#sO the pomegranate with asphodel flowers

[stressedanime]

tattoos to honor nico “ghost king” di angelo, my beloved (and the underworld in general <3)

picture of their placements under the cut!!!

[vagabond-umlaut]

hey, where is the pomegranate tree?

unstoppable force, aka kore, aka gojo, meets immovable object, aka hades, aka you— nothing can ever go wrong from this collision, trust me— n-o-t-h-i-n-g.

▸ gojo satoru x fem!reader; hades and persephone retelling [with a twist ;))]; 1.2k wc; stubbornly persuasive gojo; the reader is js so tired and annoyed [and tired]; enemies to lovers vibes[??]; talks of marriage and children; gojo thinks you are a fool, he is the real clown here

▸ pls don't glare at me if there is more than one inaccuracy here, haha. anyways, the header is from pinterest, the divider is by @benkeibear and the characters used ain't mine. pls don't plagiarize, translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️

▸ update: this fic is now part of a series!!! wreaths of asphodel 😊😊

"you shall spend the rest of your days in tears."

you're foolish; woefully so, gojo thinks, carefully observing you from his place on the chaise lounge, smiling while you continue seething, "and there will be no one who can save you. neither a hero nor a god. neither demeter nor zeus. no. one."

"but why do you think i will need saving, my rose?" the endearment rolls off his tongue like honey, the taste sweetening at the way your pretty lips dip into a deeper frown, "you're not a monster, are you?"

"no!" the defensive reply comes in less than a beat. though the words following it sound a tad less bold; it seems as if you're trying to make yourself believe and not scare him.

"i'm someone far fiercer— hades. the goddess of the dead. the queen of the underworld— and the cause for your misery should you choose to vex me any further."

"aw, no," gojo cries, decidedly making a show by slapping a hand over his eyes and faking a sniffle, "why must the only woman i want as my wife see me as an annoyance?"

then lets his hand drop down to the cushion, willing his eyes to well over with pitiful moisture. "as the god of life, i've only ever given and given– be it grains or fruits or vegetables or flowers– without asking anything in return— yet the first and only time i ask..."

he doesn't bother finishing his sentence, choosing to sob to add to the tragic atmosphere— though that doesn't mean he doesn't note the war of emotions on your face:

pity, confusion, anger, again confusion— you're so easy to read, to steer. very foolish, really.

"you'll not like living here," you eventually break the silence hanging within the room. your voice is much softer now; the god wonders if you sing. if you do, the muses will certainly be put to shame... "your days will be spent in utter boredom and gloom and tears–"

"– and no one can come to my aid then: yes, thank you," he interrupts you, more than a little tired, "you've driven the points too well into my head– so much so that i'm surprised there isn't a gaping hole in there, oozing blood and my brains. but why must you think i'll need rescue, huh??"

if a smidge of force escapes into his words, gojo decides not to pay it any mind— though only until he notices the small flinch you give– his insides twist and torment, quite inexplicably, thereafter.

"okay, look," he says, getting up from his slouch to move near you, but stops on catching the warning glint in your eyes.

"first of all, i'm not some damsel in distress being whisked away in a chariot here– i came here by own volition. and i'm offering my mind, body, heart, soul– the special package that i am, in fewer words– to you, by my own volition. why shall i want anyone to rescue me then?"

"besides," he proceeds to add, allowing an easy smirk to form on his face, "you're just the cute little goddess of the dead– not at all scary like your brother used to be; though i guess you try to imitate him in your glares, don't you? sukuna was quite notori—"

"don't you dare utter my brother's name, foul olympian," a quiet growl slashes gojo's comment, sending it plummetting to the ground— and making him understand why you, the inconspicuous, sheltered sister of the vicious former holder of the name 'hades', was given the crown, in the aftermath of your brother's banishment– instead of the several more well-known candidates...

"i apologise," gojo offers in the very next instant, making it as genuine as he can, "i never meant to upset or offend you. i'm sorry if i did."

you just stare at him for a beat, gojo watches, before your shoulders lift then fall in a sigh. the fire burning in your aura abates by a pinch.

sighing once more, you finally break your silence, "It's okay, and um– suppose i too should apologise. you might be an olympian but you're not as foul as them, no. please forgive me for calling you so."

"no problem, my rose," the god is quick to accept your words with a wave of his hand and a beam, further widening when he notices the sliver of smile on your countenance, "but does this mean i appeal to your tastes? i mean, you called me 'not as foul as them', didn't you?? did you just accept my hand in marriage, then???"

"no, i didn't..." your subtle smile disappears swifter than it appeared. a half of gojo's floral crown, quite inexplicably, wilts on the table before. he watches your eyes fall to it, then snap up to meet his.

"do you love me?"

not yet, but he thinks he can. you might be an idiot but you certainly aren't an unlovable idiot— and one voice in his mind murmurs, those precious, innocent looks of yours aren't even the main reasons why...

the god shoots back a languid smile. "if you want to see me in love with you, so be it."

"that's neither 'yes' nor 'no'," you point out, frowning, before vaulting your second query of the evening, "if we get married, do you want to have children?"

it won't be very unfavourable, if you both do... with the vivid colour of your eyes, or the adorable shape of your nose, or the radiance of your skin, or the— "if you want, i shall be happy to assist," he ekes out with a meaningful wink, albeit he doubts how much of it reaches you.

you're very foolish, after all... and no– it's not because of the awkward way he says it– no! not in the slightest! he wasn't fumbling at all!

you wrap the shawl tighter around your shoulders but don't move any further away, gojo notes. the same way he does the slight tint in your cheeks when you roll your eyes with a scoff.

"you're unbelievable, kore. truly, terribly unbelievable." you press the pads of your thumbs over your forehead before releasing it, gaze an unprecedented mark of sharp when it settles on his face.

"is there nothing you want from our union, eh? i refuse to believe you wish to marry me without any demands, as if on a mere whim– but if it is so, i ought to warn you, kore: my answer is and will always be one firm 'no'."

your words mustn't ignite this odd restlessness in him. they certainly mustn't— still, gojo finds his chest tight and the air heavy as he grins back and says, "i only want to be your husband, your majesty... but if that is too much for you right now–"

the stretch on his lips simmers down to something smaller. yet truer.

"i want you to call me by my name. my real name. can you do that, my rose?"

you don't say anything in response for a long while. so long, in fact, it makes the god wonder if you are ever going to reply to his request.

perhaps not, he thinks quite a bit down-spirited when you suddenly turn on your heel and with a swish of your long shawl, stride out the rooms– o-oh.

you stop just as abruptly at the threshold. a complicated grin shining on your face as you twist to look at him over your shoulder then say:

"good night, gojo satoru. pray the ghosts prowling these halls don't eat you up ere dawn."

you're gone not even few feet away from the door, before gojo falls face-first into the bed, the entire room suddenly erupting into thousands of roses in all colors ever seen. [lolol, he is such a loser for you! xD]

▸ masterlist

[del-thetiredwriter]

Pomegranates

— So here’s a one shot. Beware my English. Not exactly like greek mythology.

Toga: the loose outer garment worn in public by citizens of Ancient Rome.

Warnings: mentions of death, Ancient Greek timeline, God of dead Idia , gn reader , mythological theme…

First he turned right, then left around the corner... A groan came from the blue-haired boy, who was looking for the exit from the walls formed by blue rose bushes.

“Ahh, I think I'm lost!” he groaned.

They say curiosity killed the cat, and Ortho succumbed to his curiosity.

His brother used to come to this garden regularly every day, but no one was allowed to enter the garden except his brother. No matter how much Ortho asked his brother, no matter how much he insisted, his brother would still not let him enter the garden and would not tell him what he was doing in the garden.

Ortho took the opportunity of his brother going to Olympos and secretly entered the garden and got lost.

He had come to a crossroads again. While he was nervously thinking which one he should choose, a voice distracted him.

"Who are you?"

Ortho turned around in panic. He didn't expect to see a soul staring at him with a dull expression.

“Oh, hello.” said Ortho timidly.

He was frightened by the piercing gaze of the person in front of him.

"Who are you? And what are you doing here?”

The spirit approached him.

“Well, I'm Ortho… and I'm actually lost.”

The soul raised an eyebrow.

“Don't you know that you should not enter this labyrinth, child? You're lucky, come with me and let's get you out of here."

The sprit took his hand and they wandered back and forth through the maze of trees and bushes.

The sprit did not speak. So there was an awkward silence. There was only the rustle of the grass they were stepping on.

“Um I guess you know the maze pretty well?”

Ortho asked to lighten the mood. But the spirit did not answer.

“Do you live in this labyrinth? What is your name? How long have you been here? Who are you?.."

He started asking questions repeatedly.

The spirit finally spoke.

“But you turned out to be talkative. Unlike you, he can't even put two words together properly." They said in a whisper.

Finally the spirit stopped. They reached a door. To the entrance of the labyrinth.

"We came. Don't even think about coming here again. You were lucky this time that I found you, but you may not be so lucky next time."

They let go of Ortho's hand. The blue haired boy started walking towards the door. When he reached the doorway, he stopped and turned around.

“Can you at least tell me your name?”

The spirit looked at him expressionlessly.

“What will you do if you know? After all, we won't see each other again. Anyway, my name is Y/n and don't ever come here again.”

This was the first encounter between Ortho and the spirit named Y/n.

–

“Y/N! Where are you !"

Ortho had entered the garden again. He wanted to talk again to the spirit that showed him the way when he got lost during his first entry.

That spirit was different. Normally souls come to the underworld after death. Depending on their life on Earth, they would be sent to Elysium, the Fields of Asphodel, or the Fields of Punishment. However, this soul was in his brother's garden...

He was going around random turns, screaming your name. And in the end, he arrived at a place like a garden, without even knowing how he did it.

“Y/n!”

As soon as he saw you, he ran to you with excitement.

You were lying on a sofa with lots of cushions and pillows. There was a flowing river right next to it, and many flowers and trees around it...This place looked just like the riverside in the forest where the protagonists of Ortho's favorite fairy tale met.

You opened your eyes slightly.

"You again? Didn't I tell you not to come here again?" You scolded Ortho.

“But look, I found you. And this place is beautiful.” Ortho said as he approached you.

"Beautiful? Phew! Is this place beautiful? “You said curtly.

“Yes, look, it's very nice. There are roses, magnolias, grapes… and oh, pomegranates too! I love pomegranates, how about you? “ said the child while plucking the pomegranate from its branch.

“I used to love…” said the soul bitterly.

“Umm, shall I tell you a story?” said Ortho to digress.

The spirit did not answer, but Ortho accepted it as a yes and sat down on the sofa next to the spirit.

Once upon a time, there was a lonely king. This king was smart and strong, but he was also lonely. He had no friends or family... Anyway, one day, the king disguised himself and mingled with people, and a person caught his attention. This person was not very beautiful, very smart or perfect, but something attracted the king to this person. After that, the king started to watch this person constantly. Their daily routine, what they eats, what they likes, what they does...

One day the king could not stand it and went to the forest where that person lived. He wanted to see them closer.

–

You went down to the stream to get water. As you started filling the buckets with water, you felt a pair of eyes watching you. When you looked around, you saw someone with blue hair and a black toga watching you from afar.

“Hey young master, are you lost?” You called out.

The man looked around, frightened and not knowing what to do.

You moved towards him.

“Young master, are you lost?” You asked again.

“Oh um…I-“

You smiled.

“You seem to be a high-ranking person, what is someone like you doing in this forest?” You said.

The blue-haired man was mumbling something, but nothing could be understood.

“I'm Y/n, I live in this forest. Would you like to come to my house? “ You suggested. You haven't had any guests in a long time, in fact you never had.

"O-okey.” The young man said in panic.

"How nice. By the way, what was your name?”

“Idia”

–

From that day on, the king started to visit that person, always hiding his true identity. The king was happy, but his happiness did not last long. One day, a seer came to visit the king.

–

“You are not in that person's destiny, God of the Dead Idia. They have different life cycles in their thread of destiny. However, if you want, I can give you the thread. If you cut the thread, their fate will be like an unclear water. You can shape it the way you want and even be completely you in their destiny. ” said the god of prophecy. And he handed the thread to Idia.

Idia hesitantly took the thread. Could he really cut this thread, which symbolizes the happy future of his beloved, because of his own greed? But if he cut it, he would be the fate of his beloved.

Idia would visit the mortal you every day but that week he didn’t.He locked himself in his room and just thought about what he should do with the thread.

–

And the king finally gave in to his greed and cut the thread.

–

“Oh Idia, where have you been? I was very scared that something bad had happened.” You said while hugging him.

You were very worried when you didn't hear from him for a week.

“I brought pomegranates. From my own garden.” Idia said as he handed you a basket full of pomegranates.

“You are forgiven. I like pomegranates.”

After that, Idia started bringing you pomegranates every time he came. The pomegranate was Delicious, juicy, sweet... but slowly your health began to deteriorate. Headaches, coughing blood, nightmares... You only felt good when you were with Idia.

But how could you know that the pomegranates are from the underworld’s garden? If a god or a spirit eats it, nothing will happen, but if a human eats it... they start to die slowly. First headaches and nightmares, then they begin to see spirits that humans cannot see, and eventually they die.

-

“Agh!” You screamed in pain. Your heart was tightening and it hurt like crazy, like you were being stabbed.

Idia came running to you.He had a dark liquid in his hand. Pomegranate juice.

“Y/n, are you okay, are you having an attack again?” He helped you get up. He placed you on your bed.

“Oh gods,” you groaned.

“Here, drink some. It will make you feel better..” Idia said and handed you pomegranate juice.

“No… no I don't want to.” You said.

“Come on, for your health.” insisted Idia.

“Just one sip.”

Idia helped you drink. It was sour. Then you couldn't breathe and you closed your eyes. You dropped the glass full of pomegranate juice. It was spilled on you.It looked just like blood.

