#I think persephone could be corruption | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

daylighted · 7 months ago

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ━ㅤ ㅤ dean winchester.

the tale of the king of hell and the sweet angel with flowers in her hair.

a hades & persephone retelling through the veiled, handcrafted lens of demon!dean and angel!reader, addressed as persephone, fem pronouns.

content warnings. sexual implications and elusions. that's it lol it's relatively tame!

word count. 6.1k

the woods were always a safe space for him. they existed in every location on the mortal plane; some big, some small, some haunting, some inviting. it brought him great comfort that something could be so vast and sometimes vitriolic and still be loved and adorned by someone by the likes of her.

she was the manifestations of everything innocent. she was a daydream; wisps of wind carrying flower petals of creams and teals, of pinks and violets. all of which stemmed from the plucked flowers tangled and vined in her hair.

she was always alone, this girl of flowers. dropped down from heaven itself, he knew ━ in the same way that he knew her woods were the big, inviting kind. inviting to everyone but himself.

the underworld was dark and icy, so cold sometimes that blue flames licked upon skin and burned it raw, frostbite staining each orifice blue in its wake. but here, with her, it was always so warm. he did not understand the phrase burn in hell when all he wanted, really, was to burn with her.

he watched her for a long time. every day, the same spot, all by her lonesome. he could see her wings even as they were tucked beneath the skin of her shoulder blades, her entire being painted in an innocence that longed to be scorned.

in the end, it was not him that approached her, but rather her that approached him. cream colored fabric caught in the pollen-scented air that wafted through the branches and got caught in the leaves. strands of her hair tangled in front of her eyes, petals dancing behind her like a trail of pure magic.

"what is it that you long for?" she asked him, and it was such a strange question, such a strange scenario. a creature made of darkness and corruption and everything vile did not often get asked what it was that they longed for, and it was even less often that such things that they wanted were women with buried themselves in flower fields and made friends with the bees.

as such, he did not answer her. he chose to bypass her question entirely and take it upon himself to ask her something. his hand reaches out to grasp a stray petal from the silky hive that was her hair. "it is not smart to approach strangers in secluded places."

"it is hardly secluded," she said as fast, her lips forming a soft 'o' as she blew the delicate magenta petal from his two fingers. "no part of the woods is ever solitary."

she is naive, he thinks, and the naive ones are always the most fun. but there is a part of him that does not long to break her spirit, so long as he can instead nurture it and make it grow. if he was capable of such things. "i suppose you mean the creatures that lurk in the bushes?"

"the wind," she corrects, her head tilting up to absorb the impact of it. again, it tosses her hair, knocks the flower petals woven in the strands loose. her silken dress is one with the wind itself, the fabric catching the gusts and bottling them as it dances in its fingers. "it carries secrets, if you listen close enough to hear them."

and he could not help himself. "what does the wind tell you of me?"

her head tilts to the side. his world, spun on its axis, watching him right back. "that we are alike."

she could not be more wrong. she was made of clouds and goodness, constructed in the very nature of virtue. he was of sin and shadows, dark and broken, feasting off of the innocence that she radiated like a pheromone. he opens his mouth to say so, but she does not let him.

"i know you are not of this world," she continues, slowly, as if she's convinced that this is information that should frighten him that she knows; not something that intrigues him greatly. "like i imagine you know that of me, too."

he does not give a solid answer, but the slightest quirk of his lips is enough to bring a flicker of mischief into her eyes. "what is it like?"

what a peculiar question from a girl made of stardust and glitter, drawing every bit of light toward her like a beacon. he could not play naive to this, or act innocent in the terms of her question, because she had already taken those roles and embodied them perfectly.

"dark," he says, leaning ever-so-slightly closer with each word, "foreboding. lifeless."

he expects that word to drown her spirits. he expects to see the hope floating away in the river's stream, swallowed whole as it glittered beneath the water's surface. instead, she sparkles brighter, her smile wider. "do you believe in fate?"

he balks. "i believe in nothing at all."

"perhaps you should take me there," she says, tugging the loose petals from her hair and letting them rain on the grass. she still looks as wild and free as ever, perhaps even more so, without the reins of life and nature holding her back. "and i will give you something to believe in."

try as she might, it was all for naught. he believed in her so desperately already that he might as well be the drowning thing in the river. perhaps that was why it did not glitter at all.

she called herself persephone, and she called him dean, though that was not what the servants of the underworld and the demons beneath him called him. they called him hades ━ master of cruelty, harbinger of the dead.

it meant justice, where she was from, high above in the clouds with the other things crafted from perfection and innocence. it was not a name out of love, but one out of duty. he told himself this, because there was no chance that someone like her could ever reach into his heart and cradle it between her palms.

persephone had a room, closest to his, and he hated to admit that he considered locking it with a chain every night, lest she realize her mistake and want to go back to her life of oak trees and soft-petaled flowers.

but the heavy door never nudged in the days that she stayed alongside him, and the darkness seemed to hold its breath around her.

"does it not get dreary?" persephone asks upon waking up, her eyes glittering so brightly in the bleak underworld that she stood out like the beacon he believed her to be. always calling him to her.

dean's eyebrows raise a fraction. her mind formulates thoughts that she does not share, until her mouth splits open to speak questions he does not know the context of. "is death not supposed to be dreary?"

he is very good at giving her the answers she does not want. her lips contort into a blatant frown, puffed in a pout of rose petals, and her eyebrows furrow like aggravated caterpillars on her face. "it is a necessity in the life cycle. all things necessary are beautiful."

"you are a dreamer, persephone," he says dismissively, because there's an odd feeling warming his cheeks and the back of his neck. warmth. how odd it was to feel warmth that didn't scald or burn, but soothed. "i await the day that your dreams shatter to pieces."

the pout deepens. angry pink petals curled downward enough to wrinkle her smooth skin. "that is an awful thing to say."

"i would pick up every shard," dean interrupts, their eyes finally locking, "and i would put them back together, no matter how long it takes."

"i have many dreams, dean."

dean does not back down, still. "and i have many centuries."

their stares do not falter. they hold and they hold, like hands tightly woven together in secret, clutching like they might be ripped apart at any point. dean was certain nothing could take persephone from him now, what with how desperate he was for the life she brought.

"your world is cold," she says simply after what feels like eternities in of itself, "and incapable of fostering life."

an astute observation. the words fell from her lips with icy breaths punctuating between them. "i did warn you," he speaks slowly, like this time it is she that needs to have it explained to her, "that this was not a place for angels like you."

he did not warn her of such directly, no. but is scaring off someone and warning someone not the same?

"i am not the life that needs fostered," she waves her hand, her eyes dancing around her surroundings mindlessly. the blackstone countertops of his housing chambers, the metal chairs that did nothing but breed discomfort. all of it was dysfunctional ━ display pieces, in a way, so that he may feel an ounce of humanity again in his dead soul.

her finger reaches out to poke his chest. firm in her movements and her judgements. "it is you." persephone's chin tilts up in her defiant arrogance. "and how lucky you are to have me to guide you."

dean forgot, in his haste to keep persephone, that other people were capable of loving her just as vehemently as he did. it was only a matter of time before something went awry in your absence, and people began to wonder where the angel dusted in pollen and petals had floated away to.

he just did not expect it to be so soon.

a month passes, and suddenly his home is littered in gold. she is a radiant light, everything she touches bursts into life ━ and so the dark home that he'd come to know, with its dim sconces and brooding towers, has become one with light through the gaps of the windows. fresh candles that smell like daisies and lavender are placed in the caged sconces.

maybe he should be angry that she is turning his kingdom of darkness into something so alive. but all dean has ever wanted was a touch of life, and not so much death. it was something that he only began to crave when he spotted her in the woods, surrounded by living things that responded to her touch.

there is an angel at his door, and it is not the one he wishes for.

he senses it like a sixth sense; something amiss in his territory. the wind before a storm, twisting and twisting and setting everything off balance. and the silence is unlike anything he's heard before, in a place as damnable as his home.

dean exits his room with his spine rigid, booted steps heavy on the hollow stone. acts like this are not taken lightly. acts so disrespectful are met with wings hung over his throne, bloodied muscle still attached to their delicate bones.

