.

But your melancholy is weak when faced with your ambition. If things go your way, this will be your new home and it is with that thought in mind that your eyes flutter shut as sleep crawls over you.

A glance at the mirror shows you, clad in a forest green dress that wraps around your body, and your hair braided back with golden twine. You leave your room with your attendants' instructions, heading straight for the throne room where Hades should be. They're pleasant enough creatures, but your heart still aches with longing. Kiki and Willow must be worried out of their minds; you had told no one of your plans, with only Helios aware of your whereabouts.

Your path takes you along another winding bridge, chandeliers with softly glowing orbs lining the ceiling and the familiar green wisps darting beneath the lake. The sky above seems almost agitated, clouds of grey and violet swirling around each other restlessly.

Strange though it may be, the Underworld is beautiful in its own way. How could it not be, when its ruler is the same?

He stands there now, peering down into the lake as if it holds answers to any questions he may have. You know the moment he registers your presence, his shoulders turning as if to leave before he aborts the movement and faces you.

You should be afraid, you think, standing as you are across the bridge from one of the most feared gods in all the realms. And yet, your feet move on their own as if they can't help it, taking you to him. Your heart throbs with anticipation as you draw closer. He smells like smoke laced with magic, that drugs you with every breath you take, and you think you're a fool for being so relaxed in his presence.

And yet he's the one looking at you so warily, as if you're the one to fear?

"Hades," you greet him evenly, watching curiously as his eyes dart down to your flowing dress before meeting your gaze.

"Kore."

"I told you, you can call me ___," you mutter. "I was told you have no other matters to attend to at the moment?"

"Hm."

There’s no point in beating around the bush, it would only give him more chances to escape.

"Lovely. So," you clasp your hands behind you, tilting your head to the side. You feel your hardened resolve waver when he only watches you carefully. "Why did you reject me?"

He seems to be at a loss for words, so you continue.

"You thought I didn't know," you state, stepping closer to him. It annoys you that you have to look up at him, but a deeper part of you enjoys it, more so when he begins to look wary. "Oh, I know. About your proposal. Zeus agreed—and then you turned it down. Why?"

He stares at you. "You came to ask me this?"

"I did."

"Wh-why?" He seems genuinely baffled, blinking when you narrow your eyes at him. "It doesn't matter-"

"Of course it matters!" you snap. He steps back as you step forward, and it continues step for step until his back is pressed to the wall beside the arch. It feels a bit silly, but you reach your hand out to rest it on the wall just over his shoulder, to make sure he can't slip away. "Am I that undesirable in your eyes?"

The words burn in your chest but oddly enough, he seems to relax at that, his mouth twitching into a tiny smile. You're quite offended by how pretty it makes him look. "Kore, that's not the case at all. You're beautiful-"

"Do not patronize me."

"I'm not-"

"I could not care less how beautiful you think I am." You stand, face to face, and you know your face is flushed with the force of your anger in that deeply unattractive way your mother hates. "All I want to know is why you changed your mind after approaching Zeus yourself."

"It...does not matter," he finally says after a long moment spent blinking rapidly in the face of your frustration.

"I just told you it does," you growl, and you're unsure what he sees in your face, but it makes him twitch.

"You...aren't fit for the role. I think I hear Thanatos calling for me..."

He slips from your grasp easily, feeble as it is all of a sudden. His words echo within your thoughts, a numbness spreading through you as you try to gather yourself.

Not fit to—what, be queen? Be his wife?

You sigh, a faint ache in your jaw from how hard you had been grinding your teeth, and rest your hands on the railing. Are you supposed to go home now?

'No.'

After all, Hades was very clear in declaring you unfit to be his wife. There's nothing more to do. You got your answers.

'It's not enough.'

"Answers aren't all I want, after all," you murmur, reaching out a hand, smiling as a glowing orb floated up from the water to flutter around your palm. "I'll just have to show him."

Hades wouldn't have spent all those months watching you in the meadow if he thought you to be so unsuitable. He wouldn't have kicked up such a fuss after catching wind of Ares' proposal, although he would be pissed if he found out Zeus had told you about that too. No, you won't let him escape so easily.

You came here to be Queen, and it wouldn't do to let the King slip from your fingers with a few thoughtless words, would it?