You were dead.

"I am sorry…I'm sorry for loving you. But I had to. I’m sorry, Y/n.” Idia said with a shaky voice and hugged your dead body.

–

“Then they lived happily ever after .” said Ortho and finished the story.

"How was it? It’s good isn’t it? This is my favorite fairy tale. My brother told me.” Said Ortho

But Y/n didn't answer.

“Come on, it's late, let's take you back.” Said the Spirit.

“So early?” The boy whined. He took the spirit's hand and they moved towards the exit under the soul’s leadership.

“Um Y/n I was going to ask you something. Will you come to us tomorrow? I don't know if I'll find you next time.” said Ortho innocently.

“No…I'm sorry Ortho, but I can't leave this garden, but if you want to come again, come with your brother.” Said the Spirit sadly, as if something tying them to this garden.

And they said goodbye again.

-

“So? How was your day?" Idia asked his little brother.

“Good, as I said before, I made a new friend. There I was with them and I told them my favorite story." Ortho explained with excitement.

“Is that so…by the way, what was your friend's name?”

Idia asked.

“It’s Y/n.”

[al0v3w1tch]

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ Lord Hades… Today is Lord Hades’ worship day, so I want to share information about him in honor of Him. 𖤐 Who is Hades? Hades is the oldest son of the Titans Cronus and Rhea, God of the dead, hidden wealth of the Earth, and King of the Underworld; He is widely known to have been the protector of funerals and defended the rights of the dead due to their burial. His most famous myths are the abduction of his wife, Persephone, and Him being consumed by his father alongside His other four siblings. 𖤐 Mythology. After being consumed by His father and then saved by His brother, Zeus, Hades fought alongside His siblings to take Cronus down as well as the other Titans; when they received victory, Zeus ruled over the other Gods, Poseidon ruled the sea and Hades ruled over the dead; He named His domain after Himself and has Charon transport the dead to the Underworld as long as they leave a coin offering for the ferryman. After a while of ruling the Underworld, Hades became desperate for a wife and went to his brother Zeus to ask for His consent to marry His and Demeter’s daughter, Persephone. When given the right, Hades visited Persephone in the Overworld and abducted her while she was gathering flowers in a field; after Her abduction, Her mother, Demeter, searched far for Her daughter, and with the help of the sun God, Helios, Demeter had found out where Her daughter was kept. When she confronted Zeus about the ordeal, He sent the messenger God, Hermes, down to the Underworld to talk to Hades about letting Persephone go free. The God agreed but before Persephone left, Hades had snuck pomegranate seeds into the Goddesses mouth, due to this; Hades and Demeter made a pact of Persephone would be in the Overworld with her mother for half the year and then be with her husband for the rest. Hades also had involvement with the Greek heroes Theseus and Pirithous who are known for kidnapping Helen of Troy when she was only twelve as the duo wanted to marry the daughters of Zeus. After Helen’s kidnapping, Pirithous decided he wanted to marry Persephone so they traveled to the Underworld to try and pursue the Goddess; when Hades found out about their plan, He welcomed them in with gentle hospitality but when the two tried to leave their seats, they were stuck down to them by coils of serpents. They were trapped in the Underworld until Heracles attempted to save them, he only succeeded with Theseus as when he tried to save Pirithous, the ground shook under them so Theseus and Heracles had to leave the man behind. 𖤐 Symbols, Offerings, and Altar. Symbols: - Dogs (Cerberus), black lambs, serpents, and screech owls. - Precious jewels, money, and minerals. - Cypress, white asphodel, mint, and narcissus. - Drinking horn. - Scepter. - Key. - Helm of Darkness. - Black, grey, silver, and gold colours. - Nighttime. - Autumn and Winter. - Cemeteries, crossroads, forests, and caves. Offerings: - Coins. - Stones (Dark, jagged stones work). - Alcohol (Wine specifically). - Honey. - Milk or Water. - Tobacco. - Herbs: cypress, mint, myrrh, patchouli, bay, pumpkin, yew, wormwood, cinnamon, lavender, willow, oak. - Flowers: marigold, dandelion, rose, lily, daisies, rowan, poppy, daffodils, calendulas. - Oils (Olive oils and kinds of vinegar work). - Salts and spices. - Shells or bones. - Tea (Black). - Breads or cakes. - Fruits (apples and pomegranates). - Meat (especially Lamb). - Incenses: frankincense, myrrh, wormwood, sandalwood, cinnamon, rose, pomegranate. - Black, grey, and silver candles.

𖤐 Prayers. -Great Hades, master of the dark afterworld, Honored host of our beloved dead, Husband of fair-haired Persephone, Holder of riches of the deep earth, Eldest son of full-hearted Rhea and Cronus of the shining sickle,

I praise you. Hades, kind one, unyielding one, gracious granter of respite to the suffering, Of welcome who have passed from our world, I thank you for your gift of shelter and hospitality. -Great-hearted Hades, Lord of the Afterworld, Noble husband of gracious Persephone, daughter of the earth who shares your golden throne; Advocate of the dead whose wrath falls on those who deny them due burial, or whose dishonor endures beyond the grave.

Relentless Hades, agent of vengeance, friend of the Furies, long is your arm, long your memory.

Lord of riches, lord of wealth, Yours is the abundance of the depths, the cold, unyielding treasure of metal and stone; Yours is the black dirt turned by the plow each spring, the sun-warmed soil that hides the seed.

Hades, dark-haired son of Kronos, ruler of the world beyond us, inevitable host of men and women, I thank you for your care of those who have passed; I praise you, I honor you, I revere your name. -(Can be used with prayer beads). 

Hades, great of glory, great of might,

I pray to you.

Ruler of your full share of the world,

I pray to you, O God.

Holder of indescribable wealth,

I pray to you, O God.

Lord of all who have walked this earth,

I pray to you, O God.

Yours are the riches beneath solid stone,

I pray to you, O God.

Yours is the gift of prosperity,

I pray to you, O God.

Yours is the hall that holds all we have loved,

I pray to you, O God.

Granter of fortune to those who live,

I pray to you, O God.

Giver of peace to those who have passed,

I pray to you, O God.

May I find the good your blessings bring,

I pray to you, O God.

May I see your hand within the world,

I pray to you, O God.

May I know your favor, hear your call,

I pray to you, O God.

May I honor your art and praise your works,

I pray to you, O God.

Hades, great of glory, great of might,

I pray to you. 𖤐 Blessed be.  

[aliciavance4228]

I will mostly blame Hollywood for this misconception but the fact that the Underworld is depicted as Hell even by a lot of Greek Mythology Enthusiasts is dissapointing. And sometimes, the reason for this is not necessarily misinformation, but the fact that recognizing that the Underworld doesn’t look that scary and terrifying and it resembles the earth to some extent means that Hades is not the emo, edgy god many people usually think of.

The only place which could actually be depicted similarly with Hell is Tartarus, whereas the other realms don't look as gloomy and lifeless as they seem to be. Sure, the Underworld is very dark, which is stated in many sources, but that doesn’t mean that it looks like a lovecraftian monster's residence as well.

For example, there's this misconception that nothing grows in the Underworld and that there was Persephone the one who brought nature there. But in reality, it is specified the fact that Hades has an entire pomegranate orchard behind his palace, or that some of his sacred flowers are the cypress, mint, white poplar and asphodelus (two of them being his ex-lovers), which suggests that all of these plants are growing in the Underworld. Also, for one reason or another we often forget that grass exists.

There's also the misconception that besides Cerberus there are no other animals in the Underworld. Which again, is wrong. Hades has four black horses and a whole cattle of black cows whom Menoites takes to graze on the Asphodel Meadows. Furthermore, the ancient greeks portrayed him with chickens on some vases, so there's a chance that there are hens in the Underworld too. And if you take into account what Aristophanes said, there are frogs there as well.

The last misconception I want to point out is that Hades' palace is often designed as this Dracula-like sort of building decorated with skulls and blood fountains, when in fact it is described as being made of gold. Because quess what: he's also the god of riches, and what's the point of being disproportionately wealthy if you're not going to shower in gold anyway?

So many people imagine his palace looking like this:

When in reality, it is more likely that his palace resembled Domus Aurea (I know that this is a roman palace, but I couldn't come up with any other comparation for the moment):

Finally, I'm not sure where I'm going with this post, but can we please ditch all the cliché descriptions extracted from Horror Pulp Fiction novels and come up with more accurate depictions of the Underworld? Thanks!

[literaryvein]

MY WRITING COLLECTIONS

1. I WANT TO BE SO AWFULLY HAPPY THAT I NEVER NEED TO WRITE POETRY AGAIN. This writing collection contains 79 free verse poetry. It begins with the bright top notes of bergamot, pomegranate, peppermint, and a splash of prophetic silence. It then takes on a floral mixture of carnation and geranium, tangled with an ocean of grief. The collection ends with a blend of white musk, Bourbon vanilla, and a handprint of the happy, unlived years.

2. bored god. This writing collection contains 22 free verse poetry and prose pieces. You know what I’m afraid of? That God is sick of us (N.M.)

3. monochrome me. This writing collection contains 20 free verse poetry, prose pieces, and stream of consciousness. Teaching myself how to be me again. 

4. mimicking maelstroms. A 417-page collection of poetry and prose pieces. Writings with “REQ” at the bottom indicate that the piece was requested by a reader. This contains writings that have been tossed into the flames of the internet, with some additional pieces that have since been salvaged from the fire, and a few that have never felt the sun on their face. 

5. writings from the fields of asphodel. This writing collection contains 20 poetry and prose pieces. In Greek mythology, the Asphodel Meadows is depicted as the part of the Underworld inhabited by ordinary souls, those whose lives were neither good nor evil. Lately, life is an aimless wandering through these empty fields.

6. Orchids and Other Poems This poetry collection contains 20 free verse poems. It opens up with the fresh floral notes of orchids, lavender, roses, and an ex-poet’s introspection. The heart turns dark and sweet with a blend of honeysuckle, lily-of-the-valley, religious undertones, and a variety of funeral flowers. Finally, the closing notes bring the collection together with warm amber, sandalwood, summer memories, and a hint of home.

7. Poetic Paralysis This poetry collection contains 20 free verse poems. It is split in two equal halves; the gap between these two halves represents the year I stopped writing. My year of poetic paralysis. This collection will be available on the 29th of February 2024.

8. The Book of Strangers (Part 1: The Tea Room) This writing collection consists of 17 poetry and prose pieces handwoven from strangers' stories. In another universe, we meet at the tea room. These written pieces are cups of tea I offer to you as my thanks for giving me a glimpse of your heart, dear strangers.

9. The Book of Strangers (Part 2: The Poet's Garden) This writing collection consists of 24 free verse poetry, prose pieces, and stream of consciousness handwoven from strangers' stories. This time, we meet at the poet's garden. These written pieces are flowers I plucked for you as my thanks for giving me a glimpse of your heart. Don't worry, the poet wouldn't mind.

Send Me A Message if you want to read any of my writing collections. I will send you a link if: (i) you are following this blog; (ii) indicate which collection/s you want (i.e., 1, 2, 3 etc.); (iii) let me know what you think after reading it; and (iv) do NOT know me personally.

- L. V.

[lo-shouldve-been-an-email]

Do I know that the og post about my LO rewrite didn’t get much traction?yes.

Do I still want to talk about it?absolutely.

So here’s Demeter,Hecate,and Hermes.

Also the au is now named “Persie’s little punishment”

Demeter:

Last post I said that perse and Plutus were twins.that has changed and plutus is now older than Persephone,with her having a somewhat re-written version of her original birth.

Long story short:

Asphodels(along with other flowers associated with death) cannot make flowers nymphs,however,one day Demeter realized that there was some life inside of the asphodels(to be exact,a 1000th of life),sitting lightly and waiting to be harvested.

For years she carefully replanted the asphodels in her garden,until she finally had all 1000 of the special asphodels,doing a ritual to create a flower nymph out of these to finally create the life inside the flowers.

But this wasn’t a flower nymph,no,it was a goddess.

And that’s how Persephone,goddess of the flora,was made!

As said last post,her flower symbolism is the day lily,because of their association and also because I saw on Wikipedia that they were linked with asphodels.

She raised Persephone to be as hard working as Can be,to the point where by the time of the AoW she’s basically as much of a businesswoman as her mother.

She doesn’t know about the AoW,or the community service due to Erie snatching the letter where perse explained everything.

The pin she gave Persephone was NOT worthless(at least not to perse).

Almost never goes to Olympus due to all the crap that happens up there.

A year after perse first joins the underworld staff for the community service,Demeter storms through the door,demanding to see her daughter.

After a quick explanation,perse realizes that that due to eating six pomegranate seeds,she needs to stay there half the year,leading to the agreement with hades and Demeter.(she would have done something like this either way due to the fact shes basically become a pillar of the underworld during her time there,even though the other pillars could hold their own)

It’s an easy agreement,during the summer there are almost no deaths compared to winter,where they have perse to help.

And so become the seasons,with Persephone and hades marrying,Demeter getting to see her daughter half the year,and underworld corp. having perse,hades opening up to his family after leuce,and everyone having a good agreement,it’s a win win.

Hécate:

Perse best friend in the underworld.

Doesn’t really do much in the underworld other than hang around and occasionally help with stuff.

The only person who wasn’t at least skeptical of perse when she first joined.

Can sense Peres’s connection to asphodels.

In this au,Elysium already exist and perse creates asphodel instead.

She,Thanatos,and Hermes are the main people helping.

Their plan ends up succeeding and asphodel is now an oficial part of the underworld,Persephone actually saying that it was hades idea instead of hers,and he was just too busy to help them.

Then queue perse and hades fighting on who should get the most credit:hades wants Persephone to take all of it while she wants hades to have a better rep amongst shades.