"persephone," the angel says from the center of his throne room, without turning over their shoulder to look at him. another act of disrespect. "is... where?"

dean's steps echo in the empty room as he circles the angel. predator and prey. neither of which give any indication on who they believe the other to be, in that manner. "is none of your concern."

"you have taken an angel from a place of life and virtue and thrown her into a dungeon of death and decay," the angel snaps back at him, their teeth bared in a harsh snarl. their true form threatens beneath the surface of the vessel they wear. down here, it is much harder to keep up appearances. "it is obvious that it is our concern."

the idea of persephone being locked away sent his stomach churning. how dare anyone think that he would ever try and stifle her light? not when she is cultivating her craft and turning his home into something that is alive.

dean drops into the throne in the center of the room. flames lick to life at the first contact between him and the granite. the angel does not falter at the sight, and dean's jaw ticks because of it. "if you think she is unsafe, find her."

the angel's eyes narrow. "is this a game to you?"

"i guarantee it is not." how could he ever imagine this situation as a game, when the very root of his life is being threatened to be stolen back from him? "find her."

dean knows where she is. in her room, across the narrow hallway from his. her door is shut, but he could smell the flickering flames smelting in her fireplace, warming her from the underworld's pitch black coldness. dean knows she is safe, writing on the parchment he'd gotten for her, detailing her days and thoughts into permanence.

the angel flickers away, out of his sight. dean is left alone with his own thoughts. his, he does not want to memorialize. his stay in the creeping corners of his mind, tucked away to keep his persephone safe. not that he did not believe she could handle a little darkness; she was the one that asked him to come here, after all.

it feels like an eternity that the angel is gone. dean fears, in the very depths of his soul, that they have taken her without a warning or a trace. he'd burn them. all of them. he'd take their wings and decorate the halls of his kingdom with their feathers. he'd . . .

flickering into view is the angel, with persephone clutched between their grip. her face is contorted into that fiery expression he'd come to expect from her, defiance born in her very blood.

it was no wonder that the angels wanted to leash her. she was not like them. she was composed of flame and fury, and radiated it like she was the sun itself. dean was always so captivated by her, but it was times like this when he could not look away.

"what have you done to her?" the angel tosses the accusation dean's way like the words sicken them. again, their true form flickers just behind their eyes. at least dean was a beast that wore his skin without the skin of a lamb atop of it.

dean's fingers steeple beneath his chin. "explain."

"she does not want to come back." the angel's eyes narrow onto him, unspoken allegations swimming in their expression. "there is no reason that someone so full of life would want to bury their feet into the death and darkness of your home."

it is selfish that his heart swells at those words. does not want to leave his home. his initial worries that he would have to say goodbye to her melt away like the ice frosting over his stone walls.

"that is not true," persephone interjects, and dean stills. waits for the clarification on what wasn't true. "i do want to go home."

they say that if you love something, you must let it go. dean did not understand it. never before had he loved anything, and the prospect of releasing this precious jewel to the real world has him feeling like he's about to burst from his skin. how was he supposed to let her go? how was he supposed to . . .

panic flares the fire surrounding his throne, his fists curled into tight balls against his palms. "then you may leave."

persephone's expression shifts, her eyes flicking over to dean. hurt mares that beautiful face, her eyebrows furrow deeply, valleys between them, lines burnt into the stone. "you do not listen."

"you have made it clear," dean cannot keep the hurt from his own voice, either, "that is what you want."

it was foolish for someone like him to be irate that someone like her did not want to be around him. persephone were gold and he was ash; she were fire and he was stone.

but perhaps he'd grown used to having someone lively around amongst all of this death. perhaps the prospect of her being in his space had begun to feel less like an invasion and more like laws of nature.

death could not exist without life. life could not continue without death. it was as natural for him to crave persephone like the moon longed for the sun.

"i want choice," persephone says loudly, her voice carrying throughout the hollow throne room. "i want to not be contained."

dean straightens in his seat. "and have you felt that i've been containing you, persephone?"

she holds his gaze for a long while. so long that he sees the fire in her eyes, watches it dwindle to ash in the shore of her irises. "you have never done anything awful to me."

"i do not believe such words," the angel interrupts, their lips curled into a sneer. "manipulation is part of who he is, persephone, and you are caught right in his snare."

dean is about to lunge. his nails bite into his skin, blood pools in four glossy red crescents on his palms, with the effort it takes to not bury his fists into the cheekbones of the angel's face.

it is her eyes that keep him steady. persephone's eyes, always so open and honest. he'd mistaken her for naive when what he really saw, initially, strength. warm, like a hug. burning, like passion.

he slumps back into the throne again, his curled fists breaking open and shattering like they'd never been built for violence at all.

"he has no snare," persephone's voice is soft. flower petals brushing across his calloused knuckles, a lover's caress. "he is a product of the underworld, an image crafted to maintain his reputation. you do not know him like i have come to."

dean did not believe a lot of what she said, himself. he was not just an image of violence and cruelty; it was who he was, still, with everyone but her. his persephone.

"your mistake is that you think i am vulnerable enough to get caught in any trap," she continues, and those eyes reignite and burn as they land on the angel that clasps her wrist. "i am not a damsel, or a lamb. i am a fire burning, and you are in my way."

persephone was a fire burning. those were the two words that she'd picked for herself, when she began to acclimate to the life below the surface. she burnt trees and flowers, singed them to ash and blew them away like the seeds of a dandelion.

she had it all, up above. life burst from her fingers, the sun beat down on her and made her burst. flowers wove themselves into her hair, stems tangled in the strands, her fingertips always smelled of pollen, and she could taste the season changes on her tongue with how familiar their flavors were.

but someone that was made of life was never truly alive. she only saw things grow, cultivated them, and where was the satisfaction in it, if she never got to see them die? what was the point of life if it never ended?

the god of death had been watching her for a long while. she felt the decay long before she ever saw him, her flowers wilting and the grass turning wheat brown and crunchy beneath her green-stained knees.

life was always intrigued by death. death always craved life. she found herself drifting up to him without an ounce of fear, even as his eyes swirled with a darkness beyond her knowledge. angels were naturally contemptuous of demons like he was, but she was no typical angel, and he was no typical demon.

it'd been her plan, really, from the moment that she first sensed the burn of his gaze upon her, threatening to drain her life source from its very core, to get him to steal her away. she was exhausted with giving life to everything around her, and not ever getting to feel that thrill of something new and exciting herself.

the god did not put up much of a fight to her troublesome idea, and that was the moment that persephone realized that she had chosen right. it took nothing for him to be convinced of her purpose and her potential, whereas there was not a soul that paid her any mind unless her efforts began to slip.

she'd never felt as alive as she did walking amongst the dead, and not only because of the obvious, but because it was new. a purpose. the souls that were trapped beneath the mortal grounds did not need to live like they were entombed in eternal winter.

persephone was a fire burning in the icy pits of hell, daring to melt away its harsh exterior and warm it, starting with the man that believed her capable of such.