Your resolve remains strong, and you have another plan. Now if only he would stop avoiding you.

If nothing else, you can at least say that you can have the almighty ruler of the Underworld running in the other direction with just a word, as he's been doing for a few days. It had been exceedingly amusing at first, watching him try to make it look as if he isn't running from you, but now your frustration mounts. Yesterday, you had followed him to the courtyard only for him to quite literally melt into the shadows. It's infuriating and you're done with this chase.

Now, you lurk in the shadows of his throne room, watching him attend to his duties. He's a stern one, this god you're trying to lockdown. Not one to be swayed easily. You're content to wait, determination tight in your throat, as you watch the last of the Judges leave.

Hades leans back in his throne of ebony, his shoulders relaxing from their stiff posture. You move when his eyes slide shut, creeping towards him and drawing Goldman's surprised gaze to you.

You hold up a finger to your lips, indicating for him to keep quiet until you reach the bottom of the steps leading up to the throne. Goldman hesitates before nodding, hurrying down the steps and ushering the two armoured guards at the doors from the room.

Hades, who now watches you from his throne, says nothing as you come to a halt before him, close enough to touch.

He does nothing as you step closer, between his spread knees to take a seat on one of them. His hands, resting on the arms of the throne, clench around the metal.

"Not running away this time?"

"You would just hunt me down again," he mutters, still watching you as you lean closer. "One could think you're Artemis in disguise."

"Invoking another goddess' name while I sit on your lap? You're quite shameless."

"And you're astonishingly persistent."

"I can be when it comes to what’s mine," you counter coolly, fighting a smirk when you catch the slight flush spreading high on his cheeks.

"You go too far, Kore." The slight tremble in his tone belies his harsh words. He's not wrong, but he also hasn't pushed you off his lap yet.

"You've left me no choice, Hades." You lean in, smiling faintly. He turns his head away, but two fingers under his chin tilt it back towards you. For a moment, you say nothing. You can't because his mask is slipping, it's apparent in the agitation in his eyes and the skies beyond the windows. "They say you're elusive, but there's only so much a girl can take."

The tip of your nose brushes his and it has you swallowing, has his lips parting, the feel of your breath mingling with his dizzying and terrifying.

"I'll be good to you. Let me show you," you whisper, pressing your lips to his cheek. A shuddering, almost pained breath leaves him.

"You don't know what you're doing." It's a rumble in his chest, a half-hearted attempt to warn you but you've come too far to quit now. Your lips carve a soft path to his ear, kissing the lobe lightly.

"Tell me you don't want me," you murmur, tracing the shell of his ear with your tongue.

He says nothing, but it's clear in the way his muscles strain, in his eyes that speak of yearning and desire.

Just one move and you'll have him.

But he's temptation given form, and you're shaken by how violently your heart thunders in your chest. This will change the game, for better or for worse, you know it in your bones. If you give yourself to him, he will never let you go. Your tongue sweeps across your full lips, his eyes focusing on it and for the shortest of seconds, your lips meet the corner of his mouth. And then you dart away—or at least you try to, were it not for the hand sliding into your hair and bringing you back to him. Your breath stutters at the fierce look in his eyes, at the sudden unyielding grip he has on your hair and your heart.

"You should finish what games you start, little goddess." His voice is somehow fuller, his eyes dancing with sheer want and it scares you how much you want it but—it's that word, the 'little' that sparks your stubborn desire and has your eyes sliding shut as you press your mouth to his. For a moment, there's a buzzing sound in the back of your head and then, it feels like you've been struck by lightning. As if you've jumped into the deepest fires of Tartarus, and somewhere in the back of your thoughts, you realize you're in trouble.

But then he tilts his head and moves his lips and you have nothing to spare for anyone or anything except for him. A moan comes to life and dies within your throat when his other arm wraps around your waist to pull you closer. The next is stolen by him when you're pressed into him, melting into the chiselled planes of his torso.

You can't think.

His hands rove over your body, drawing you closer until your parted knees rest on the throne, on either side of his hips. You're not sure how long you sit there, kissing deeper and deeper and wanting more. Your heart feels full and you can't believe you finally have this, have him and then his hips press up into yours. A hot jolt in your belly has desire dripping through you as you feel him, firm against your centre, and then you realise your dress has ridden up almost to your waist.