Hécate is much,much,much older than both hades and Persephone.(if only she acted it)

she ends up as one of the most hardworking employees due to Persephone’s influence,using her magic to fasten everything.

Her flowers are cow parsley.

Hermes:

He was originally hired to pick up any slack the keres and Thanatos left,but Hermes being Hermes ended up the most productive of the death guys/gals.

Idk what his flower is gonna be.

The only one who can keep up with the work ethic Hermes set is perse,so they become friends.

He’s pretty overworked and gets burned out fairly often,and in those cases he goes to the underworld because he knows people in Olympus won’t notice/care.

Has a somewhat strained relationship with hades after the death of leuce.

His family at Olympus don’t respect his job as a psychopomp.

May or may not have a little thing for Thanatos.

Gets injured on the job pretty often but knows how to lie the pain away,otherwise his productivity would be cut in half and people would be mad their stuff wouldn’t be delivered right away,so he just ignores how much some injuries hurt so that he can do his job.(the only one who actually notices is Demeter because she’s amazing,routinely pointing out the injuries on his body,but he always manages to slip away before she can question him too much)

On the note of Olympus,I feel like it’s a very “everyone is disfuncional in their own right” thing.idk I’ll elaborate more on it if I make a post on the rest of the olympians.

[suzannahnatters]

Flash Fic: The Gardens of Hades

The gardens of Hades are barren when I come.

He snatches me from the sunlit lands and carries me to the underworld, a dark chasm lit only by the distant flames of Tartarus. His house is of black marble, and as he drags me through the shadowed halls, I try to empty my mind of everything but this moment.

I know the stories. I know that the gods have cruel desires.

Instead, he opens the door to a walled garden. A black pool glitters at the centre. Naked sticks rattle in the earth, but nothing lives here.

“This is yours, Lady Persephone,” he says.

Then he leaves.

.

I’m just glad Hades leaves me alone, so I don’t ask questions. I infuse the pool with light and call grass and asphodel from the dead soil.

When he visits again, he comes with a gift.

“I have brought you a servant.” A veiled shade follows him into the garden.

I wonder if he wants me to thank him for giving me a slave when I once had friends, a desert when I once had flowers.

I wonder why he took me.

Hades inspects a young shrub. “What’s this?”

“A pomegranate,” I say.

For a moment, I think he’s going to speak. Then he swallows the impulse and leaves.

.

On the day my pomegranate tree blooms, I find the shade sitting beneath the tree wiping her eyes with her veil. She says her first word: Springtime.

Little by little, she remembers how to speak. She talks about finishing this garden and moving on, the underworld blooming under my touch.

She doesn’t remember her name, so I call her Lethe.

.

My pomegranate tree bears fruit, but as I peel it open Lethe grabs my wrist. “If you eat, you will become a creature of his realm.”

I hurl the fruit at the wall.

.

It’s only a matter of time till my mother finds me.

Hades keeps sending gifts: servants, seeds, pruning-hooks and shovels. As the garden fills with life, so do the shades. The third time he visits, he dismisses the servants and looks at me with tired eyes. I wonder if he is always this sad.

“Your mother grieves without hope. Crops and men die, and no one sacrifices to the gods.” He sighs. “I am to send you back.”

Back to the home he took from me. Back to mother and wind and sunlight, but first I have one question.

“Why did you take me?” I spit.

He is the lord of the dead. He cannot sugar his words, as other gods might. “I need you,” he admits.

I think of Lethe, and to my surprise, I understand. I am springtime, but he is pain. No wonder the dead suffer, if that is all he can give them.

Before he can stop me, I rip open a pomegranate, and the juice is sour on my tongue.

The gardens of Hades are barren when I come.

But where I tread, they bloom. ---- I wrote this flash fic for the Pilgrim Artists' Festival, a small Christian festival of art, music, and words which runs every year in Tasmania's Huon Valley. The theme for the 2019 festival was "Grief and Hope", and I at once thought of Dorothy Sayers' poem, Rex Doloris, which imagines Hades as the King of Grief. This is the 500-word short story that resulted. I'd been looking for a way of retelling the story for nearly as long as I can remember, and this ficlet is the first step in that process. I can promise you that it won't be the last.

The 2023 Pilgrim Artists' Festival is now open for submissions of fiction, non-fiction, poetry, art, and music from Christian, Nicene-Creed-affirming artists, including children and adults, anywhere in the world. This year's prompt is "Beauty in the Everyday" and there is a 500 word limit on literary entries. There are also dozens of prizes available - check them out and submit here.

[winns-stuff]

Hi,hello! Not sure if you remember me, but I'd submitted some asks and brought up discussion topics in this blog way back then! I'm back from the dead after an exasperatingly long school year and some other daunting crap!Hope you're doing fantastic!🧡❤️💜💖

I saw that thread of beyonce's beautiful pink gown and thought about how I would've designed a dress for persephone's wedding . I did some digging and found a drawing I'd painted earlier this year inspired by lore olympus and RS's long- discontinued gothic-neovictorian comic "the doctor foxglove show".

The flowers are asphodels to represent persephone and I feel like the gothic traditional regal vibe would fit her nicely.

I also have other ideas that unfortunately I'm not gonna translate into drawings anytime soon 'cause of a bunch of other stuff I'm busy with

So I'm afraid you're gonna have to use your imagination.The wedding dress doesn't have to be white( how they made demeter "force" perse's dress to be white to further antagonize her and STILL ended up drawing persephone in a white dress anyway is still beyond me tbh )her symbols could beautifully be incorporated into her dress .

Exhibit 1:a "portrait of madame x" black outfit with a bat wing-like two part cape(her sacred animal:bat) that is bejeweled with black pearls and diamonds and smokey quartz ,the tiara in that portrait is a reference to diana the roman goddess of the hunt AKA artemis,so it could be a nice tribute to her friendship with artemis in the comic .

exhibit 2: a fully bejeweled gown made out of her symbolic gem stones:Lepidolite, Rhodochrosite and Smoky Quartz, signifying her marriage to the god of wealth(I know she's meant to be anti -capitalist but the comic doesn't follow through with it so ...)the sleeves or other parts (like dress layers)could take the shape of the flower petals of asphodel or Narcissus. Maybe a jewel faux- lily crown too. Along with rubies and spinels to form the shape of pomegranates all over the whole fit.

Exhibit 3:an elegant coat-like dress made out of deer (her own sacred animal)and black ram (hades')and fur . It would be a good nod to the fur coat hades gifted her in S1 and the underworld is cold too so why not(holy ginger snaps I just realized how impractical her official queen outfit is! Like we've been told in that episoide that underworld is cold and yet persephone's dress is sleeveless!girlie's freezing!) Also pearl/alabaster-made faux deer horns could be sprouting from her back like wings

Exhibit 4:a feathery dress as a tribute to her sacred animal:parrots most of the dress could be a nice shade of green with some red and yellow feathers which would be common colors for a parrot and also the color of the bridal dresses for ancient greek and roman noblewomen .

Exhibit 5:Like I said red and yellow /gold were bridal dress colours for greeks and romans,what other things are red and yellow?!wheats and tulips! Demeter's symbols!this could've very well been a sweet tribute from daughter to mother ! Imagine a multi -layered flower gown with deep scarlet and black petal-shaped fabrics to look like tulips and a multi-layered veil to match!!! And then imagine golden embroidered threads in the shape of wheat branches and golden wheat shaped necklace and earrings too! And an emerald ,olivine and topaz choker in the shape of a gecko(demeter's sacred animal)

Of course one could also go ham and just combine all these ideas together and make a maximalistic, artsy,chaoticly gorgeous outfit.I personally like it because it could be a symbol of how playful and fun spring is but also how unpredictable and strange death is!I feel like if rachel took her time and didn't rush things she could give us something extraordinary!!!!!!

As always I hope this ask finds you in good health! Bye bye🌹☘️💖💜🎀💚🌺🌸❤️💕🧡👋🏻👋🏻👋🏻👋🏻👋🏻👋🏻

I remember you! I’m so glad to have you back! Your design is so beautiful by the way and honestly it’s very easy on the eyes too! I could see Persephone wearing something like that and also I’m honestly gushing about all of your exhibits because they’re so sweet and I absolutely love the detail you put in them. The tributes would’ve made the dress not only memorable but also very impactful to her character since Persephone was always supposed to be a more family oriented person (at least in season one when was characterized to be most comfortable with physical touch and around people) and it really would’ve showed us how strong her relationships have become over the past seasons, her friends are really just accessories at this point and they’re only brought up when it’s convenient. Hell even some signifying detail about Hades’ details would’ve been romantic like if they both wore parts of each other’s sacred animals or something like you incorporated, Hades never wears anything to represent Persephone and yet Persephone is supposed to be the one wearing dark colors now it’s just so one sided honestly.

But enough rambling, this was honestly such a sweet ask and I absolutely loved going through all of your ideas! They were genuinely so sweet and I hope everything is going great for you! <3

[sea-owl]

Spring's Rebirth Chapter 13: Gladiolus

AO3: Link

Penelope woke the next day to see her husband holding her crown in one hand and a pomegranate seed in the other. Squishing the seed between his fingers the juices dripped down one the rubies, turning them darker in color until they matched the pomegranate seeds.

He turned to her with a smile. "I think I'll call them garnets."

He handed her the crown. Penelope smiled at the jewels. “They’re beautiful.”

Colin wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. Penelope leaned into him. They sat in comfortable silence before Colin tightened his hold on Penelope.

“You ate something from the Underworld.”

Penelope nodded, now reaching for her pomegranate. “I did.”

“And you didn’t put any protection spells on it for cross court consumption.”

“I didn’t.”

Colin kissed her shoulder. “So you’re staying?”

Penelope sighed. “I don’t think I can.”

“But you-!”

Penelope turned and faced Colin. “My dear husband, I have a plan that I believe will satisfy everyone.”

Colin gave Penelope a soft kiss. “I’m listening.”

As Penelope explained her plan Colin found himself grinning at his brilliant wife. He really couldn’t ask for anyone better.

When they finally emerged Colin had on his dark robes with gold details embroidered around the edges, crown resting on his head. Penelope’s dress was a light jade green, jewel flowers sewed in around the belt of her dress. Her loose red curls held back by her poppy hair pin and her crown on her head.

They both gave each other a quick hand squeeze before joining the others in the dinning room. Francesca's and Phillip's eyes widened at the crown on Penelope's head. Felicity scooted closer to her sister.

"So you plan to stay?" Felicity asked.

Penelope took a bite of the breakfast in front of her. "Not exactly."

The Underworld looked different now, more like what Penelope used to see in her visions. The wheat fields in the Field of Punishment grew high, some souls disappearing in it all together. The perfume of flowers from the Asphodel Meadows drifted through the air. Meanwhile you could hear the laughter from Elysium as souls climbed the fruit covered trees. Even the Trail of Poppies glowed brighter now as the group led by Phillip made their way out of the Underworld.

Penelope felt pride at being able to help bring back life to the Underworld. Now she only hopes she can do the same for the world above.

There was a sense of deja vu for Penelope when she finally saw the mortal world and what her mother's wrath has done to it. It almost felt like she was seeing the Underworld for the first time again.

Colin squeezed Penelope's hand. "You can do this."

Penelope took a deep breathe. "I can do this."

Penelope took her first step back into the mortal world, and the grass under her feat turned green.

-

Portia's head snapped up. Something had just grew on the land. It didn't come her either. Actually this energy felt like . . .

Portia gasped. "Penelope."

The agriculture goddess smiled. Oh her baby, it will be over soon. Portia will see her missing daughter soon and then take her away from that chaos damned kidnapper.

She must hurry to Mount Aubrey.

-

It took every ounce of strength Penelope had. not to shrink in on herself once they reached Mount Aubrey. Every member of the Court of Heaven and the Court of Earth were in attendance. The Bridgertons besides the two beside her were of course sitting on their thrones and the part that made Penelope want to shrink in the most was her mother standing besides the thrones, glaring at the High King of the Gods.

The Court of the Underworld took their own seats. Francesca went to her throne. Phillip and Felicity gave Penelope a smile before sitting down themselves. Phillip with their friends, and Felicity with their sisters. Colin stood by Penelope as they made their greetings.

"Ah," Anthony said. "The King and Queen of the Underworld have finally joined us."

Portia rolled her eyes. "You mean your brother finally returned my daughter."

"Mama," Penelope whispered.

Portia pulled Penelope into a quick hug before looking her over for injuries. "Are you alright? That brute didn't hurt you did he?"

Penelope lifted her hands. "No Mama, I am fine. More than fine really."

Portia froze. “Penelope what is that? Where did you get that?” Portia whispered.

Penelope smiled down at her pomegranate that she brought with her. “It's a pomegranate Mama. I grew it while I was in the Underworld.”

Portia rushed towards her daughter, grabbing the sides of her arms. “Tell me you didn’t eat from it you foolish girl! Not without putting cross consumption spells on it! Tell me you didn’t!”

Penelope stared into her mother’s eyes. Her voice loud and clear as she declared, “I ate it straight from the tree, six seeds.”

The room tensed. hushed whispers broke out. Penelope could see the other two kings looking at one another while the other siblings glanced from Colin, who still remained by Penelope's side, to Portia. She could imagine her friends and sisters were whispering questions to Phillip and Felicity.

Portia turned her glare onto Colin. “You tricked my daughter!” She spat in disgust.

Colin glared back at the agriculture goddess. "I did no such thing! I love her! Penelope willingly ate the seeds on her own! And do you really think I could ever trick Penelope? She is too smart for that! It's not like you don't even know your own daughter!"

"I love my daughter!" Portia yelled.

"But you do not know her!"

"I know her well enough to know she would never willingly eat food from another court!"

"But I did," Penelope said, interrupting their argument. "I willingly ate six seeds."

Portia looked at Penelope, hurt written on her face. "Penelope?"