"what is this?" she asks upon entering into his throne room, her eyes bursting open like blooming flowers at the sight. his throne, a towering mass of obsidian once in the center of the room, was now shifted. and next to it was... "for me?"

a granite throne of smaller stature, engraved with vines and thorned flowers. lesser demons worked on it without stirring at her arrival, though their rigid backs gave way that they sensed her. she was the sole thing with a heartbeat in this kingdom, it was impossible not to.

her beloved dean sat on the big arm of his own throne, eyes narrowed and scrutinizing on the working demons, lips curled in utter focus. but the moment her voice rang out, the black depths of his eyes melted into the green she'd gotten to familiarize herself with. the green just for her. "if you wish it to be," he says nonchalantly, as if having a throne built just for her was some idle task.

"you do not have to go to such lengths for me," persephone insists, "i am merely a guest in your home."

his eyes narrow. not long ago had that angel invaded the underworld and tried to drag her away. spouting nonsense about the god's manipulation of her, turning her vision rose-tinted and blind. the angels did not know that she had manipulated the god into bending to her will. "you are not merely a guest if you wish to be more."

"that is a bold offer," and she almost calls him dean, but she refrains in front of his subjects. that name is reserved for them and them only. his vulnerability is hers to cherish.

dean's head nods once. "and you are a bold girl."

her heart swells. the hollow thud of tools on stone echoes throughout the room for endless moments while she watches him, stares into those eyes that only deepen for her.

"leave at once," he commands, his voice cold and crafted of ice. dean's eyes, though, do not freeze over into black as they stay locked with hers.

the subjects scramble to their feet and disappear into the open archway of the throne room, out of sight. in a blink, it is just persephone and the devil, his gaze crafted of marble and as warm as a hearth.

no, he is not capable of manipulating her or breaking her. but she is capable of shattering him. he is lucky she would never want to hurt him. she is lucky that his heart thaws just for her.

"i will tell them to dispose of it if you do not want it," dean says, his voice like warm honey compared to the frosty interior. "i only thought that it would be nice. to have you around when i am not available to keep you company."

persephone shakes her head. "i love it," she answers, her eyes falling back onto it. it is everything she loves at once. the harshest flowers, the cruelest thorns ━ blackstone carvings of the balance between life and death.

dean can read her like a book. his eyes stay locked onto hers for any flicker of change in them. "there is something else." his jaw ticks. "say it."

"i am afraid."

the words come so easily that she does not feel the need to sugarcoat them, or to bury the truth beneath flowery words. though his reaction is unexpected. a flinch mars his expression.

she feels guilty at once.

"oh," is all he says, and the soft utter of the one syllable alone has her reeling to make this right.

"not of you," she says quickly, desperate to get the hurt out of his beautiful eyes. "never of you." dean stays looking unconvinced. "i am afraid," she starts again, backtracking on her words so that they might sound better this time, "of how a throne for me will be perceived."

dean's expression hardens and tightens. it takes seconds for him to become a man of marble ━ harsh lines deepen the contours of his face, expression unyielding and unmoving. he is the god hades, then, and not her dean.

instead of responding, his head jerks in gesture to the throne. not hers, but his. the one that he sits on the arm of, and not in. the one that does not belong to her, and that has probably never felt the presence besides its god's.

persephone's feet carry her to it, anyways, as if her body has not realized, yet, the implications of it all. her fingers dance along the glossy stone of the empty arm, expecting it to be icy and finding it warm.

she sits upon it, and it bursts into flame.

dean does not flinch away from the wisps of fire, though. they do not touch him. as she thought, the fire adheres to him, the throne answers to him ━ and it appears to answer to her, too.

"you are as much of a queen," he mutters as his head dips down, lips brushing on the curve of her ear, "as i am a king."

persephone cannot move, stuck in the trance that was the burning in his eyes. dean leans closer, and she does not move. his breath is warm and full of life on her skin. "it is yours if you want it to be. all of this is yours."

she has never wanted something more than to mean something. to have a place amongst death as life always should. her lips part to say so, but three words interrupt her, stopping her heart in between her ribs. "i am yours."

it is incredible, persephone thinks, to be loved. to not feel too inadequate to deserve it. to be herself, and to be enough.

his hand falls on her cheek, and hers lifts to trap it there, caging his love before it can run out of her like sand in an hourglass. and before she knows it, she's leaned up enough to kiss him.

his mouth tastes like frosted pomegranate and sin. his tongue breaks through the barrier of her lips like he's craved her for so long that he knows exactly what to do now that she is here.

life unto death. life undoes death.

he keeps her face between his palms like she is something precious as he makes the moves to stand. he is between her legs, then, his fingers trailing up the dress she wears, tucking beneath its hem.

she does not stop him. his fingers land on her inner thighs. she does not stop him. he sinks to his knees in front of her, a king bowing at his own throne, surrendering.

persephone's mouth parts in blooming anticipation. his hands push her knees apart, the thin fabric of her dress's skirt pooling in between the open space. and there dean is, her dean, as warm as he is frozen, thawing at the touch of her.

"i know you do not fear fire, my beauty," he whispers, his voice as rough as gravel as he looks up at her through his eyelashes, "so burn for me."

and then he buries his face between her legs, and she bursts into flames.

"i had this made for you," dean says upon entering their shared space. she is sprawled underneath silken burgundy sheets, completely bare, still, from the previous night. and the one before that. she has not left his bed or made any attempt to.

all he wears is a wrap of black cloth around his waist, hair damp from a shower, the smell of soap billowing around the room like smoke. and in his hands is a crown.

ruby red roses wrap around the base. the sharp points are thorns. deep green vines wrap around it in its entirety. it is sharp, deadly, and it is beautiful.

the sheets pool at her lap as she sits up, her lips parted in her awe. it is beautiful. it is everything he views her as, she knows, because he does not let her forget that she is as fierce as she is soft. she is thorns and she is roses.

dean crosses the space to nestle the crown into her hair. his knuckles trail down her cheek, a soft caress, softness that stays reserved for them.

"you look beautiful wearing your power atop your head," he mumbles mindlessly, his eyes searching her expression for any sort of reaction. but she is struck wordless. there is no magic in a crown made of thorns and bloody petals, but there is magic within her now that she wears it. an irrevocable strength that does not waver.

she reaches up to touch it, fingertips dancing along the jagged points of the thorns. her finger pricks, the sting making her blink in her surprise. how long had it been since she'd dealt with pain? since she'd seen it in her very eyes?

"when you are presented tonight, to my court," dean continues, his knuckle locking beneath her chin and tilting it up higher so she may meet his eyes, "you will wear it."

the fear of being rejected by his people and his subjects is now nothing but a wobbly line pretending to be a towering wall. she had broken past those worries, shattered them into rubble and dust, the moment that he'd kissed her.

like he knows that such an act will solidify her and her feelings, he presses his mouth to hers. warm, as always. everything in the underworld, now, is becoming warm and hearty.

persephone grabs at the cloth wrapped around his waist to drag him in closer. her hands slide around the expanse of his thighs and pull, pull until his knees meet the feathery soft mattress and he is atop her.