'Oh.'

You're both dazed as you pull away, unable to form a thought let alone words. But this feeling, this contentment, you don't want to give it up. His flushed ears, his warm breath, his burning gaze. You want to capture it all and hoard it forever. The flashing skies break you out of the moment.

"I think we both have things to think through," you half-slur, flushing in embarrassment as you clamber off his lap, righting the hem of your dress. You nearly give in when he reaches for you, the lost look on his face tugging at your heartstrings but you force yourself to turn away and sprint down the stairs.

This was the plan. Leave him wanting more, and he'll come after you. But this desire you feel, this need to go back, to curl around him and spent an eternity there—this wasn't part of the plan.

'But this is a good thing.'

It could be. You came here to be more. Because you had deemed Hades to be the perfect one to marry, to escape your mundane life and reach for more than you were given, more than you were expected to be. Here, you could spread your wings.

But you hadn't expected to feel this deeply.

When did it even begin, you wonder? Was it when you first saw him in battle? Had it all already been set in motion when you had so very conveniently positioned yourself close to his preferred spot of opening a portal to his realm? When you had heard the first whispers of him watching you plucking flowers?

You had been content to let him observe you, listening to the trees giggle at his attempt at stealth. You had no idea what was so interesting about watching you frolic about the meadow, giggling with the Naiads, but it had worked to your advantage. That had been clear when Zeus spoke to you of his interest.

But then he withdrew the offer, snatched away your chance and you were forced to take matters into your own hands.

You reach your room with haste, rushing to your balcony to collapse beside the railing closest to the tree, clutching your chest. The branches above shiver and reach down to you. Your heart longs powerfully, it aches with it, and it's so sweet it's foolish. You're a fool. All the other gods and mortals, they're all fools.

Hiding away in the Underworld is, not only the deadliest but perhaps the fairest god of them all.

This time, you're the one avoiding him.

It grates at you, this cowardice, but your heart flutters at just the thought of facing him and it makes you nervous. You're emotionally compromised. You want him, more than you've ever wanted anyone.

It's when the palace is still, when the skies are darker, that you sneak out to the stables. His chariot rests in the back, but you're distracted by the scarlet eyes watching you from different stalls. They're quiet when you come closer, reaching into the one on right, stroking its soft forehead gently as he neighs.

"Nyctaeus is more tolerant than the others." You nearly jump in fright as He materializes from the shadows, smiling slightly as the steed, who you now know to be Nyctaeus, neighs softly.

His hand joins yours in stroking his head and you wish he would do that to you too.

'I wonder if Cerebrus would consent to eat me?'

"They're good companions, especially when you can't sleep. Alastor," he points at the one on the far left, "can be quite chatty. Orphnaeus is a bit more reserved. Aethon...he may kick you if you try to make conversation."

This might be the longest you've heard him talk in one conversation. You glance at him; he's dressed in a robe similar to yours, muted red where yours is olive green. His hair seems a bit dishevelled, as if he had run a hand through it one too many times.

"I would love to get to know them better," you smile when Nyctaeus butts his muzzle into your palm. You watch from the corner of your eye as Hades pauses, then hesitates.

"Kore." You turn to face him and he offers you his arm. "Walk with me?"

You walk for some time before the silence is broken, coming up to the bridge where you had cornered him and he'd run from you for the first time. The chandeliers are inactive, the lake providing enough light as it isn't quite dark here.

"The other day..."

"I regret nothing," you cut in before he can take that route. He huffs out a low laugh, pulling you to where it's brightest.

"No, I suppose you don't." The green light from the lake reflects onto his features, illuminating them with an eerie glow. "And neither do I."

'Perfect,' you think, but there is only anticipation where there should be more triumph.

"So..." He sighs, and something within you squeezes painfully.

"Kore," he begins, tugging you closer when you turn away. "I didn't withdraw the proposal because I don't desire you. If it isn't clear already, it's very much the opposite."

You look up at him as he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, smiling ruefully. "But?"

"But I think you would be wasted here. Spring has no place in this realm of mine." There is a flicker of something in his eyes as he says those words. It hurts him, and hurts you too. And more than that, it offends you.

"Don't you think that should be my decision?" Your breath grows heavy, anger and longing warring within you at how sad he looks in the dim glow.