"I willingly ate six seeds," Penelope repeated. "Therefore I am willing to spend six months of the year in the Underworld and then six months in the mortal one. Do you approve of this deal Mama?"

Portia gently took her daughter's hand that was still holding the pomegranate. "Is this what you want?"

Penelope nodded. "I love him Mama, and I finally feel like a goddess in my own right when I'm in the Underworld."

Portia sighed. "I accept the deal."

The room exploded with noise. Penelope felt herself being asked questions left and right from her friends, her family and her new in-laws. Colin stayed by her side, entwining their hands. The two spouses smiled at one another.

"So," Michael said, plucking the pomegranate from Penelope's hand. "I made a vow to make wedding wine for each of my friends when they finally got married. You think this would make good wine? And when can we expect a wedding? Can't have wedding wine without a wedding."

Penelope burst out laughing. "Will six months do?"

[merryfortune]

when the god of spring met the god of the underworld

Written for @respectfulshipweek2023

Day 6. Tragedy | Happily Ever After

Title: when the god of spring met the god of the underworld

Ship: Respectfulshipping | Ryoken/Spectre

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! Vrains

Rating: T

Word Count: 2,849

Tags: Alternate Universe - Hades & Persephone, Kidnapping, Forced Relationships

   Spectre, the God of the Underworld, had always adored flowers.

   Their soft petals, the gentle fragrance from their centres, the colours of them all, the language that they spoke in prettiness and frailty.

   It was all so beautiful and all so for naught. A flower plucked was a flower killed. The flowers of the afterlife he knew, his dominion, were dried and decrepit, grey and suffering, so terrible, like that. Spectre wished sorely that he could have flowers as keepsakes of the living but alas. He could only keep that which was dead, had already passed on.

   His home, the Underworld, was grim. Dark. Lit only by the outskirts of where the departed souls of the heroes and heroines of the world, where they celebrated on nectar and music, surrounded by golden asphodel, their trials and tribulations now rewarded to eternal paradise but paradise was not a halidom that Spectre was invited to. All else of the Underworld, the perimeters in which Spectre haunted, the souls of the mistreated and unfortunate, the ones who had lived ordinary lives or lives of tragedies, was grey. The surroundings that he knew were atrocities of cruel mundanity, drained of colour, of life in all its glory.

   The lone exception, however, was a scrawny tree with charred bark which, once a year, bore exactly one fruit: a lopsided pomegranate that rotted quicker than it grew. It was just one tree but Spectre cherished it as it was the only thing in his garden for him to admire but he craved more. He wanted to love more.

   So, with this knowledge, in one of the God of the Underworld’s fleeting trips to the human world, to that of Earth, where it was green and blue, lush with water and fertile grounds, it made all sense that he would fall in love with the spring God of Flowers when they met. Just in brief. 

   The human world was so bright, so full of sunshine, and the celestial nature of spring God of Flowers, made even more effervescent in these conditions. The balmy breeze, the pale azure of the sky, the fluffy white clouds. Spectre held his breath as the God smiled politely at him, his eyes crystal blue and crinkling at the edge in his expression.

   That was all there was to their meeting. A greeting, a hello, and that was all. Hardly a name exchanged. Though, as divine beings, of course they knew each other vaguely as part of the pantheon but as deities of death and life, they had little to do with one another.

   But Spectre endeavoured to change that. 

   His heart - his soul, the very ichor of his being - pounded. Throbbed. He was enamoured, he was in love. Every time he closed his eyes, the lights of the back of his eyelids formed flowers that bobbed carefree in the breeze and he imagined the God of Spring at play. How he weaved flowers into crowns and wreaths, coaxing them to grow taller, brighter, healthier, and generally enjoyed the bliss afforded of being the patron of such wonderful things.

   Spectre wanted the hand of Ryoken, the God of Spring, in marriage. That was, he decided, his endeavour. 

   After his trip, the march of war in elsewhere had called and so, Spectre had to shepherd the dead who had died before their time to the Underworld, he returned home but did not retire. He searched high and low through his dominion for the materials that he would need and through his own merit, he created a ring for Ryoken to wear and a contract of marriage.

   Spectre crafted a ring engraved with flowers, little tiny flowerheads and leaves in a criss-crossing pattern, made of the loveliest silver that he could find and, in his mind, he crafted vows. Vows that would be forever and always, all eternity, no escape. It would be just them and it would be wonderful.

   He looked forward to it and so, as soon as the ring was done and as soon as he had his own words etched into his heart, Spectre ascended into the human realm once more. He took his chariot and he rode forth in the thunderous echo of the skeletal horses that he commanded.

   The earth opened up from his below and Spectre’s eyes feasted on the blue skies that were revealed through that crack. Hellfire licked at his heels and he grinned. He beamed. He breathed in the fresh air of the human realm and it was perfumed with all the scents of flowers, within metres of the crack that had opened up at his will, surrounded by bountiful gardens, the God of Spring sat, composing poems and crowns of flowers.

   “You are coming with me, beloved.” Spectre growled with a grand sweep of his arm.

   He scooped up Ryoken and he stole him from where he had sat then together, they descended into the Underworld.

   Ryoken shrieked and screamed, thrashed against Spectre’s arm but he remained firm. Hopeful. He chose to believe those screams were screams of joy. Delight. He grinned, mad, he had all expectations of something wonderful. Of light finally existing, in purity and love, in his domain and he wasn’t entirely wrong.

   When Spectre and Ryoken arrived, Spectre was quick to get them both inside the foyer of his grandiose home, made of clay and bone. It was there that he proposed.  He forced the ring onto Ryoken’s finger and when Ryoken couldn’t remove it, his expression turned harrowed. Spectre’s heart, of course, fluttered because he thought this would be the beginning of something so completely and utterly beautiful. His marital life, especially. It was there he was entirely wrong in his hopes and expectations.

   In the depths of the Underworld, where it was dark and gloomy, Ryoken’s celestial nature kept it alight. His divine nature as associated with nature, too, wherever he lingered, flowers grew and that was all what Spectre wanted. To have someone who brought light and beauty to his realm but the marital bliss itself… Well, that left a lot to be desired.

   Ryoken complained, he whinged and he whined. He wanted to go home, or else his Father was going to be cross with them both and already, they could sense that there was a divine disturbance about to unleash. Famines, natural disasters. Ryoken’s Father was a very powerful progenitor God of the World, its food and its harvests, the weather and its temperatures. 

    But Spectre did his best to placate Ryoken, of course. Mostly in the hope that if he could appease Ryoken, then perhaps that might mitigate the damages but above all. He wanted his lover to be happy, truly and genuinely happy and with him, especially, but it was difficult. Very difficult. 

   All he could think of typically turned out for naught as Ryoken refused his gifts, his banquets and his feasts, his company more often than not and when he couldn’t evade Spectre, he made sure to be as disagreeable as possible. Slowly, Spectre quietened. He had what he wanted in material but not in actuality.

   But still.

   Ryoken’s presence was a boon to the Underworld. Spectre had never been happier. There was finally life in this scourge of death of misery. He was all but over the moon but as he ran out of ideas to dote on Ryoken, who very much did not want to be doted on by his kidnapper, Spectre faded. He gave Ryoken space. He wanted so badly to hold on tight but perhaps the adage was true.

   If you love something, let it free.

   Until then, until Spectre made up his mind and until calamity had truly spilt forth, in the human world especially, he would keep Ryoken - and he would keep the flowers that he grew just by standing still. He collected the flowers - the narcissus, especially, as their golden colour enamoured Spectre - that Ryoken caused and Ryoken took notice of how Spectre gardened from his divinity.

   That… confused him.

   Spectre treated these flowers with care, even though as much as his touch, just the caress of his finger, was enough to ruin them but he tried so hard. He kept them in vases, with the freshest water that he could find in the Underworld. He talked to them, as though they could talk back.

   Spectre was aware that Ryoken was watching him. No doubt thinking him strange but he didn’t mind. Especially when watching turned to asking him a question.

   “Why do you like flowers so much?” Ryoken asked and with a touch of his own, he revitalised a flower in a vase that had long since passed away - not doubt because of Spectre’s brown thumb but it wasn’t his fault. He was the God of the Underworld, who would choose that?

   “Because I think they’re beautiful.” Spectre replied, his tone of voice simple. A shrug followed.

   It wasn’t the answer that Ryoken appeared to want. Spectre could see the disappointment in his face but his guarded facade, it did come loose. He didn’t hold himself, his arms folded in front of them.

   “Well, I’ll make sure they’re healthy for you then.” Ryoken murmured.

   “Thank you, I would appreciate it.” Spectre replied and his lips twitched. “But, um, there’s more to it. I have a memory from before I was a god…”

   Ryoken’s attention was piqued. He tilted his head just slightly and his wary eyes honed in on Spectre whose demeanour was sheepish. He was feared, a scary god of horrible things, to speak of a time from before he was any of that, that was vulnerable for him. His heart raced as he remembered that brief time before death was a concept.

   “I remember there being a field of flowers and there was someone there. We were just children but we had fun playing. I think that was the last time I felt joy before I… died.” Spectre confessed.

   Ryoken’s eyes went wide, “And those flowers… were they blue?”

   “Yes, they were. How did you know?” Spectre asked, something of a laugh to his voice.

   Before there was death, there was life. It made sense to Ryoken but he didn’t elaborate for Spectre but Spectre didn’t mind as after this conversation, they seemed to have an understanding. Their married life improved, somewhat.

   Ryoken didn’t mind being in the same room as Spectre, he didn’t mind being given clothes in the colours of the Underworld’s emblems and insignias, their heralds, too. He still wouldn’t eat though, of course, and no longer did he tug at his ring, either, in an attempt to remove it.

   It… It was pleasant.

   They both liked it well enough. The domesticity between them was still uneasy but they were able to chat now, about the small things, even if they were externally miserable, they tried to find something small. Something happy to share between themselves. It wasn’t love, for Ryoken at least, but it was amiable and much closer to what Spectre had envisioned when he had crafted his ring for Ryoken and hatched the plot to take him.

   However, it seemed, this period which was like a calm at sea, was not to last as Ryoken’s Father - Kiyoshi, God of the World - had found where his son had been taken.

   The ceiling of the Underworld split open and light from on high came down in huge, piercingly bright shafts. Kiyoshi descended and his aged face was gnarled in a grimace of the utmost furor. 

   Spectre and Ryoken both came outside, by the pomegranate tree which had not yet been touched by Ryoken’s divinity, and they quaked at the sight of the King of All Gods in his ferocity. Where he walked, the rocky ground burned, melted, and the look in his cold eyes was viscous.

   “What is the meaning of this, Spectre?” Kiyoshi growled. “You dare steal my son from under my nose? Kill him?”

   “I have done no such thing.” Spectre replied but it was obvious to both Kiyoshi and Ryoken that he was terrified to have upset Kiyoshi. “I love him, so I married him, and now, he lives with me, his husband, per the tradition that is marriage.”

   “You stole him, you did not marry him.” Kiyoshi growled.

   Spectre was silenced by that, he cowered like a dog with its tail between its legs. That was true. He didn’t want to think it was true, but it was. Those were his actions, even if he clad them in his romantic beliefs of eloping, that was the stern, hard truth.

   “I have not eaten this world’s food, Father.” Ryoken said. His voice was steady. Firm. His words took Kiyoshi by surprise, he had been expecting the worst. “At least not until now.”

   Ryoken snatched the lone pomegranate that grew on the frail branches of Spectre’s beloved tree. He was quick to crush it between his fingers and quickly ate what he could of it. Spectre yelped, begged Ryoken to reconsider. His Father was right. He did not belong to him, nor this world. He should go, he should be released but Ryoken was determined.

   His Father snatched him, however, tried to stop him from eating the pomegranate’s seeds, choking them out of his mouth by crushing his throat. Spectre, not wanting to be helpless, tried to remove Kiyoshi’s hand from his son’s throat but his grip was like iron.

   Even so. Ryoken smirked. Six seeds. That was more than what he needed.

   “What have you done?” Kiyoshi snarled as he let go.

   “Why?” Spectre asked, his hands shook, there were tears in his eyes.

   “Because I think this place is beautiful.” Ryoken said. 

   Spectre’s heart thudded in his chest. What… What did Ryoken mean by that? His own words an odd taste in his mouth as that was what he described the flowers like.

   “Yes, it is true Spectre took me from you, he forced me to marry him but I want to stay, I’ve decided because he is - was - my first love.” Ryoken said and he took Spectre’s hand. “He was that human child I played with in the days of yore, before the worlds as we knew it formed, before the humans stole fire and before anyone could die. He thinks flowers are beautiful even now and I’m glad.”

   Spectre smiled, he smiled like a madman, giddy with disbelief but that memory he had revealed to Ryoken, it became more clear in his mind. That child, he looked just like, no, exactly like Ryoken. He had white and lilac hair, crystal blue eyes, and a celestial presence. Spectre had been made a god, when he was the first human to die, but Ryoken had been born on and so, that flower field, it had been special as it was Ryoken’s godly cradle. 

   Kiyoshi glared, “How many pomegranate seeds did you eat?” he asked, his voice low, irate, but willing to negotiate. Even if diplomacy had little in the ways of gods and young love.

   “Six.” Ryoken said, confidently.

   “Then this is my decree, Spectre,” Kiyoshi growled, “for six months of the year, Ryoken may remain in this Hell. For the other six, he returns to me. Understand?”

   “Understood, thank you, sir.” Spectre said, excited, and he bowed his head to Kiyoshi.

   “But I am taking Ryoken now.” Kiyoshi said and he grabbed Ryoken by his shoulder.

   Ryoken let go of Spectre’s hand and let himself be pulled back. Spectre felt his heart throb. That perhaps this was a ploy to escape once and for all but Ryoken glanced over his shoulder at his Father and then came closer to Spectre again.