"i will never take it off," she vows on his lips, letting him swallow their truth.

dean's lips quirk into the kiss. "already fitting perfectly into your role."

━

persephone's throne is collecting dust, now, from the disuse. dean has insisted that she sit in his lap on his throne from the very moment that they'd first gotten together, and persephone was never one to argue with what he wanted when it was what she, too, did.

his people do not like her. it is evident in their sneers and their irritation. but it is not her job to make them accept her. it is theirs to come to terms with, when she stays.

dean's hand trails up her thigh, his palm leaving shivers with each pass, raising higher beneath the hem of her black satin dress. thorned vines wrap around her legs, thorns blossoming down the center path of the room from each step she took.

she is life and she is death. and most importantly, to her, she has found a purpose within his courts.

"you must not falter if they speak ill to you," he whispers into her ear, peppering the words along her skin in between kisses, "you must show them the queen that i know you to be."

it was reassurances that persephone did not need. she was not afraid of the dead. she craved death like it starved for her.

every harsh stare toward her was met with her own sneer. it was hard to fear her above, when flowers bloomed beneath her feet and branches curled toward her, wishing to listen in on what she had to say, and the wind whispered its secrets into her ears.

here, she was fire. here, she'd never felt so alive.

persephone could feel dean's eyes on her. when she turns to meet his gaze, there is pride in his green eyes. green, just for her. green, like the leaves and the grass. she lifts her hand to smudge the wrinkles in the corners of them, the gesture a silent question and an act of affection.

"you do not have to hide from me," she promises under her breath, the pad of her thumb massaging the age lines over his stubbled face. "show me how dark you can burn."

and when his eyes blacken, she is certain that love can conquer all. it certainly has brought a king to his knees.

the warm months were dawning. persephone knew, because her veins ached with the need to be above again. spring was upon them. it was time for her to return. just as dean had his duties, she had her own. it would not be fair to throw them to the wind just because she'd found a home, now, and was no longer wandering mindlessly through the woods.

dean stands before her, a grim expression on his face. in his hands is a pomegranate, torn in two. the juice runs down his hands like blood.

from his face, she knows that he must feel, too, like he is bleeding out.

persephone steps forward to press her forehead against his, on the tips of her toes to reach him. his arms wrap tightly around her, staining the white of her flowing gown pink with the blood on his hands.

she does not make any move to pull from him, though. she has waited as long as she possibly could already, but she does not want to abandon him again to his kingdom of cold isolation. does not want to see how much he falls apart without her; not when she will shatter just as violently.

"i will be back when the wind begins to chill," she promises, slipping from his arms just enough to steal a pomegranate half from his hands. she plucks a seed from its pieces, popping it between her lips. "i will be back at the very first reddening of the leaves, i swear it."

it does not loosen his clenched jaw. dean has never doubted any of her promises, but he does doubt himself, falling into a pit of his own destruction. she does not want to leave him and see how many shards she will have to pick up upon her return.

dean's fingers reach out to steal one of her seeds. "i would never take away your ability to choose," he says softly, placing the seed on his tongue as she had, like an unspoken vow between them in the shared gestures, "but i wish that you will continue to choose me."

"always."

her eyes close, and it's like she can already hear the crying of the birds in the sky, the nymphs in the trees crying for her to return, her mother wailing. it overwhelms her. she opens her eyes again to find solace in the black swirls of his.

"i will count the days until you come," he swears, his stained fingers brushing streaks of red along her cheekbone as he cups her face against his palm. "and i will burn the world if you are kept away from me."

persephone knew he would, too. just as she would tear through it all to get back to him.

it is with great effort that she crosses the gate between the underworld and the real world. her strength crumbles the moment her feet touch the grass, tears streaming down her face, the first signification of spring being the pouring rain that starts the moment her tears do.

but she was strong, and now much stronger, now that she holds place in someone's heart and she has found solace in a home that welcomes her just as she wants to be. as a queen, not just an angel, as a girl who wants to burn as much as she wants to light.

and true to his word, the depths of hell are aflame the moment the gate closes. the ice melted and thawed, in its place, flames and fire and heat, grieving the angel of death until she makes her way home to its king again.

tags. @sthefferrete @cevansbaby-dove @titsout4nicholas @cosmicanakin @bluestrd

@ultravi0lence14 @mccartneyqp @poughkeepsie99 @depressionbarbie2023 @im-bili

@ariasong11 @chevroletdean @angelblqde @ostaramoon @deansbite

@lyarr24 @jasvtsc @deanswidow @figthoughts

click here if u want added!

#dahlia's ☆ journal #★ life unto death #dean winchester #demon!dean x angel!reader #dean winchester au #demon!dean #supernatural #spn #demon!dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester one shot #demon!dean one shot #hades and persephone #supernatural one shot #spn one shot #jensen ackles #jensen fucking ackles #greek mythology #hades and persephone retelling

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storiesoflilies · 1 year ago

Text

crimson reverie

synopsis: the gods had forbidden him from her, but they could not stop her from following the trail of pomegranate seeds that led her straight to him. w.c: 13k

pairing: hades!ryomen sukuna x persephone!f!reader.

warnings: trueform!sukuna. descriptions of bruising and choking (not the good kind). mentions of smut and greek mythology incest. sfw, but MDNI!

a/n: this piece was requested by the lovely @pinknipszz ! i want to thank my darling @neptuneblue for beta reading, and also to those who donated (@ficsforgaza) towards this fic!! you’re all very loved <3 (ao3)

it was spring, and everything was golden.

from the barley stalks swaying in the gentle breeze, their prickly feather heads tickling her as persephone ran her hands through them, to the light of helios’ sun as it made its way across the sky, to the dripping honeycomb offerings left for her at the edge of the fields from the local villagers.

life was golden, iridescent, and precious, and it was good.

birds chittered in the trees, and the smell of freshly churned soil and evening jasmine wafted through the air. it was the end of a hard day’s work for persephone, and though there was still much more to be done for the mortals that lived in this remote area, that was a task for tomorrow. for now, all she wanted was to do as she pleased.

and that was to wander through her meadows of narcissus flowers, bathe in freshwater pools of starlight, and feast on pomegranates while she rested beneath the trees that bore them. she would sleep underneath those very trees, with moonlight shining through the gaps in the leaves, tenderly kissing her brow. her meadow was her haven, on the edge of a deep, green forest, where only her playful little nymphs kept her company.

even now, persephone could hear the sweet moans of their lovemaking carried along the breeze, and she sighed in exasperation. she knew they would only reach out to her with sticky fingers and sparkling adoration, begging her to join them. they craved her so badly, yearning to offer her a different sort of ecstasy that nature could not, but persephone would not join them. she never would, for her mother demeter had forbidden her from ever corrupting her purity and from doing anything that might throw her virtue into question.

persephone was to remain a beautiful blossom that could only be gazed upon, but never ever touched.

and so, she avoided the shaded part of the meadow that met the outskirts of the forest, where the nymphs loved to congregate, and went to her favorite pomegranate tree where she would not be disturbed. persephone crouched down underneath her tree, stretching out like a feline catching the last warm rays of the day on its belly, saccharine and ostentatiously content. a light doze fell upon her quickly, her breaths coming out in light puffs, with the sounds of the birds twittering her a lullaby.