"I think you deserve better," he argues, rather weakly in your opinion. He looks pitiful, the look out of place on this dark king and you hate it. He looks pained yet he can't seem to look away from you, and you can't turn your eyes away now that you've seen him. You've had a glimpse of his heart and you want it.

You simply kiss him.

You do feel triumph now—in how helplessly he kisses you back, in the low groan he lets out, and in how naturally his arms find their place around you.

"Hades," you begin, pulling away and bracing a hand against his chest when he follows. "I know I made it seem that away, but I don't actually have time."

"What do you mean?" The husky timbre of his voice makes you shiver.

"I mean, I have until my mother finds out I've run away and sends someone after me," you admit sheepishly. His eyes widen before squeezing shut.

"Demeter doesn't know you're here."

"She might now. But no, I didn't tell her anything." He glances around as if expecting your mother to come raging out of the lake.

"Kore..." he sighs.

"She would never have agreed!"

"Well, you clearly have a plan. What do you want to do?"

You shrug. "Marry you."

"Kore!"

"I'm serious. That was my plan."

"So am I. A wedding for those of our standing," he begins, pulling you into his arms. "It must take place before the Pantheon for it to be valid in their eyes."

"I don't care about what they think," you mumble into his chest, feeling it shake as he chuckles.

"I more than agree with that but," his lips brush your hair, "I would like for your mother and anyone else you love to be there."

You take a moment to think, before scraping the marriage plan—for now. Another idea sparks, one that you'd considered and abandoned before kissing him that day.

"A lovely thought," you purr, standing up on the tips of your toes to brush your lips along his sculpted jawline. His fingers dig into the sides of your waist. "Then we need to leave them no other choice but to give us their blessings."

"And how do we go about that?"

Your tongue flicks against his lower lips and he opens his mouth instantly; you've kissed others before, but never has it been this addictive.

"First," your teeth graze his lip, "we go to my room."

His hands find the backs of your thighs, hoisting you up with ease. Your surroundings blur with his speed, as he sinks into the shadows that form a blanket around you. It's a second of complete darkness and then you're in your room.

Now that he isn't using it to escape you, it really does seem like a handy trick.

"And then?" He lets you slip off, watching with glittering eyes as you start walking back to where your bed is.

"And then," your nimble fingers find the knot of your dress, easing it open and unwrapping the cloth swiftly. "you make me yours."

You laugh loudly at how wide his eyes get before he's on you and you're on the bed. He kisses you desperately as if he's afraid you'll be torn from his grasp, and you pull him closer until the soft material of his robes meets your bare skin.

Rough fingertips slide down the gentle slope of your neck, reverent in their touch, brushing over a hardening nipple, sliding over your soft abdomen, dipping into the mess of curls below but not reaching for what lies beyond.

"You're so beautiful, ___." His lips are fervent on your skin. "Thank you."

You laugh helplessly, shifting into a moan when he takes a nipple into his mouth. "Thank you?"

Your back arches when he sucks, until he pulls back to smile down at you. The sight alone is enough to stun you, and the slight dimple in one cheek ensures further silence on your part.

"Yes," he leans in to kiss you but doesn't elaborate. You reach for the sash of his robes, tugging it off impatiently. You regret it the moment you succeed and the part of his robe allows you a closer look at what lies beneath. His torso looks as if it could have been sculpted by Hephaestus himself, and his cock—the sight of it flushed and erect has your mouth dry.

"Oh," you say, and your face could've been on fire with how hot it feels.

"You seem nervous, little goddess," he says lightly, but the darkening of his eyes displays his lethal desire. "With how boldly you climbed onto my lap that day, I almost thought you were going to have me right there."

"Ah, well," you avert your eyes, unable to escape his teasing gaze, "I actually...I've never..."

You miss the way his eyes soften at your trembling words, blinking when you feel his lips on your forehead.

"I know. They do call you the Maiden, after all."

At this, you glare at him. "Well, then, My Lord—I trust you to change that tonight."

He grins as if he thinks you adorable, prompting you to push him until you switch positions. You climb onto him with flushed cheeks, sliding your hands down his chest until they splay dangerously low on his abdomen. His smile is fainter, edged with a warning, his hair fanned out over the sheets. You simply smile as you wrap your hands around his cock, squeezing it curiously.