   “Wait for me, I’ll be back, I promise, beloved.” Ryoken murmured and he stole a kiss from Spectre.

   The very first one either had shared in their married life at all. Spectre’s soul all but soared at the gentle brush of their lips. Ryoken brought his hand, bejewelled with the ring of their marriage, closer he kissed it as well. The shape of the jewel embedded in it, by coincidence, the shape and size of a pomegranate seed but was blue with yellow swirled through it. For the first time, Ryoken thought it looked beautiful.

   “I will. I promise.” Spectre replied, starstruck. He placed his hand over Ryoken’s in brief, his fingers trailing over the ring and his heart fluttered. 

   Ryoken returned himself to his Father’s side. He farewelled Spectre but gave him one last present. He touched the pomegranate tree and Spectre’s breath was taken away as the tree turned a much healthier colour than it was before. Its branches bloomed with verdant green leaves and pale coloured blossoms. 

   Kiyoshi, unimpressed, continued to strong-arm his son back into the realm in which he belonged but Spectre nodded, hopeful. He would wait. Six months to a god, surely that would be a blink of an eye but until then. He had such beautiful flowers to tide him over, all thanks to Ryoken. But he would wait, with bated breath for autumn, for winter, for the return of his released love.

[hopeaterart]

More from the next chapter of Xenia because it's basically one long infodump about the worldbuilding and I. Want to share it.

“-unlike what everyone on the Surface believes, prisoners of Tartarus are allowed to make appeals for their sentences.” Hades explained, Persephone nodding. He’d figured that, since Persephone was going to be staying, he might as well explain to her how he ran things. The two were sitting behind his desk, currently covered in maps and schemes of the underworld. “I don't preside over everyone's trials, and both the judges and Furies can get overzealous. If the accused can make a good case as to how they don't belong down in Tartarus, then I move them somewhere else. Most often Asphodel.” As of now, he'd just explained Tartarus’ place in the scheme of things, at least as a place.

“Do many succeed in their appeal?” Persephone asked, curious.

Hades thought for a moment. “Not really, most get a reduced sentence. Most often, the ones I allow to pass through are thieves. In the grand scheme of things, it's such a nothing offense…”

“Are they the ones who appeal the most?” She asked, tilting her head.

“No, that would be men who were cruel to those lesser than them. They don't realize that they're nothing special.” Hades told her, before rolling his eyes. “Honestly, they all bleed blood at the end of the day. And entering legend takes much more than a few fearing your name.”

Persephone nodded, thoughtful. “Are there appeals that you… can't take?”

“Blasphemy and hubris. They've angered other gods, and I can do nothing for them.” He explained. “And most murders. It isn't very often that one is able to properly justify ending another life.”

Persephone thought for a moment, rubbing her chin. “You said only bad people end up in Tartarus. Where does everyone else go?”

Hades snorted. “Not the bad people, Persephone. Just the truly awful, those who actively harm in both actions and intentions. One can be completely and utterly mediocre to the core without ever crossing that threshold. But to answer your question, most go to Asphodel.”

“Asphodel…” Persephone muttered under her breath, trying to figure out where she'd heard that word before. She then gasped, plucking one of the white flowers out of her hair. “It's those flowers! I was wondering what they were…”

Hades chuckled. “Not a lot of things can grow down here, unfortunately. Tartarus is hostile to life itself, and both Asphodel and the rock upon which my house is built aren't much better. The only thing from the surface I've been able to maintain is a pomegranate tree.”

“Oh… what other plants are able to grow, besides these flowers and your tree?” Persephone asked.

Hades hummed, tilting his head. “Unless it's gifted by one of my siblings, all wooden furniture in my house was made from either cypress or white poplar.” He started. “Mint also grows very well.”

Persephone blew air out of her mouth, exasperated. “Even in the land of the dead, Minthe holds on stronger than most…”

“Due to being a staple back on the surface, barley has also found its way down there. Somehow. A lot of souls down in Asphodel cultivate it, while waiting for what comes next.” Hades continued explaining. “As a result, most of our plant-based food comes from the Fields of Mourning and Elysium. We get meat and other things from a mix of imports from Olympus and animal sacrifices.”

Persephone frowned. “The Fields of Mourning? I thought the Underworld was made up of three sections.”

“I- it's how I first organized things when I took over Iapetus’ position, yes.” Hades started. “Tartarus for the wicked, Elysium for the favored, and Asphodel for everyone else. However, it turns out that humans are more complicated than that. When they die, they're forced to leave behind things, and they mourn for those things.” He sighed. “Some mourn much more strongly than others.”

“So, you put them in the Field while waiting for them to calm down!” Persephone finished, beaming when Hades nodded in confirmation.

“Ultimately, my goal is to ease the process of reincarnation. Souls, once dead, break down into shades, and then these shades melt down and back into the fabric of reality.” He explained. “The favored are allowed to live in eternal bliss in Elysium, the waters from the rivers diluting each other so much it goes back around to being a regular river for those barely-shades.”

“Very dangerous to mortals though, I should guess.” Persephone pipped up, the smile on her face turning amused.

“And you'd be right. Just the Styx mixing with the Lethe would result in certain death. If you add in the Archeron, Phlegethon, and Cocytus, it would instantly kill them. Wouldn't even leave a body behind, being struck down by Zeus would be less violent.” Hades answered, smiling at her amused giggle. “But my point was: souls that mourn strongly are temporarily placed in the Fields, their energy pours out of them and into the plant “life” around, and once they've properly calmed down, they're moved to Asphodel. Once there, they often pick up what they did in life, and simply go through their motions until their end arrives.”

“I see… you mentioned rivers?” Persephone then asked, tilting her head. Hades nodded in answer. “I was only aware of the Styx. What are the other four? Do they have a function?”

“Oh! Well… you already know that Charon ferries souls across the Styx. It's also through that river that souls flow back out to be reborn.” He explained. “The Lethe is essential to the reincarnation process, as it erases memories and feelings.”

Persephone gasped in realization. “It allows the souls to break down faster!”

Hades nodded in confirmation, smiling. “You get it. Animals and monsters come through here by following the banks of the Acheron, but they break down much faster than human souls. Most often before they even make it here. The Plegethon is made of liquid fire, and flows out of Tartarus. Not all souls in Tartarus are actively punished and imprisoned, I already told you that.”

Persrphone nodded. “Not all crimes are equal. What does that have to do with the… Phlegethon river?”

“Those who can't take existing in Tartarus are allowed to throw themselves in it, and disappear.” Hades explained. “To them, it's indistiguishable from lava. It also allow their souls to reenter reincarnation.”

“Oooh… What about the Cocytus?”

“That's where souls who die at sea end up.” Hades informed her. “As well as those who weren't buried properly. Funeral rites are, in fact, very important for the dead's safe arrival here. Unfortunately, we have no safety net for souls in case they're not respected.”

“Oh, that sucks…” Persephone muttered, thinking it over. “Can't Charon offer them the ride?”

“Despite how Zeus might insist, us gods do, in fact, have flaws.” Hades deadpanned. “They tend to come with our domains. You've probably noticed that water deities tend to be choleric?”

Persephone thought for moment. “... I just thought lord Poseidon had a problem.” She then blurted out.

“Oh, he does. It's ridiculous, how easy it is to set him off.” Hades confirmed. “But have you truly not noticed it? Haven't you found that water nymphs tend to be far more badly-tempered than plant nymphs?”

“Oh! Now that you mention it…” Persephone thought about it. “Wait. Queen Hera is badly-tempered, but she's not a water deity.”

“Having a bad temper isn't exclusive to water deities, it's just the most widespread flaw amongst them.” Hades explained with a laugh. "Also, Hera and Poseidon are twins. They share far more in common than one would think."

"Uh!" Persephone exclaimed in surprise, making him laugh harder.

His expression then turned more serious. “For us Chtonic deities, our most widespread flaw is greed. Charon is included in that. Unless someone pays him, he won't ferry them across the river. And unless that someone is, let's say, a small child giving him a shiny rock, he demands a coin as payment.” He explained. “And I can’t just make him ferry everyone. He's still a son of Nyx, and she adores her children. I need my relationship with her to be positive.” Him and his siblings paying her proper respect where their predecessors failed had quite literally been the deciding factor in them solidifying their power.

Persephone groaned. “I can't think of anything to solve that…”

“It's alright.” Hades reassured her. “I don't want you to fix all of our problems. The thing with Cocytus isn't urgent. Let me worry about running things, alright?”

Persephone took a deep breath. “Alright… you still haven't told me about Elysium.”

“Ah. Elysium.” Hades gasped, before rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “It's where the god's favored go. Heroes and legends, people who have made. If they request for their families to come with them, I allow it, as long as this family isn't in Tartarus. They've earned their paradise.”

Persephone hummed, thinking. “I have a request…”

“Ask it, then.”

“Could you… maybe… allow the truly virtuous into Elysium as well?” She requested, smiling. “Consider it as them earning my favor.”

Hades chuckled, before reaching out and tucking a curl behind her ear. “Truly, you are too good for this place. Your request will be taken into consideration. I do believe that's all.” He then declared, straightening in his seat and stretching his arms above his head. “Is there anything else you're wondering about?”

“Well,” Persephone started, frowning. “I was wondering about some of the people living in your house. I do believe the three judges aren't gods, and neither is the head maid or your other head of security…”

“Oh! That's because they aren't.” Hades started explaining. “With the exception of Medusa, most of the servants in my house are shades that circle in and out of Asphodel. Minos the First, Rhadamanthus and Aecus were kings who made a good name for themselves and usually reside in Elysium, so I have them judge most souls in my stead. As for Medusa and Asterion…” He sighed. “They're monsters. They can't be judged on the same standard as humans, and I found it easier to simply… not. Especially poor Asterion. So, I have them serve my house until they're ready to rejoin the cycle.” He then got out of his seat, and offered her his hand. “Now, I do believe we should go get something to eat. Are you coming?”

Persephone smiled, taking his hand. “Lead the way, O Hades.”

[libidomechanica]

D, since

Who can move the she dream thou can be better blast.     And so red, so in last the year: O punishments! But drown without, and leaves, all throw himself     frolicked upon the rushed each the holy and deem’d a parchment. While my ears, is     not lead into Yes of it. Along deign’s pavement, the loved with breeze in the breake down ankle     into him loiter behind not

in rape is fellow wondrous for in them I love!     Blindly perjury, the peaceful careless to the Governor whether turns: like to be     soon unopposition. Break so grave house, opening, that I thee to see the came by     the lady, or twining nostrils bold song, O God, but gaze, warming since—sure his friends up     each he obsequious mother steel

we would provement for the eyes: a school of crimson     scrolls of reposited; they say, soft and t is house, a purple very heart is     its own. One ceas’d, ordained Helper! But he than all items confesse fair so wan, and happy     was not much among to ere hath of frown? To slumber’d at lead, while way on; now dance     inflame by much oft beneath half turned

asphodel, and two, until the grew wilderneath     of some trees or bones: mought is festivity was great hide—nor would be its sure have most     tear hath plenty: so loudly cowers like small pleasure a brave, and ran say but as her     love. Of folly, shall when the banish’d, I will gulphed in the produces from when a     forward its duty do that was not

though some sees all for the would sees; on sent from myself     when I do ow; and the won behind. For various simplified such let me delays,     masks, and thus statue shadow’s arms, my memorate. And year! Be out of woman put     him out for the deadly mealy shepherds do, formed by hearing—sheikh help of deed was of     glooms sworn. The teeth, God be loss of flowers!

Alas, not reach other, that she sable Mistress,     nor ankles insomnia, let that once is no numerable oft I blushes.     Failing else, for an all the shall I all tree clear, and pomegranates, that, over     the wonder, never hoverings of day i’ve no echoes delighted, full of all works     a bough a Bough, will she noted bed.

[skzsauce01]

Hymn to Myself

Anniversary Request Special

Synopsis: The Goddess of Spring tells a mortal the story of her abduction by the King of the Underworld. Follows the Homeric Hymn to Demeter.

Warning: kidnapping

Word Count: 2.6k

Pairing: fem Persephone!reader x Hades!Hyunjin

Dear mortal, listen closely, for I have deemed you worthy to hear my tale. You have danced in my name, burned offerings to me. You shall be rewarded for your worship. Lend me your ear now, and perhaps I will lend a hand in the future.

You know me by many names — The Maiden, The Younger, the Goddess of Spring — but today I will be the Queen of the Dead. There is no need to be so frightened. Your time has not come yet, nor will I be the one to ferry you to the Underworld, as you well know. Trembling and bowing your head for mercy will serve you no purpose but do as you like.

You have heard the tale, I am sure. The Dark-Haired One seizes a maiden and makes her his bride, as her mother, holy Night-Mare of the golden double-axe, ceases the earth’s harvest in her despair. The story you may have heard prior is my mother’s version, without the details of me in the Underworld.

Like most stories, it begins with the Cloud Collector, my father. Seeing that the King of the Underworld had no queen and that no goddess or nymph desired him, he offered him a bride, the flowerfaced daughter of the Corn-Mother. The King of the Dead accepted.

As you may have guessed, I did not know about this arrangement. The nymphs I surrounded myself with then, daughters of the Titan God of Rivers, did not either, yet they braided my hair and wove flowers in. Roses, crocuses, and hyacinths entangled with violets and irises to make a crown of spring. I still remember the way they fussed over me, singing songs and pulling at my scalp. I hated it. I only wanted to pick my blossoms. Once they had finished, I walked through the meadow, leaving them behind, gathering as many of the flowers I could into my arms.

Then I spotted a narcissus, its center as radiant as the sun and its petals the color of fresh milk. Its honey-sweet fragrance filled the sky and enchanted me. I approached it with both hands, ready to hold the bud to my nose, when the earth beneath me broke open.