“dearest daughter, how lazy you are, napping at this hour when it is not even nightfall!”

her eyelids fluttered open as the golden light behind them turned black, the sunlight blocked by the overarching figure of her mother. with her rose-bloom shoulder, hulking figure intertwined with vines and branches, and a voice only audible through the mind, demeter inspired more fear in mortals than she should have. to them, she was a great and terrible protector of nature, and this greatly saddened persephone.

in her eyes, her dearest mother, known only to her as hanami, would always be beautiful and tender.

“i think it’s warranted after a hard days work, mother,” persephone yawned, sitting up and stretching her arms over her head.

hanami tilted her head in amusement, tiny red rose petals falling as she did so. “your humble work tires you greatly. your power has not grown as i expected it to in the time since i last visited you.”

persephone pursed her lips, avoiding direct eye contact with her mother, and replied with a stiff jaw, “it is has grown, mother. but there are many poor mortals living in these villages. hundreds of their fields need to be nurtured with my touch, otherwise they will not grow.”

she didn’t think her mother understood. demeter only cultivated the holy nature of the gods, the grand gardens of greek royalty, while persephone travelled far and wide across greece to ensure even the most remote places had a bountiful harvest. so that even the poorest of worshippers went about their lives content with full bellies and golden fields of barley. persephone knew that the other gods looked down on her, sometimes even hanami, thinking that all she would ever surmount to was a nymph tending to the flower beds of peasants.

her mother wanted to uphold that lowly picture of her beloved daughter, to avoid the attention of the other gods, and persephone accepted it. but if demeter didn’t understand that there was good, honest work to be done ensuring the welfare of lesser mortals, then persephone would still continue with the duty she had charged herself with regardless.

and so, she avoided her mother’s sharp gaze, lest she would see the spark of defiance in her eyes. a defiance for the confines of the cage that was her mothers love, and it seemed to be growing stronger with each passing day.

persephone felt demeter’s heavy hand on her head, its weight almost too rough as she stroked her affectionately. her mother’s chuckle reverberated through her head. “perhaps one day you will eventually be nearly as strong as i, my blossom, so you may continue to rest. i will not disturb your peace any longer.”

her defiance crumbled, and she felt guilty, because her mother did love her despite everything. “oh mother, you could never disturb my peace.”

a loud cry of ecstasy came from a distance, and hanami looked up, her lip curling in displeasure. “you’re too sweet, persephone. but rest well, and do not let the nymphs come anywhere near you tonight.”

persephone watched on as her mother called upon her nature, her fingers bending and beckoning the vines and narcissus as if they were long-lost lovers. within a moment, demeter was enveloped in a blanket of green and white, with only her face and neck visible.

“your father misses you, you know?” hanami murmured, almost fearfully. “he wishes to see you.”

her father zeus, satoru gojo as he was called by his brothers and sisters, was as unpredictable as the lightning he wielded with his bare hands. they were all at the mercy of his passing whims, something her mother knew well, as persephone was the product of one of his said whims. demeter tried to keep them both apart as much as possible, because she knew she could not keep satoru from having persephone if his attention settled on her for too long.

however, she also could not outright refuse the king of the gods either.

“then i shall see him,” persephone sighed. “i will go to olympus.”

“we shall go, my blossom. i would not let you face him alone. i will come for you in a fortnight, so be ready.”

and with that, demeter disappeared. persephone sighed loudly, slumping back onto the grass. although demeter held no ill will towards her brother, she understood that the gods were not like mortals, especially zeus, and did not bind or limit themselves to their marriage vows – much to hera’s rage for zeus’ many lovers. she had passed this sentiment on to her daughter many times, despite being an olympian herself.

“the gods of olympus are fickle, ever-changing, and that in itself is predictable. never stay in their company for too long.”

persephone never liked to visit olympus anyway. the gods were so very loud, ostentatious, and always bragging about the legendary achievements of themselves and their offspring. moreover, while her mothers love was endearing, it was also suffocating at the best of times. she knew demeter was always watching her every move with eagle eyes, daring any of the gods to try and come near her daughter.

save for artemis, her dearest maki, nobody else was allowed to say more than a few words to persephone.

she sighed dejectedly once more and turned over, plucking a particularly beautiful narcissus flower from beside her. with a long, slender stem, its orange center surrounded by snowy white petals, persephone admired its beauty as she leaned her back against the trunk of her pomegranate tree.

“mother will see sense one day,” she hummed, musingly, as she plucked a petal from the flower. “that i will become a goddess worthy of olympus, and do not need her protection.”

another petal plucked. “she won’t ever, and will hover over me for eternity.”

pluck!

“she will.”

pluck!

“she won’t.”

༚༅༚˳✿˳༚༅༚

it was close to midnight, and persephone could not sleep.

she spent what seemed like an age staring up at the moon, committing all of its ridges and craters to memory. if she squinted hard enough, she could make out selene’s silver and pearl chariot pulling it across the sky, her pale white horses snorting and charging through the stars of the night. beside her, the nymphs softly sighed and turned in their sleep, their nimble legs and arms entangled with each other, embracing persephone in a comforting hug to try and lull her to sleep. but it hadn’t worked this time; there was too much on her mind.

it had been ten days since she last seen her mother, and persephone’s nerves were becoming more frayed by the minute. in her meager three centuries of living, demeter had never once been hesitant about her meeting zeus. something must have changed, but what exactly, she couldn’t guess.

persephone felt a flush of warmth, the nymphs’ heat suddenly becoming too much for her to bear, and gently unwound herself from their grasp. the fresh night caressed the bare skin of her arms in a cool kiss of relief as she tip-toed through the small gaps between the scattered nymphs.

she broke into a light run across the meadow, her bare feet softly thudding against the grass, and her white toga billowing behind her as she headed to the refuge of her pomegranate tree. the narcissus were squeezed shut, as if the light of the moon bitterly stung them if they looked at it. persephone giggled, and with a tender wave of her slender fingers, the flowers unfurled their delicate petals, and their little golden faces turned towards their goddess.

she had made a meadow of minuscule suns amidst the midnight blackness of the sky. it was a small miracle, something that she could witness and cherish alone. persephone almost wanted to weep with joy, because she couldn’t remember the last time she used her own power to bring herself happiness. a particularly beautiful flower called to something deep inside her soul, and she couldn’t help but reach over and pluck it from the ground. she tenderly cradled it in her palm, cooing and whispering sweet nothings to it as she spied another gorgeous bloom, and plucked it too.

and another.

and another two beside it.

she picked and picked until a whole armful was practically overflowing from her arms, somehow weaving themselves into a delicate long dress that trailed behind her as she walked back to her tree. persephone laughed, carefree and as light as birds feathers, wrapping her indulgence around her like silk. tonight, she would sleep on a bed of flowers, and nobody could say anything to stop her.

the flowers dropped to the ground at the foot of the tree, as if a magic gust of wind had told them to arrange themselves into the perfect blanket for persephone to lay on. she dropped to her knees and laid out, rubbing the apples of her cheeks against the petals.

that was when she saw him.

he stood there, his looming figure visible from this distance, and his eyes.

oh, his eyes.

four of them there were. she didn’t need to strain to see them; they glowed iridescently, shimmering like blood-red rubies that reminded her of a deep bowl of pomegranate seeds. a promise of a messy feast, dripping messily from her chin onto her hands, coating them in red, red, red.

persephone instinctively sat up, her body going rigid, as if the very essence of her life had left her. the stranger stalked towards her, and in the light of selene, his form became clearly visible. he was a god, that much was clear, for his large body was adorned with the black markings of death, seeming to swirl and move by a trick of the moonlight. he had two pairs of arms, one of which carried an obsidian bident that whispered of violence and horror.

this was undeniably hades, the god of the underworld himself.

persephone knew who he was because hermes had told her stories of his frequent descents to the underworld, whenever her mother wasn’t around, of course. of how hades sat atop a throne of black diamonds, with the viscous cerberus at his feet, unfeeling and unforgiving as hermes guided both the lucky and unlucky souls to wherever hades had judged them to go.

why was he here? hades was known to reside in his halls of blood and bones, and never left it. the last time he had even been to olympus was sometime before she was born. he stood before her now, looking down at her with an expression she couldn’t decipher. his lower pair of eyes were flicking back and forth between different parts of her, as if sizing her up. she stared up into his eyes, her heart hammering against her ribcage like a trapped bird.