"K-Kore," he groans. "Please be careful with that." He helps you adjust your grip on the base of his shaft, guiding you to pump it slowly.

"I told you, call me ___," you insist, watching with fascination as the tip of his cock starts to glisten temptingly. "Everybody else calls me Kore."

"Right," he croaks, bucking his hips when you finally give in to the urge to lick at the slit of his cock. "By Tartarus. You wicked little thing. Ah, then, you m-may call me Victor."

"Victor?" you ask, tongue stilling where it was sliding along his length. He smirks down at you.

"I certainly feel like one." His ensuing chuckle is cut off when you take him into your mouth, trying to remember what the Naiads had mentioned about pleasuring your lovers. "D-don't push yourself."

You hollow your cheeks in response, taking him deeper until your mouth feels uncomfortably full. You begin to bob your head slowly, unsure until you hear him groan and begin moving more confidently.

It's when your tongue begins to slide in unison with your mouth and your hand inches towards his ballsack that you feel him tug at your hair, not easing his grip until you've let his cock slip out of your mouth with a whine. He curses again, sitting up and pulling you to him, tasting himself on your tongue. His robe slips off completely and you're quick to take advantage of it, stroking over his flexing muscles avidly.

You tense when you feel his warm palm on your inner thigh, as if your body is waiting for something but you don't know what, not until you feel him touch your sex. His fingers slide along your slit and you gasp into his mouth, fingers clenching around his shoulders as he touches you gently, stoking the flame you hadn't realised was there, preoccupied as you were with his bare skin.

"You're so wet for me," he murmurs, pleased. He slides a finger in, hissing when your walls squeeze him tight. "Oh, ___."

You've only ever indulged yourself a few times, mostly out of curiosity and restlessness, but here as you sit in the arms of the man you've claimed as yours, it feels completely different. His fingers are longer, thicker, and it seems so deliciously erotic; he swallows your moans, kisses your cheeks, whispers his encouragement as your hips begin to move, grinding into his hand. He makes you come on his fingers, holding you as you tremble and cling to him.

He lays you down, kissing your forehead, the lids of your eyes, your nose, your cheeks. He lingers on your lips before his mouth glides along your neck, stopping to suck softly on your breasts. His lips on your abdomen feel ticklish, making you giggle until you feel his breath on your quivering cunt. He parts your legs, and his ravenous gaze makes you throb harder.

"Vic-Victor-"

Any capacity to speak coherently is lost with the first lick along your slit, before his tongue pushes through and you're left writhing on the bed. He sucks and laps at you, his iron grip around your thighs thwarting your attempts at squirming away. His lips close around your nub and you keen, begging for respite or for more, you don't even know yourself.

He does pull away, crawling over to kiss your hair and murmur soothing praises as you kiss his jaw and widen your legs in a silent invitation. Ha-Victor looks at you when he brushes the head of his cock against you, not looking away even as he begins to push in. The air feels charged with magic, you feel it in little sparks against your skin. Your head falls to the mattress, eyes rolling back as he pulls back to slide in further with shallow thrusts, overwhelmed by how full it feels.

"You're going to be the death of me," he chokes out, feeling your walls fluttering around him. Locking eyes with him has been an intense experience every single time but now, with him throbbing within you, it feels almost painfully intimate.

"G-Good thing you won't be going anywhere," you manage to quip, smiling even as he draws you into a kiss and begins to thrust. He sets a smooth pace, allowing you to try and keep up as your hips begin to undulate. It's with measured thrusts and clever fingers that you come again, with fervid kisses on your skin that soften with every breath you take. He empties himself within you, murmuring incoherent praises into the side of your throat as he shakes.

He takes you into his arms, a hand caressing the length of your back, and a memory springs up; once, one of the visiting nymphs had claimed to have bedded Hades. She had scoffed and declared him to be a cold lover, that living in the Underworld for so long must've drained him of all passion. You had suspected it even then, but now you know she had been lying.

Your soft snickers draw his attention away from your shoulders, where he had been planting soft kisses.

"What is it?"

"Oh, nothing," you say breezily, rolling over to grin at him. "Just congratulating myself on a job well-done."

"As you should," he agrees. "But I don't see how this stops Demeter from taking you away."

You stare at him. He hasn't realized it, has he?"