A golden chariot drawn by sable-black horses leapt out, and I was snatched by the gloomy Lord. I cried out for my father, he of the thunderbolt, but he was the one who promised me, and I did not know that then. The King of the Dead had me in his grasp. He refused to let go. But still I cried a piercing scream, begging the pantheon of gods seated at Olympus to help, pleading Lord Helios in his own golden chariot to come down and save me. No one heard a thing when the chariot descended back into the earth.

And when we finally entered the Underworld, my voice had gone hoarse, my body limp. The flowers I clutched to my chest were the only remnants of the sunlit earth I had, but their petals had scattered into the wind and their stems wilted in the dark. The Dark-Haired One kept his arm on me, making sure I would not be able to flee. The shades wandered in the fields below us, their moans a constant hum.

Soon we stopped in front of his palace, a cold and imposing labyrinth with a locked gate reaching to the sky. A three-headed dog stood guard, saliva dripping from its maw. The King stepped off first and offered his hand to me, but I remained frozen on the chariot. It was still warm from the sun, and I wanted to soak in every last piece I could. The hound growled and lowered its center head to sniff me when I latched onto the side, even as the Lord of the house tried to drag me off.

“Leave me be,” I cried, pushing at his chest. “My father will punish you for this. He is the king of the heavens, and you will be struck with his bolt.”

“At the behest of the Thunderer, you are now my wife. Come, my queen, into your new home.”

I had no tears left, and I mutely followed him, keeping my eyes on the back of his wine-dark cloak. He led me through the gates, the corridors of his palace, all the way to the throne room. Two chairs stood next to each other, both as black as the horses and the sky. His was obsidian, etched with bone-white carvings and lined with onyx gems. The other, the ebony one intertwined with asphodel and pomegranates, belonged to me now.

“Are you pleased?” he asked.

I said nothing, for the fight in me had died along with the flowers I left between the paws of the hound.

“Are you frightened?”

Again, no sound left me. He made me sit on my throne, and I did with my head hung low. He cradled my face, and I shut my eyes. If he desired a kiss, then he could take it. I was a wife now, to the king of the Underworld too, and I would let my husband put his mouth on mine.

“Tired,” he declared after some time. “I will bring you ambrosia and nectar, so that you may recover.”

He brought the divine foods to me, but I did not eat. He tried to make conversation, but I did not speak. The scent of the asphodels and pomegranates were suffocating, and the musk of death coated the air untainted by natural fragrance. The thick slabs of wood underneath me were unyielding, and so was I. The Dark-Haired One was dismayed.

“What is it that you require?”

“I require that I be returned to my mother and to the earth.”

He smiled. “I have all of the riches of the earth. See what I have made for you.”

Humans called him the Wealthy One on occasion, and I understood that it was not merely a euphemism when he presented my crown to me: a golden-leaved garland with apple-red rubies the size of hen’s eggs and emeralds as vivid as moss, not a hint of death clouding its elegance. It was magnificent and befitting for a queen of spring. He undid the nymphs’ braids that still remained in my hair and placed the crown on my head.

“Are you happy now?” he asked.

“I will never be happy until I see the sun again.”

He frowned and left me alone on my throne, hoping I would change my mind. The ambrosia and nectar laid on the moonlight-silver tray. They glistened and glowed, their dangerously sweet scent enveloping the room, doing their best to entice me. Instead, I sat as rigid as a tree for days, languishing in my misery. Color faded from my features, and I looked like the very image of the Queen of the Dead, with my soulless eyes and ashen skin.

Day and night, I remained there. The Lord of the House was patient, as his realm was eternal and as I was immortal. He brought gifts to try to sway me: diamond birds perching on bronze branches, amethyst crocus bouquets with delicate sprigs of roses the colors of ripe peaches. I left them on the ground. They reminded me too much of what I no longer had. The treasures around me grew, but he persisted with his prizes and his attempts at conversation.

“There are many souls arriving today,” he would say. “How lovely,” I would reply.

“What do you think of the sky here?” he would ask, and I would tell him, “It is like you.”

“Would you like to see Cereberus again? I think he liked you,” to which I would answer, “I am content here.”

It was his offer to visit the Asphodel Meadows that drew me out of my fog.

We took his chariot, golden and gleaming as before. This time, he held out a hand for me, and I accepted. The three-headed dog at the entrance of the palace whined when I did not pat his heads like his master. The flowers I left as a peace offering earlier were gone, not even a broken stem lingering. I could only imagine that they were played with and eaten.

“He does like you,” the King whispered. He placed one arm around my shoulders as he held the reins with the other. I shrunk as much as I could, burying my nose in my hair so not to smell the death radiating off of him.

“Yes, I suppose he does.”

We stopped in one of the many fields, the asphodel ghostly white and fluttering in the breeze. The shades kept their distance when I stepped off the chariot and into the flowers. My bare feet touched the Underworld dirt, my ankles brushed the stalks as I roamed the meadow like I did that fateful day, plucking the prettiest blooms from their roots. The Dark-Haired One followed closely behind, and I did my best to keep my eyes on the iron sky as I wandered through more of the fields. Lone petals circled in the wind, adorning the false flowers of my crown with themselves. I thought about the nymphs — their songs, their chatter, their life — and nearly wept. Then I thought about my poor mother, with the beautiful garlands in her hair, finding no trace of me among the meadow, and I dropped to the ground.

“There is no need to cry,” said the Dark-Haired One softly. “The shades will not hurt you.”

“I want to go home,” I replied in-between my gasps. I thought that picking flowers would somehow soothe me, but they only pained my heart. “Please, let me return home.”

He held me up, and I saw up close the famed black locks that framed his face. “Home,” he smiled.

My spirits soared, and I clamored onto his chariot, eager to see the wispy clouds and splendid sun again. But I had deceived myself. For the Queen of the Underworld, the palace was home.

The throne was too far for my limp body to retire to, so he set me down upon a funeral couch. There, I laid and stared out the window at the vast number of souls inhabiting the fields. He brought me ambrosia and nectar once more, a feeble attempt that even he knew was wasted.

He ordered entertainers to sing and dance for me, but I stared at them like one of the many skulls carved on his throne.

However, my prayers were soon answered months later. The mighty Messenger of the Gods, with his golden wand, came and relayed my father’s message: I was to be returned to my mother, for she was wrathful against the gods. The Lord smiled and did not disobey the Thunderer’s orders.

“Go to your mother,” he said to me, “for I am not an unseemly husband. But you are my queen, and all those who do not perform your rituals with reverence, all those who do not perfectly burn offerings for you, will be punished.”

I did not care about those things. Still, I rejoiced and leapt from the couch with liveliness, my crown falling to the ground in my eagerness. To feel the warmth of the sun on my skin, to see the vibrant earth, to be with my mother — those were what mattered to me.

“Before you leave, I ask that you try the Underworld’s fruit,” he said, holding out a pomegranate. “As a blessing to us from the Queen of the Dead.”

“You have been nothing but kind to me, so I will,” I told him. I ate four of the seeds, red as the rubies on my Underworld crown and sweet as honey, before I could tolerate my impatience no longer.

The King’s chariot was already drawn with his sable-black horses. The dog eyed me curiously as I got onto the chariot with the Immortal Guide rather than his master. The messenger took the reins, and we ascended to the upper world. The taste of the pomegranate still coated my tongue when the earth cracked open.

We burst forth like a new sprout. The nymphs came out from the sea and flocked around, fussing like they did before. This time, I did not mind. I let them pull at my clothing and let them weave fragrant flowers in my hair.

My mother, with a dark robe, soon arrived. She saw me, stretched her arms out, and I ran into them, breathing in her familiar scent. She stroked my hair, all while murmuring in my ear about how I was safe now, how happy she was. I was happy too. I recounted my tale to her in a frenzy, words crashing into one another like the churning tides. We stayed together, roaming the fields, soaking in the sun and earth I had missed. I danced in the streams, playing with my nymphs in celebration, for I was home.

It was later that I learned that I was bound to the Underworld, having eaten the pomegranate seeds. I left with a heavy heart and arrived to the expectant Lord, smiling with his brows.

“You tricked me,” I said. I would not weep; I could endure my time here.

“It was a request you accepted,” he said as he strode to me with my crown. He adorned me with it, and I let him brush the loose tendrils from my face. “Welcome home, my queen.”

In the beginning, it was a partial home.

I left the palace as often as I could to roam among the asphodels and the shades. The shades grew acquainted with my presence and bowed to me, moaning cries of worship in that strange tongue of theirs. I learned to feed the horses with sweet pomegranate seeds to entice them into being obedient, and the golden chariot of the King became one of my possessions. I stayed away from him, for I still felt betrayed.

Despite my frigidness, he adored me like no other. The entertainers seemed to be a constant at his court now that I present. He offered to dance with me, to which I rejected every time. He played knucklebones with me on the rare occasion I was receptive. I suspected he let me win on several occasions in an attempt to open me up like a blooming flower. And whenever I returned from a walk through the fields, he would have a lavish bouquet of false flowers waiting on my throne.

However, over time I grew to recognize my stature. After all, not many goddesses could say that they had power like mine. I began to wear my royal title like a mantle, draping it around my shoulders and letting it trail behind me in my wake. I was not always merciful, as you may well know yourself, mortal, but it is nigh impossible to say that I was not fair. The Lord took this fervor of mine as a sign that I had forgiven him. I still do not know if I have.

I sit beside him, as his equal, commanding the dead just like he does. I let him kiss my cheek and sometimes return the favor if I am feeling kind that day. I dance with him, resting my head over his heart and breathing in his musk.

But he is the one who made me his bride and thrust the Underworld upon me.

It is difficult to say that I resent him. It is much easier to say that I cannot, and will never be able to, love him in the same way he loves me.

Thus, for four months of the year, I live as the Queen of the Dead, never as his wife.

Now, dear mortal, you have heard it all. Tell it to the world.

~ ad.gray

Extra: Sorry for the unholy amount of name euphemisms and epithets. The TL;DR is that I didn’t want the associations of the Greek gods’ relationships, and by extension their names, in this story because they’re a mess by modern standards, so I opted for euphemisms and epithets instead. I decided to not use names at all because consistency, I guess? This kind of works though since “Persephone” is telling the story to a mortal and mortals avoided saying certain god’s names, Persephone and Hades among them, out of fear or respect (source). Saying a god’s name gets their attention, and getting the god’s of death attention was considered unlucky (source). This story’s version of Persephone is pretty understanding, I guess. Also, I tried to mimic the style of the Homeric Hymn to Demeter (this was the translation I used), and the amount of descriptors is insane. Thanks for coming to my TedTalk.

Hope you enjoyed this! <3

[soullessdhampir]

I've started practicing writing, and I joined a queer writing group recently. Here's 3 of my practice writings using prompts from the group.

The Abyss Calls

I peer into the abyss looking behind me,

As I swim upwards to breathe in the air at the surface,

I feel the pressure from the sludge of the abyss pushing me further down,

I kick my feet harder, and push the water behind me with my arms,

As reaching the surface, and not struggling is the end goal,

I see the reflecting shimmer of light dancing above my eyes on the surface,

And I feel the warmth of the water temperature change as I get closer to the surface,

I feel a tug on my legs, and look behind me seeing twine covered in sludge grasping my ankle from the abyss,

I panic trying to get my ankle free from the sludgy twine,

I feel myself losing air, as I struggle to get free,

Finally freeing myself i swim to the surface inhaling deeply fresh air,

I bask in the bright warmth of the sunlight, and swim towards a buoy,

Upon reaching the buoy I climb a top catching my breath, and rest,

I find myself looking towards a future I've never thought I'd have, but sometimes I still hear the call of the abyss beckoning me to join it again.

Next practice piece I used a prompt that was to write something using the line "did you know the dead could fall in love?"

Love After Life

Did you know the dead could fall in love? If you were unlucky enough to find your soul mate in life you still have a chance in the afterlife. Lady Persephone has told us, "if you feel your heart beating it's a sign you're near the one."

While lying in the fields of asphodel I found truth in Lady Persephone's words. As I felt a beating heart sensation that I haven't felt since I was alive. I sat up upon hearing an euphonic voice from beside me asking, "May I sit beside you?" My heart skipped a beat as I looked into her warm golden light brown eyes full of joy I replied "I'd love nothing more than to share this space with you." As she sat beside me she asked for my name, and I told her my name was Thalia, and asked for her name in return. She responded her name was Iris, and then spoke "Forgive me for my forwardness, but I noticed you for some time now, and I saw this flower that made me think of you." She handed me a beautiful twilight sunset colored violet resembling everlasting love after death, and I accepted it graciously heart beating wildly as I did. Then Iris, held out her hand to me offering half of her pomegranate, and I accepted it. We sat in the fields of asphodel eating our pomegranates together knowing we were each other's fated soul mate.

Then this short fiction I just finished over the weekend using a prompt that was "When you leave, please take me with you"

Take me with you

“When you leave, please take me with you,” pleaded my sister. I took a look at her puppy eyed face begging me. Life in a rural town wasn’t so great for twin witches, who both happen to be queer. I being a bisexual trans woman, and her being a lesbian. My social transition was an absolute nightmare having being betrayed by a close friend whom I asked to please start referring to me with she/her pronouns, and to start calling me Rhiannon. She went behind my back, and told the whole school that I was a sick boy who needed help. Then from there of course the church, and our parents found out. I was devastated, and learned the hard way to not trust as easily, and that the only people I could trust was myself, and my twin sister, Lara. Lara held me in her arms, soothing me by rubbing my my shoulders as I sobbed. She brushed my tears away from my face, and she told me that she saw me for who I truly was, and that she would always have my back, and so would the Goddess. Remember when I told mentioned it was a nightmare living in a rural town for twins who were queer witches? Well Lara, and I are both practicing pagans, and sadly growing up in a christian family, and a christian town it’s left us feeling pretty alienated, but we both have our sacred alter hidden in a secret room that we found in our attic as kids, and kept it as our secret twin club space. Now we’ve decorated space with purple led light strips around the room, and a make shift altar that we created outta boxes, and put a pentagram cloth over along with candles, amethyst, clear quartz, and rose quartz with some runes that we use for divination. I owe so much thanks, and appreciation to the Goddess Aphrodite, as I’ve prayed to her, and left her offerings of sea shells, and an apple for me to be able start transitioning, becoming more of my true authentic self as a woman, and wanting to fulfill my womanhood.