“do not look at me that way,” the god rumbled, his voice carrying something ancient, as old as the depths of the earth. he was carved from war, a god who had struck down titans, and it was obvious.

persephone’s heart skipped a beat, and she clenched her fist, accidentally crushing a poor narcissus. “in what way?”

“as if i was about to strike you down this instant,” hades replied, his tone resonating with chilling authority.

her eyes flicked pointedly to his bident. “why else are you here then, lord hades?”

hades glowered at her, seemingly displeased, and tightly gripped his bident before throwing it a distance away, never taking his eyes off of her. “better?” he asked sneeringly, a slither of fire, and squatted down right in front of her.

she could only nod her head, his proximity alarming and unnerving her. despite him lowering himself, hades still looked down on her, looming over persephone with the promise of death.

“so,” he started, his tongue swiping over his lips. “you’re my brother’s elusive daughter.” persephone gaped, shocked he even knew of her existence, and hades chuckled darkly. “hermes likes to talk, especially to me.”

he grinned, a hint, no promise of madness, like knowing the grass would be kissed by water droplets overnight. she knew she had to tread carefully as she stared into his eyes, and accepting that she may not survive this night completely unscathed. hades adjusted himself into a sitting position, his powerful legs crossed over each other, his movements causing persephone to flinch. he rolled his eyes, displeasure flashing in them again.

“i must say, you look nothing like satoru,” he continued, his bottom eyes still observing her so very closely. “definitely not like my sister either.”

persephone asked, perhaps foolishly, naively, “does that please you?”

with a flash of crimson and jasmine-scented air, heat rose to her cheeks. she placed her hands delicately on her lap, as if behaving more placidly and curling in on herself would save her from him. hades tilted his head amusingly at her, pink-peach curls rolling to the side.

he knew she was inexperienced, clearly reveled in it, soaking himself in it, dipping his fingers in and licking them clean.

persephone hated it.

and unexpectedly, she hated her mother for making her so inexperienced, for sheltering her, and pruning her so that she was always prim and proper.

his crimson eyes flashed mirthfully, lips curling upwards. “you care what pleases me, little flower?”

hades’ words only added to her inner turmoil of embarrassment, and she refused to allow him even a glimpse of her vulnerability. so, persephone maintained a somewhat composed exterior, refusing to answer, and a fragile silence enveloped them, save for the hum of crickets in the bushes. hades turned his attention elsewhere, supporting his chin with one of his hands, seemingly gracing her the dignity of not responding to his taunt.

“a goddess should not be fraternizing so closely with mortals,” he said suddenly, a sour look on his features. “especially a daughter of zeus.”

“i do not mix with them,” persephone corrected gently. “it is my duty to help their grains grow.”

hades scoffed, white fangs flashing in the silver moonlight, and one of his smaller eyes fixed solely on her. “your duty, or the one placed upon you by demeter? you should know, mortals do not deserve the power of a goddess.”

persephone didn’t know what to make of the god of the dead. here he was, never having met her before, yet referred to her as a goddess, as if she belonged on olympus drinking ambrosia with the rest of her family. she felt somewhat honored, acknowledged, that hades seemed to be able to see her meager power for what it was worth.

“why do you think they are so undeserving?” persephone asked rather curiously. “they worship the very ground we walk on, pray to us, and turn to us in times of need. have they not earned our help?”

"sweet little flower, they would defile and hurt you the very first chance they got. mortals are ugly, infesting creatures that care for nothing except themselves. they serve only as a means to an end for my kingdom."

the grass underneath hades suddenly wilted, as if he had let his power run free for just a moment. something seemed to have snapped in him, something dark. for whatever reason, he seemed to loathe the very souls that inhabited his kingdom. perhaps he had judged them for far too long, had heard and seen all they had done in their short little lives, and deemed the lot of them unworthy of anything good at all.

and still, hades would carry out his duty and pass judgment, allowing the very same mortals who shirked and shunned his name to avoid his attention to pass onto a happier afterlife if they so deserved it. she couldn’t imagine how spiteful she would grow to be if the villagers trampled on the barley she grew for them.

despite her initial apprehension, it made her heart ache for him.

it was pure instinct, but persephone reach out and placed a narcissus right next to one of his hands.

all of his four crimson eyes were fixed on her, and she felt another flush of heat wash over her body. how strange, she imagined being close to death would be like ice, cold and empty, instead of fire and the rushing of her godly blood through her veins and arteries.

“you are a strange one,” hades murmured, pinching the stem between his fingers, sniffing the bloom almost suspiciously with his nose upturned. “tell me your name.”

“hermes did not tell you?”

“he is a trickster, and speaks in riddles. he would not give your name to me willingly.”

“then it is persephone, but my mother calls me kore.”

“and what do you prefer to be known as, little flower?”

she hesitated for a moment. “persephone.”

hades repeated her name, tasting it on his tongue and between his teeth, in the same way she savored a gem of pomegranate seed.

was it sweet to him?

something told her that it was.

the ghost of a smile played on his lips, something old and perhaps long since forgotten until this moment. hades stood up, brushing the dead blades of grass from his toga. “well, persephone, i must leave you. i cannot be away from my kingdom for too long.”

she understood that. the underworld was his home the way the fields of golden barley was hers. but why hades had even come to the surface, persephone didn't understand, and perhaps never would. "farewell, hades."

"ryomen," he correct, almost insistently, one pair of his arms folded over his broad chest in a display of strength. or was it vulnerability? perhaps protecting his heart from that which would seek to harm it? “you may call me ryomen."

with that, the earth beneath his feet cracked and split open, and a deafening rumbling reverberated through her eardrums as she clapped her hands to cover her ears and squeezed her eyes shut. when she opened them again, the god of the dead had all but disappeared.

persephone could not help but feel a touch of disappointment.

༚༅༚˳✿˳༚༅༚

demeter was enraged.

it had only taken a single whiff for her to mother to know. she could sense the unmistakable aura of her brother, the essence of death clinging to persephone like a shroud. it was a like a smell that permeated every crevice of her body, one that no amount of scrubbing or soaking could wash away.

"how dare he approach you?" demeter seethed, gripping persephone's face so tightly she thought her bones would crack. "did you encourage him? have the nymphs corrupted you? did you lay with him?”

"n-no, mother," persephone sputtered, struggling against demeter’s hold, her feet wriggling as they dangled uselessly in the air. "i would never do so."

demeter's wrath was rare but quick to build, like dried kindling catching fire, "you lie," she sneered, teeth bared in a snarl as she shook her. "you must have done something to entice him to approach you."