"That was just for us." You sit up, opening your arms when he shifts to rest his head on your stomach. "Now...I'm hungry."

He freezes, nearly flinging himself back with how quickly he rises. "___."

"You can't tell me you hadn't considered it." You raise a brow at how his eyes fall with shame.

"I...did. It would've done the job. But at the time it would've been against your wishes," he admits, tucking your head under his chin as you wrap your arms around him.

"And now it won't be."

"___." He places his hands on your shoulders, looking at you gravely. "This will bind you to the Underworld. To me."

Your only response is to roll your eyes and kiss him.

The conversation derails very quickly from there and time blurs as you lose yourselves in each other. It's when you sit on the edge of the pool, leaning back on your arms with your legs spread wide as Victor fucks you with his tongue, that a strange ringing sound reaches your ears. Victor growls and continues until you're a mewling mess on unsteady limbs that he pulls into the water.

"Hermes is here," he informs you, his arms tight around as you both realize your time is up. You kiss him, hard and fast, pulling him up the steps before your common sense takes leave once more.

"We have to do it now," you insist, shaking your head when he opens his mouth. "I'm sure. I want you. I will have no one else as my husband."

He blushes, clearing his throat and nodding. "I feel the same. I...I want you as my wife. And my queen."

You stand there like a pair of fools, smiling at each other until there's another insistent ring. Victor holds his hand out, and you stare at it in confusion until a pomegranate appears from thin air.

"Right, we must consider your other duties as well," he mutters to himself, seemingly agonizing over it until he digs out six seeds.

“...Yes, we must.”

"Six seeds for six months?" he asks quietly.

"That should do it." A shame that you can't stay by his side, but you must think of your mother and the people too. You did consider just having someone replace you but it's not that easy, and it would be too selfish of you. "You can come to visit while I'm there."

"I will," he promises, holding up the first seed to your mouth. He feeds you each seed individually, waiting patiently as you chew. You look down at yourself and then around.

"I don't feel any changes." He laughs and laces his fingers through yours.

"I do. They'll have no choice but to let you come now," he whispers into your hair. "Hermes will probably take you to Olympus."

"I'll see you there, then." You can't help the mischievous smirk that curls along your mouth. "We do have a wedding to plan."

Victor groans and pushes you onto the bed.

It's with a cheerful grin and a skip in your step that you materialize out of the shadows to meet Hermes in the throne room. The Messenger looks confused by your enthusiastic greeting, which contrasts greatly with Victor's brooding pout.

"Hades. Kore. I believe you know why I'm here," he states, peering at you through his helmet when you just nod. "Kore, I'm to take you to Olympus. Your parents are waiting."

Hermes nearly chokes when you turn to Victor, waiting until he lowers his head so you can plant a noisy kiss on his cheek.

"I'll see you soon, darling."

"I'll be there,” he vows.

You take the hand offered by an incredulous Hermes, looking back at Victor as a golden ring surrounds you and your escort.

"___?"

Your heart aches already, your lip quivering at the miserable look in his eyes. There’s an awful feeling burning in your chest and you think you’re starting to understand all those songs about longing for your lover.

"Yes?" your voice cracks pitifully, and he cracks the softest smile at that, watching you leave him so tenderly it may just break you. All you want to do is hold him and tell him every silly thought you’ve ever had, to dig deeper and listen to anything he wants to tell you. You manage a wobbly smile for him.

"I love you."

Your eyes widen, heart skipping as you open your mouth—and then he vanishes from sight. You materialize in a secluded garden within Olympus, Hermes staring at you in shocked silence as you try to compose yourself. It feels as if you’ve left your heart behind, and you hadn’t known love could ever be so bittersweet.

"Well, now I almost want to take you back," he mutters as your eyes begin to burn. "Come, your parents await you. I suspect you have a lot to tell them."

Hermes is right. The sooner you inform them of your decision, the sooner you'll see Victor again. You've fallen in love with the King of the Underworld, with all his jagged edges and dimpled smiles—and there is no force in all of the realms that will stop you from making him yours.

#mlqc #mlqc victor #mlqc fanfic #mlqc smut #mr love queen's choice #mr love: queen's choice #mr love li zeyan #mlqc li zeyan #mlqc victor x reader #mr love victor

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