I know that my prayers were answered when I met Peaches, at a strip club one night. Lara, and I sneaked off together to go to our first strip club together. It may seem weird that as siblings together, huh? But we strive to have as many new experiences shared together, and we both happen to be sapphic women. I was mesmerized by the strength, and skills of the dancers on the poles, and honestly these women have major core strength muscle skills! I feel as though pole dancing should be an Olympic sport. While people watching I could help notice the men drooling, and basically being putty in these women’s hands. Men such easy targets, I thought to myself while rolling my eyes. “Hey, Rhiannon, come to the bathroom with me.” Lara said to me in my ear as the music was too loud for us to hear each other. We headed towards bathroom, and once we enter Lara started washing her hands, and then her face, “The way the men treat, and look at the women here made me feel dirty, and like I needed to wash up.” “Ohh god, I know! I figured it’d be weird, and gross witnessing the male gaze, but it’s worse than I thought.” I replied. “We are at a strip club after all. What did we expect? I was thinking what if we sneak into the dressing room area, and cast a protection spell over the strippers here?” Lara asked. “That’s kinda weird sis, even for us, but they definitely could use the protection. Lead the way.” I replied

Lara, and I headed towards the door that said “Employees only”, and we peaked around the corner, and saw that the dressing room was empty, and so we went in. The dressing room was a big room with multiple stations with mirrors, and a wardrobe. I noticed Lara going over to each station, and collecting hair from each dancer’s hairbrush, and calling over to me to join her grinning as she waved me over, “I swear the things you get me into” I say to Lara as I sit beside her. “Hey don’t judge me we need something personal of theirs for the spell, and what better than hair from their brushes?” responded Lara, as she was taking black candles, lighter, amethysts, and herbs out of her drawstring bag. “Boy you came prepared almost as if youi planned this.” “Ohh I definitely planned this. Now let’s get started.” Lara wrapped an amethyst stone with the hair strands of a specific dancer for each dancer. Then I sprinkled some mint, rosemary, eucalyptus, and lavender over each amethyst. Then Lara, and I held hands, and Lara flicked the lighter, and lit the black candle. Then we started chanting, “Earth, fire, water, air, and spirit. We call upon the Goddesses Athena, Artemis, Soteria, and Hecate to bless, and bestow protective energy from each herb into each amethyst to protect each person whom we give these too. Protect them from any harm, malicious intent, and negative energy. So mote it be. Blessed be.” Then we blew out the candle at the same time.

“Y’all aren’t suppose to be in here.“ Said a voice startling us both. The woman wearing lingerie, with a garter belt, and fishnets walked over to her station, and sat down taking off her stiletto heels. “Well this is a first. We’ve had creeps sneak in jerking off in the corner, but never someone sneaking in the dressing room doing witchcraft.” “Excuse us both. We’re sorry…” I stammered outta nervousness of being caught. “It’s fine don’t worry, it’s the thought that counts after all.” She said as she packed a bowl with weed. “Besides, I won’t tell if y’all won’t tell. Management doesn’t want us smoking inside, but it’s too sketchy for us to smoke out back. May I borrow your lighter?” “Yeah of course.” Lara, replied walking over to the woman, and handing her the lighter. “Thanks, Love.” said the woman lighting her bowl, and inhaling the smoke. She held the smoke in, and let out the smoke “I’m Peaches, by the way.” she handed the lighter back to Lara. “How old are y’all?” she asked us. “We’re 18. I’m Lara, and that’s my sister Rhiannon.” replied Lara. “Thank goodness, I was worried y’all might be minors. That’s the last scandal our club needs.” Peaches said relieved. I picked up the Amethyst stone that was wrapped in the same pastel purple hairs that Peaches’ hair color was, and walked over to her handing her the crystal. “This one’s for you.” Peaches took it from me, and smiling, and laughing to herself “Y’all actually took our hairs? That’s so creepy” she said. Lara went over to the rest of the crystals, and while looking at a note she placed each crystal at the appropriate station. “Well do any of you want a hit?” Peaches asked offering her bowl after repacking it. I took the bowl from her figuring why not as first time smoking weed with a stripper would be a great story in the future. I lit the bowl, and inhaled coughing immediately. Peaches chuckled “First timer I see.” I looked over at Lara blushing, and she winked at me while packing up her stuff, and then came over to join us, and took the bowl from me. Lara lit the bowl, inhaling holding in the smoke, and then coughing as let it out.

Lara handed the bowl back to peaches, and Peaches took it, and cleaned out the bowl. “I can now scratch smoking with twins off my list of things I’ve never done before. So Rhiannon forgive me for being forward, but do you plan on medically transitioning?” asked Peaches. I was taken by surprise, and felt awkward being asked the question, and responded “I would like to, but I can’t afford a therapist to get my hormone letter, and our parents would never pay for me to see a therapist.. How’d you know I was trans?” “Hun, your hair is at that awkward growing hair out length where you need to get trimming to clean up your hair at least. Plus you’re flat chested, and you remind me of me before I started hormones.” “You’re Trans too? I never would have guessed” “Yes, I am, I been transitioning for 8 years. I strip mainly to cover my hormone costs. It’s expensive, and sadly we don’t have any informed consent clinics around. So I been ordering my hormones online. Here I’ll make a preposition for you because I like the gull the two of you have to sneak into strippers’ dressing room stealing our hair to cast a spell, and then get caught by one of us, and take her up on her offer of taking hit of her bowl. Plus I remember being your age, and I wish I was able to transition at 18. I’ll buy some extra t blockers, and estrogen, and give them to you. What do you say?” I was stunned, and taken a back to what Peaches was offering me, “Wait really? That seems to be too much to offer. I mean I’d be absolutely appreciative, and thankful, but how could I ever repay you?” “It’s no problem at all hun, I more than enough money, and besides I also had an older trans woman help me, and guide me with how to safely diy transition. I’ve been wanting to pay it forward, and also help a young trans sister too. Besides I like the vibes I’m getting off you, and your sister.” responded Peaches winking at us. “Wow thank you so much Peaches, yes please, I’d love to take you up on your offer!” I replied all smiles. Lara hugged me, and kissed my cheek whispering in my ear “Your prayers have been answered sis, and I’m so happy for you.” Peaches, Lara, and I hung out, and chatted some more getting to know each more, and then when Peaches break was over she hugged Lara, and I, and escorted us back to the club so we wouldn’t get in trouble. Then Lara, and I left the club heading back home.

After being on hormones for a year I wasn’t able to hide my breasts anymore even though they were only around almost an A cup, but not a full A, and my face becoming softer, and more feminine looking I ended up sleeping over at Peaches’ place as my parents started to just act like I didn’t exist any more, and it got mad awkward being home, and not even spoken to, or looked at anymore. Lara started staying over at Peaches’ place too more often as well to spend time with her girlfriend as Peaches, has become like an Aunt to Lara, and I. Once I started working Peaches, offered me to move in with her, and I took her up on her offer. “When you leave, please take me with you.” pleaded Lara. I looked up at her puppy eyed face begging me, and I stopped packing up my room, and replied “Of course I’m taking you with me! I already asked Peaches, if you could move in too, and she said yes. I made a deal with her to cover your rent portion until you get a job. I’d never leave you behind.” Lara started happily crying, and I hugged her tightly.

[babybatscreationsv2]

if you’re taking prompts;

so; tony is the devil. Or hades? Although hades isn’t technically “evil” so idk. And peter’s very literally made a deal with the devil. Only he couldn’t keep up with his end of the deal and now his soul he belongs to tony. aND THEN, tony kinda likes pities him and it turns into a beauty and the beast sorta thing where tony has his undead servants make feasts n all that sorta stuff so peter feels comfortable. And then they fall in love. And then they screw 😌

Thank you for this because I've been looking for an excuse to write a Hades and Persephone story. This ended up so tender and romantic that you can't call it smut. These beeches be making love. Also this ended up full fic sized so here's the details.

Eat the Fruit

Summary: When Peter's lover dies in an accident, he offers his soul to the God of the Underworld to save him, but when he is unable to fulfill his end of the deal he finds himself in the Underworld. Now Peter is left tending to the pomegranate grove where the only balm for his loneliness is Hades (aka Tony), a god with a prickly edge.

Rating: Explicit

"Oh, thank you, my lord!" The soul sobbed with gratitude. They bowed low again and again. One of Tony's soldiers came to lead her away so the line could continue.

You must love him to offer your soul to me this way.

Please, you are lord of the dead. If anyone has this power, it's you.

I am not cruel, Peter. I will restore your lover's soul. In return, you must stay with him in life until he dies a natural death.

I promise.

So be it.

----------

The agony of heartbreak still echoed in his mind. His mind replayed the moment as Harry told him goodbye and turned away, closing the door as he went. He wished he could try again. Despite how he had pleaded with Harry not to leave, had promised him whatever he wished, he felt that maybe there was something he could have done. Harry did not love him anymore. He left him.

And so Peter fainted... and he awoke in a vast orchard.

He sat up in the grass and looked around at the low trees each baring heavy red fruit. Pomegranates. They looked beautiful, delicious. Peter stood and brushed himself off. He looked around feeling unsure how he had gotten here. Then he remembered and a sob escaped him. Not only had he lost the love of his life, he had broken his deal with Hades. This beautiful grove must have been a part of the Underworld.

"So soon," said a voice. Peter turned to catch sight of a man. He was handsome, a bit older than Peter, with wrinkles around his eyes, yet those eyes shined with livelihood. When he last saw Hades it had been a shadow of his true form, something massive and hulking and terrible. He seemed almost kind now. He had been kind enough to him then.

"Please, Lord Hades, send me back. Let me try again."

The god plucked a fruit from a tree and examined it. "Sorry, kid. That was a one time offer. No take backs." He looked Peter over, then he placed the pomegranate in his hands. He walked past him and Peter followed along, afraid to be left alone in such a place.

"Please. I'll give you anything. Lord Hades-"

The god huffed and turned on the spot. He held up a finger. "First of all, there's no need to call me that. Hades is more of a title and I'm over it. Call me Tony."

"Tony?"

"Yeah, Tony. Now, listen up because I've got a short temper." Tony looked him in the eye. His hand held Peter's chin. "You will never leave the Underworld. Do you understand? Your soul belongs to me. You belong to me. This is where you will stay. Forever."

"Forever," Peter repeated. Not a question, but a realization. He had given everything for Harry. Everything.

The god took hold of his arm and turned him to look across the orchard. "Do you see the river there? You are never to attempt to cross it. If you try, its current will drag you under and you will drown in its waters until I see fit to retrieve you. The river Styx will not allow a soul to leave so easily."

Tony patted his shoulder. "Got it?"

Peter nodded. "I get it. Don't cross the river." It sure didn't sound fun to drown in a river until this oddly blase god decided to have mercy on him. "What happens now?"

Tony shrugged. "Tend the orchard or something. What do I care?"

Peter looked at him like he had grown a second head, which maybe he did have two heads, this probably wasn't his true form. "You let me sell my soul to you so I could just hang out?"

Tony's face shifted and Peter shrank back. His sudden anger was sharp and cold like a dagger made of ice. He encroached on Peter's space and with a clenched jaw he tried not to back away further. "Listen up, kid. You made the deal you wanted to make. You wanted to sacrifice yourself for what your heart desired and I gave you the opportunity. Life isn't the fairy tale you thought it was. Now, tend the trees and keep out of my hair."

Peter watched him go. He stared off in the direction that he went a while longer. Then cold began to seep into his bones. He sat down under a pomegranate tree. He wrapped his arms around his legs. Then he cried, wet tears staining the clothes he had died in. It could have been a lifetime that he cried, but when he finally got up he was numb.

Harry was gone and his life was over, but there was no going back. Peter turned in a circle, looking at the orchard. It was beautiful. If he had to spend the rest of eternity here it certainly wasn't the worst place to be. Sometimes when a breeze kicked up, he thought he heard screaming off in the direction he had decided to call south. There were certainly worse places to be even in the Underworld.

Peter walked to the edge of the pomegranate grove. Several feet from the edge, the ground began to slope down until it reached the edge of the Styx. A boat floated along the water. A man with a scraggly goatee and messy, curly, hair rowed along while a woman with red rimmed eyes sat in the seat. When she looked up, she looked right through him as if he were glass. A chill went through him. Once the feeling passed, he tried to wave at her, but she didn't respond. Was she in shock? Did she know yet that she was dead? Where was she being taken, he wondered. He hoped it was somewhere nice like his pomegranate grove and not the place where the screaming came from.

He kept walking, following the tree line, never passing the trees on the very edge. The orchard was vast, but not endless. On one side was the river Styx. On the next, the river Lethe. Or he assumed it was as the mist that came off of it made his head feel hazy. When he reached the third side is when the screaming grew louder. He walked faster until it grew distant again.

The fourth edge of the orchard stretched on into a garden. Peter stopped himself at the edge of the trees. He wasn't sure if he was allowed to leave the orchard or not. He hadn't been explicitly told not to. So he did.

He followed along low hedges and passed through clusters of hydrangea. Then the ground began to change from grass and plant life to cold gray stone. Peter looked back at the garden and the orchard beyond it. Was this allowed? He couldn't tend the trees without any tools. He'd need baskets if he were to collect the fruit and if they got sick he'd need medicines. He wasn't sure what else one could possibly do for trees. Perhaps Tony could tell him.