“ah! no, hanami!” she cried, milky-white tears falling like shining pearls from her eyes. “i never encouraged him once!”

her mother scoffed cruelly and dropped her to the ground in an ungraceful heap, pacing erratically back and forth as she muttered to herself, “zeus will hear of this! oh yes, he must be told at once.”

persephone painfully rubbed her cheekbones, feeling a dull ache spreading throughout her face. the trees of the forest were screaming bloody murder whirled madly in a chaotic dance, the very essence of nature responding to her mother’s rage. vine tendrils lashed angrily like whips of fire, and persephone flinched to avoid being struck. she had seen this sort of anger before, always directed at foolish mortals who dared to lay a finger against nature.

but never her. never once had it been against her.

it shifted something within her, and persephone knew it would never go back to where it belonged. she had done everything her mother asked her whole life, been obedient, never complaining as she followed her rules and carried out her duties. as the tendrils of resentment tightened around her like poison, persephone was beginning to understand one thing.

nothing would ever be enough to please demeter.

(somewhere in her meadow, a narcissus petal fell, and the god of the dead stirred in his throne.)

eventually, demeter’s rage calmed, like a hurricane settling into a somewhat pleasant sea breeze. she looked at persephone, who hoped to sense some semblance of remorse or even sheepishness for what her mother had just done. yet, there was nothing – only the remnants of simmering anger, now settled enough for demeter to think clearly.

“forgive me,” demeter murmured, placing a stiff hand upon her head. “you are still young, and i must protect you from the gods. they would only seek to corrupt you, especially hades.”

and what about you? what about zeus?

but persephone said nothing except, “there is nothing to forgive,” the sting of a lie thickening her voice. “i understand.”

even though she most certainly did not understand, for hanami should know better than anyone that persephone was good and pure, and would never actively encourage any of the gods of olympus – or underworld , for that matter – from pursuing her.

she should have known.

and so her apology meant nothing, for it was obviously false.

the fire in persephone’s godly blood was igniting into something foreign, something full of fury, something maybe even ugly, but she didn’t care. not anymore.

demeter knelt down in front of her daughter, pinching her chin and placing a kiss on her brow. “fret not, kore. i will speak with zeus tomorrow when we visit him. let us deal with hades.”

a flash of fear made persephone’s bones tremble at the thought. she very much doubted the power of nature would stand a chance against the underworld and all the death in it, against hades himself.

against ryomen.

with a gust of wind and falling rose petals, demeter vanished into the forest in a purposeful flurry of energy, leaving the shattered pieces of herself for persephone to pick up and put back together. the nymphs peeked out their frightened faces from behind the bushes they had hidden in, taking in persephone’s crumpled figure with a mixture of apprehension and pity. they had been the initial target of demeter’s wrath, for they had failed to keep an eye on their goddess and call for demeter when she was needed.

a mistake they would not be repeating again.

she felt the dark vines of her cage tighten, closing in on her more, and persephone knew it would be rare for her to get any sort of alone time from this moment onwards.

“come,” persephone whimpered, barely above a whisper. “i must tend to the fields.”

she collected herself from the ground, dusting the dirt from herself, and began her familiar walk to the barley fields, with the nymphs trailing not too far behind. the birds were whistling stories of things that had happened in the night, and the bees were flitting about in between the honeysuckle flowers. persephone wished she was one of them; drinking in nothing but sugary sweetness all day, and still being known for her sting.

the mortals kept away from persephone as she worked. they were grateful people, gifting her with more honeycomb and burning incense in her name. she could smell it in the air, a smoky mystery; powerful and deep. her thoughts trailed back to ryomen, and what he had said about the mortals. persephone didn't believe these men would hurt her, but what if they did?

what sort of punishment would defiling a goddess warrant in death? what sort of things would hades do to them if they even so much as touched her?

would he mercilessly set his vicious cerberus on to them, or would he do it himself? relentlessly rip them apart until they were only ribbons of flesh, and suck their blood from his fingers with a grin on his face, only to put them back together and do it all over again.

persephone almost didn’t want to know.

and yet, she did. with a sick and twisted fascination that was a small seedling sprouting inside her.

when the sun almost touched the horizon, persephone wiped her brow and halted the flow of her power into the fields. she was done for the day, bone-weary both emotionally and physically, and wanted nothing more than to be cleansed and taken care of by her nymphs. they were waiting for her at the edge of the fields, still sheltered by the border of the forest. their faces brightened every so slightly at the sight of her, then dipped upon seeing her weariness and sadness. persephone could only manage a half-hearted smile before silently making the trek to the bathing pool.

upon seeing the pool, the nymphs rushed to it, unable to contain their glee. some remained by persephone’s side, gently helping to remove her clothes, and slowly setting her down into the pool. they cupped water between their palms and let it trickle down her hair and ridges of her spine, and cooed and praised her beauty as they washed her.

persephone was only half-listening to them, completely ignoring their gentle kisses to her hair and hands, as white noise gradually became all she could hear. she wanted to drown in white, she thought, as she felt more of her milky tears slip from her eyes. would they fill the pool until it was a deep lake? she imagined she would fall back into it, her vision filled with white as she sank to the bottom lined with blood-red poppies, and demeter would scream and wail as she tried to find her.

an acute silence suddenly snapped persephone out of her escapism.

the birds had stopped twittering, and the nymphs were as still as deer in the face of a hunter. the only movement was the water ripples moving to the edge of the pool as they slowly settled and the water stilled. persephone felt a tingle, her hair raising at the back of her neck. she turned her head over her shoulder, sensing an intruder amongst them.

and there stood hades, doning the same dark toga as before, his dark pupils dilated and blown as he locked eyes with her.

the nymphs squealed and hissed at him, flocking around persephone, gripping and covering her protectively, their nails almost scratching her skin. hades looked down at them, his nose turned up as he ordered darkly, “leave us.”

“no, you are the one who must leave,” one of the nymphs snapped bravely, yet foolishly. “we will call for our goddess, and she will drive you away.”

the earth rumbled loudly, ominously angry, and the nymphs cried out in fear, clinging to persephone. “is that so?” hades smirked before it fell abruptly, and he snarled. “out of respect for persephone, i will not kill you for your insolence. leave us, now.”

his last words were like molten fire, an echo of an ancient power rolling over hills and mountains, the grass and flowers wilting and dying as death touched and halted right before persephone. she gasped as she felt its warmth tenderly caress her face, sliding along her jawline and down to her neck, brushing over her arms crossed over her bare breasts.

the nymphs did not receive such gentle touches of hades’ power, it seemed, as they scrambled away from her, splashing and screaming bloody murder. persephone simply observed their fear, feeling a sort of detachment and almost indifference wash over her.

she knew it was only a matter of time before her mother arrived.

“you’re hurt,” hades remarked, but not unkindly, stepping over fallen tree logs as he made his way closer to her.

she said nothing, remaining perfectly still, hoping the water was deep enough to protect her modesty below, and tightening her arms around herself. he kneeled in front of her, his breath wafting over her damp face. some part of her was still dissociated, her soul drifting above them, looking down, and persephone wasn’t sure if it was because she was frightened or simply not afraid at all.

hades seemed to hesitate for just a moment, and then his fingers were cupping her jaw, gently moving her to each side as he observed the blooming shadows of bruises on her cheeks.