He found the god in question sitting a top a throne of slate. He looked far larger than he had before, but he still took the same form. He seemed bored, or perhaps indifferent was the word, as souls lined up at his feet. One soul grovelled on his knees.

"Please, my lord. I am meant for Elysium. I was a good man in life. An excellent one. I always gave to charity, I swear!"

Hades, for that's what he was a top this throne, waved his hand. "That does not make you special nor important by any means. You are not exceptional by any measure. To the fields with you." He snapped his fingers and two souls, each with hollow, black eyes and wrists wrapped in cuffs of slate, came forward and dragged the pleading soul away.

Another stepped forward and their plea was the same. They wished for Elysium and Hades waved them off.

"Won't you even listen to their stories?" Peter asked.

The god looked down at him. "Shouldn't you be working?"

"I wasn't sure exactly what I was meant to do."

"The trees will tell you when they need," he said, but Peter noticed that he did not wave him away as he did the pleading soul so he assumed he was allowed to stay.

The next soul pleaded not for Elysium, but for their lover. They begged to be reunited with them in Asphodel.

"It is not my job to see that lovers unite. If you are soul mates you will find one another," Tony said with a terribly bored voice.

"Please, my lord. I has been a hundred years-"

"Be grateful I do not drop you in the River Lethe before you are returned!" he snapped. "Be gone with you."

"You are too harsh," Peter said as the soul was dragged away

Tony glared down at him. "You don't have to listen to the same nonsense for eternity."

"You are a god. You should be grateful for that."

"You should be grateful I don't sick my hound on you," Tony growled. "Now go."

Peter hesitated, not wishing to be alone again, but the look on Tony's face was far from kind. With a deep frown, Peter turned and walked back to the orchard.

The trees weren't much for company. Peter walked through the boughs, lonely and with too much time to reflect. He thought about the life he had lost and all of the things he had given up. He thought about Harry. Did he regret leaving him now that he was dead? Did he miss him? He wondered if Harry would go to his funeral and if he would ever bring flowers. After a long while of wandering, he couldn't take it any longer. He made his way back to the place where the grass died and became stone.

There were no souls there now, only a massive dog which sat at the foot of the throne. It opened one big eye as Peter came near. When he didn't stop it raised its head only for Peter to realize that it had not one, but three. A growl rumbled in its throat.

"Sorry to bother you, big guy. I was just looking for the other big guy." Peter reached out a hand inviting the dog to smell it. It lowered its heads suspiciously. Then it sniffed.

"It's okay. I'm not up to any mischief, I promise. I was just lonely. You look like you might be lonely, too."

Peter smiled as the dog allowed him to pet his hairy nose. It watched him curiously as he came closer so he could scratch behind his ears.

"You're sweet aren't you?" Peter cooed. "Sweet boy."

"Peter?" Tony's voice called. He turned his head to see him coming up the path. "I wouldn't bother him if I were you."

"He seems to like me," Peter shrugged. "I was just looking for some company."

Tony stopped and looked at them both. He tucked his hands behind his back, watching silently while Peter pet the happy dog. His giant tail wagged into the gray dirt.

"You were lonely?" Tony finally asked.

"Trees aren't the best company as it turns out. I'm not used to be alone. Harry and I..." Peter took a breath. Just mentioning his name made his chest burn. "Well, we were always together."

"I see..." Tony stared off toward the orchard. "Come and see me tonight."

"Tonight?"

"Yes. It doesn't always get dark here, but night will fall in a few hours. Come back here then, but not before."

Peter looked at the man, but he didn't seem likely to divulge what he was up to. "Alright... I will see you then."

He gave the dog, Cerberus, one last pet. Then he turned away and walked back to the orchard.

As promised the sky above began to darken. Peter watched it with fascination for a moment. There were no stars in the Underworld. The sky was a deep navy, almost black. Yet, Peter could see perfectly fine. He walked back through the trees to where the ground became stone and there he found a grand table set with candles and silver platters.

"Peter, glad you could join me," Tony greeted. The look on his face was almost a smile.

"What is all this?"

"You said you were lonely so I thought we could share a meal together. If you'd like."

Peter smiled. "Of course! That sounds great."

Tony looked relived. He pulled out a chair for him. "I don't know what you like, but I had nearly everything I could think of prepared."

Peter sat down, offering his thanks as Tony pushed his seat up. He sat down on Peter's right. He flinched as Tony's dead soldiers melted from the shadows and began to serve him from the many plates and platters. When his plate and cup were full, they took a step back waiting to serve him again.

"This all looks amazing. I thought you couldn't eat the food in the Underworld."

Tony picked up his glass, the only thing in front of him. "If it is grown here, then it is true. Eating food grown in the Underworld can have undesired effects." He stared into his wine. Then he looked up and gave Peter a smile. "Eat," he said.

Every bite was divine. Sitting together with Tony helped chase the loneliness away. They talked about Peter's happy memories in life, his time in college, holidays with his Aunt May, being Uncle Peter to Gwen's twins. Harry wasn't there for most of the good parts. Peter couldn't help but find that strange. Harry had felt like such a big part of his life, but had he? Maybe the Underworld was making him forgetful.

After dinner, they stood together and watched the light return. Tony's odd little soldiers cleared everything away.

"Thank you, Peter," Tony said. He gave him a smile. Peter admired the way it made his eyes shine.

"No, thank you. That was a lovely dinner. I'm feeling a lot better, too."

"I'm glad." He paused for a moment and they stood simply looking at each other as the sky changed above them. "You're welcome to return here whenever you please."

Peter's smile widened. "Are you saying you enjoyed my company as well?"

Tony shrugged. "It's wasn't the worst dinner I've been to."

Peter rolled his eyes as he walked away. He returned to the orchard where the boughs were heavy with fruit. He spent hours, maybe days, picking the fruit and collecting it into baskets that he couldn't recalling seeing before. There was a pail and some tools as well.

He stuck to picking fruit for now. That is until his arms grew tired from reaching and legs grew tried from carrying him. He left the orchard to return to the throne. There was Hades, sat atop, looking terribly bored as he dealt with the unending line of souls.

"Please, Lord Hades-"

"Shoo," the god wave the soul away and they were dragged off. Peter went and took a seat, cross legged on the ground beside him. Tony spared him a glance.

"Come to watch the show?"

"I like being with you."

Tony stiffened, but said nothing in answer. Another soul stepped forward. A sort of gray tone clouded not only their skin, but their clothes as well. Peter wondered why he wasn't the same way. Was it because he Tony's soul, belonging to the orchard, while this soul belonged somewhere else? The souls from the Fields were all a bit gray.

"Please, Lord Hades, it has been one hundred and fifty years since my death. I wish to be united with my daughter. I walk the Fields endlessly and never find her," the soul pleaded.

Tony sighed. "Fine," he said. Peter blinked, sitting more upright. "When you return to the Fields, your daughter will await you at the gate."

"Oh, thank you, my lord!" The soul sobbed wjth gratitude. They bowed low again and again. One of Tony's soldiers came to lead her away so the line could continue.

"That was kind of you," Peter said.

Tony huffed in response, but he continued this way. Whenever a soul made, what seemed to Peter, a reasonable request Tony honored it. Souls were united with family, friends, and lovers so long as they walked the fields together. And when it was done, Tony walked with Peter back to the orchard.

They walked beneath the trees, the smell of pomegranate in the air.

"What changed your mind about the souls?"

Tony stood and examined one of the trees. He ignored Peter's question. "They seem happy with you here," he said.

"You were right. They do tell me what they need."

Tony smiled. "Of course I was." He turned and took Peter's hand. His heart fluttered. They kept walking until the Styx came into view. They watched the river pass by in silence. Then after a long while Tony said, "I have to go." Then he disappeared.

Peter turned in a circle, but the god was truly gone. He smiled to himself and turned back to watch the river pass. Tony left him feeling warm. He missed his company already, but he was glad to have had it in the first place.

He went back to his trees, tending them with a smile. Time as usual, without measure other than a weariness in his legs from standing. Then the trees began to ask for water.

It made sense. It never seemed to rain in the Underworld. Certainly trees would need water. He had a pail he could collect it in, but where would he get it from? The only water source nearby was the Styx. He looked around for Tony, but the god was not nearby. So he took it upon himself to get the water.

Peter carried his pail down to the riverside. He placed his feet carefully to keep from slipping into the water. Then he leaned out and scooped some water up with the pail. He set the full pail up on the bank, but its weight unbalanced him. His feet slid in the rocks and he was pulled under the water's surface.

While the Styx looked steady and calm, there was a current beneath its surface. It claimed him easy, dragging him under and pulling him far far away from the orchard. Peter tried to swim up, sometimes his hands breached the surface, but never his head. His lungs burned with lack of air, then with water. Then he was drowning. Drowning without dying.

There was never any telling how much time passed in the Underworld. But finally, finally... he was pulled from the river.

He vomited what felt like gallons of water, coughing the rest from his lungs. The pain faded quickly. Peter laid on his back and blinked wet eyes at the man standing over him. He was a shadow, blocking out the light above.

"Tony?" he rasped. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to fall in. The trees needed water and I slipped."

Tony knelt beside him. "I know. I saw the water pail by the river." He scooped Peter up and pulled him to his chest. Instantly, he was dry. "You're safe now."

"Thank you." Peter's body shook in fear and relief. "That was horrible."

Tony pet his hair and held him close. "Come and get me next time the trees need water. I will call the rain to water them."

Tony helped him stand. With slow steps they walked back together to the orchard. Tony seemed far more quiet than usual. Peter couldn't place just what was wrong. He'd been warned not to try to cross the river. Was he not allowed to go near it at all? Or did Tony think he had tried to leave. Why would it bother him so much if he did?

They passed under the first branches of the orchard. Without thinking, Peter plucked the first pomegranate he saw. He stopped and admired the round, red, fruit in his hands. Tony stopped and turned, looking back at him.

"I've never tasted one of these." Peter laughed softly. "All this time picking them and caring for them, but I never eat them."

"If you eat the fruit in the Underworld, you can never leave," Tony reminded him.

"You wouldn't let me leave anyway."

"Maybe I would." There was a vulnerable honesty there in his eyes. He was right, wasn't he? This time he was right. Harry had never loved him. He had been young and foolish and naive. Tony didn't just show him desire and adoration in the way that Harry had, no. From Tony he received respect, admiration, trust. Because Tony loved him, truly.

"You thought, even if it was only for a moment, that I had tried to cross the river. Were you relieved when you realized it was an accident?" Peter looked at his face. He said nothing, gave nothing away with his expression.

Peter looked at the fruit in his hand. He dug his thumbs into the skin and pulled it apart. It bled pink onto his skin. Tony watched him in silence, seeming to hold his breath. Peter examined his face searching for one last reassure that he was truly wanted. Then he brought the fruit to his lips and bit into its seeds.

It was perfectly sweet. The taste of it coated his tongue. Juice dripped down his chin. When he swallowed, it was heavy in his stomach. He dropped the fruit and looked at the god.

His gaze was adoring, worshipful.

"Allow me a taste," Tony said. He reached for him, pulling him in. Their lips met and Peter moaned at a taste that was far sweeter than the fruit.

His hands held Tony's face, staining his cheeks pink. Strong hands held his back, guiding him to press in closer until they were flush. Peter moaned as a tongue slipped over his own, exploring and claiming his mouth. He felt high on him, willing and receptive to any of Tony's desires.

They stopped, only for a moment, and gazed at each other's faces. Then Tony took him and laid him back in the soft grass beneath the trees.

Tony stripped away his clothes. Each article was removed with gentle care and hot kisses pressed to his newly exposed skin. Every inch of him felt sensitive to the softness of his lips and the scratch of his beard. When he was naked, Tony returned above him to kiss his lips again. Peter let his hands roam over his chest and found that his clothes were gone, revealing a muscular and scarred chest. Tony caught his hand, holding it above his heart.

"Do you mind?" he said. His eyes shined.

Peter shook his head. "You're beautiful, Tony," he said. Tony caught his mouth in a kiss that was ripe with need.

Peter spread his legs apart and Tony settled between them. His kiss were soft and tender as he pushed slowly inside him. His mouth captured the high pitch whined that escaped Peter's lips. Slowly he was filled until Tony was fully inside him. His hands clung to Tony's shoulders and he stared up into gleaming brown eyes.

He dragged his fingers over his skin to cup his face in both hands. "I love you," Peter whispered.

Tony's smile was joyous. "I love you, Peter."

Peter gasped, head falling back into the grass as Tony moved inside him. The friction felt so intense that he could form words but that didn't stop him from whining and babbling. Tony kissed his lips, his bared neck, his chest. His lips sucked his nipples, tongue flicking and teasing over them. Peter's nails dug into Tony's shoulders. All he could do was hold on as his cock dragged over his prostate and Tony fucked him fast and deep. Frantic, like he was starving. When his mouth returned to Peter's, he held him tight, kissing his lips as if they dripped ambrosia. He refused to let, kissing him deeply and desperately until he could hold on no longer. His nails cut scratches into Tony's back as his body ached and shivered beneath him. His cum splattered, sticky and warm on his skin.

He panted hard, looking up at Tony again with nothing but adoration and love. He held Tony's beautiful face.

"Cum in me, please," Peter begged.

"Anything you want is yours," Tony pledged.

He moved him again, cock deep inside, body screaming with sensitivity. A tear rolled down Peter's cheek and he whimpered painfully, but he was euphoric. Tony kissed away his tears. Peter tasted the salt on his lips. Then Tony moaned, holding him tight. Peter covered his face in kisses. He felt him cum, making him sticky and wet inside.

Tony's cheeks were red and his smile was bright. Peter couldn't help but smile, too, and pulled him down into a deep unending kiss.