“demeter,” he stated lowly, and it was most certainly not a question, but persephone nodded nonetheless, a snowdrop tear running down her cheek and onto his hand.

crimson anger flashed in all of his eyes, and his jaw tightened and clicked, a sliver of his teeth visible between his lips. her stomach lurched as hades licked her tear from the back of his hand, and he closed his eyes, as if savoring the taste of her on his tongue.

“i must go to olympus tomorrow,” she blurted out suddenly.

hades cracked a single eye open, and it narrowed suspiciously. “what for?”

“zeus wishes to see me. my mother says he misses me,” she replied, moving away from his touch on her jaw and looking down to the side. “and i do not know what it is, but something is… different.”

he sighed deeply, and she gazed back into his eyes as he gripped her chin. “zeus has waited patiently for all this time, but demeter can no longer keep him at bay. he will have his way with you, and soon. he most likely wishes to see you to try and seduce you into his bed.”

persephone felt her heart drop as hades all but confirmed her worst fears. she had some sort of inkling that this would happen eventually, and guessed that her mother had been shielding her from zeus and his urges. however, some naive and childish part of her had hoped that he would remain as her father and cherish her as his daughter forever. her breathing becoming erratic, and her body started to shake as the trees around her started to rustle loudly, heralding the imminent arrival of demeter. hades hushed her softly, cradling both sides of her face now.

“what if i could stop this? ryomen whispered, with a tenderness she didn’t think the god of the dead could ever have possessed, as the tip of his nose touched hers.

persephone blinked rapidly as the wind stung her eyes, utterly perplexed. “you cannot stand against zeus.”

he laughed at this, throwing his head back as if it were the funniest thing in the world. “oh, how you doubt me so, little flower.”

“i don’t understand. what can you do or say against the word of satoru? he is our – your – king?”

“only understand that i am owed, little flower. for fighting with against the titans many centuries ago and faithfully serving my duty in the underworld for all this time. i am owed, and zeus knows this well.”

his thumb stroked her left cheek, and persephone instinctively leaned into his touch. the wind howled louder, and the trees seemed to be screaming at them to tear themselves from each other and run, run, run.

“you are stronger than you know, persephone,” hades murmured, pressing his forehead to hers, as if they were already lovers who had been together for many years. she heard a great thudding noise, like the footsteps of a giant running, and he gripped her a touch tighter. “light that spark again in your eyes, and say you will fight.”

“hades.”

demeter was very close. their time was running out, and persephone instinctively grabbed his hands holding her face. her soul seemed to snap back into place, and her eyes widened as fear seized her. “ryomen,” she gasped, urgency lacing her words. “you must go.”

“not until you say you will fight,” he repeated, steady as a boulder against her trying to push him away, not even budging an inch. “i will save you, but you must give me your word that you will fight until i can reach you.”

“sukuna! how dare you lay your hands upon my daughter?!”

her mother’s voice was like a thousand thundering horses, their hooves smashing into the earth with all the force they could muster. persephone screamed as the trees rocked back and forth, their roots ripping free from the ground and poised to strike hades. as fast as a snake, hades grabbed a root that was a second away from slashing them both, wrenching it in two and hurling it far away. he snarled defiantly as he turned his back to her, glaring into the forest.

“i promise!” persephone exclaimed as her demeter’s figure came into view from the forest, barreling towards them. “ryomen, i promise! please, you must leave.”

hades turned to look at her, with a mad grin and gleaming teeth, as his crimson eyes flashed brightly. with a great swing of his arms, his power came crashing into demeter, sending her flying back deep into the forest. there was an explosion of shadow, only inky blackness seeping into persephone’s eyes and bones, flooding her head with dark whispers and promises.

promises of the dead.

and the dead were known to keep them.

༚༅༚˳✿˳༚༅༚

persephone felt as if she were approaching her death sentence.

the grand halls of olympus were no less than resplendent, with tall white marble columns and lavish golden decorations. the very air was alive with the energy of the gods that dwelled there, and their laughter and music always echoed throughout the pantheon. this place had once felt like home, its splendor familiar and warm, but now it only felt oppressive, like a cage who’s cold bars she had only just registered.

persephone could finally see it for all of its faults and how deep its rotten ugliness actually ran beneath the surface.

she felt her soul detach once again, keeping her numb to everything around her. perhaps it was a defense mechanism, to perhaps keep her fear at bay, or to shield her from feeling too much all at once.

either way, it was a blessing.

demeter was in an uncharacteristically somber mood. persephone had found her mother completely unconscious after hades had used his power against her. when she woke, all her anger had been replaced by a slumped and defeated sort of exhaustion. demeter had spent the night with her, placed beautiful blooms in her hair that morning, and helped her dress to travel to olympus, all the while not saying more than a handful of words.

it seemed as if the goddess of nature had been drained of all life, her petals falling faster, leaving a trail of red behind her, like blood.

it unnerved persephone, who was no longer sure how to act around her mother.

as they entered the dining hall, persephone was first greeted by the sight of a long table draped in white silk and laden with a feast of various meats and salads. the golden goblets of the gods sparkled in the warm, soft afternoon light, no doubt filled with ambrosia and sweet nectar.

and there was zeus, seated at the head of the table, his legs and arms spread comfortably, exuding both carefreeness and power. so assured was he in his authority, absolute as the king of the gods.

“welcome, my daughter!” zeus announced, his booming voice echoing like thunder, his cerulean eyes twinkling with mirth and lightning. “come and join us; we have missed you greatly.”

there was once a time, not so long ago really, that she would have been moved by her father’s words, believing that he truly missed her and loved to spend time with her. but now it was tainted, and all she could think of were hades’ words from last night, and her perfect image of zeus was forevermore ruined.

the olympians were in full attendance, their gazes resting on persephone and demeter, before they all raised their goblets in acknowledgment, then resuming their conversations and merriment. she spied a seat next to artemis and tried to rush over to it as inconspicuously as she could, leaving her mother to take her seat elsewhere.

“persephone!” artemis exclaimed happily, her fierce eyes glinting like the shiny, rich wood of her hunting bow. “it has been too long.”

persephone smiled, feeling a slight weight lift off her shoulders, and embraced her earnestly. “it has, my beautiful huntress.”

maki pulled back, tenderly stroking her cheek before frowning. “you were hurt,” she noted, gently prodding over the places where her bruises had been. “right here, and here.”

she sighed, hoping that artemis would not have noticed at all, for her bruising was all but gone overnight. “fret not, it is healed now.”

“was it a man? a god? tell me who did this, and i shall hunt them down,” artemis vowed, her untamed ferocity blazing forth.

“be at peace, sister,” urged the light voice of apollo, his golden hair rich and radiating with the energy of the sun. “it was neither a god nor a man.”

maki turned to glower at her brother beside her. “then who was it, nanami? do not keep it from me.”

apollo leaned forward in his seat, peering at persephone expectantly with honey-brown eyes. “do you wish me to say? helios has already told me all he has seen.”

persephone hesitated. would it really be wise to expose her mother’s abuse to maki? she shook her head, deciding that it would only escalate the tension with demeter. artemis growled and said no more. she abruptly stood up and stalked off somewhere, her hunting bow in tow, and apollo slid into his sister’s unoccupied seat.

“pay no attention to my sister, kore,” he hummed, strumming his lyre absentmindedly, his voice a beautiful sing-song melody. “would you like me to play you a song? i have thought of something especially for you.”

“since when did you need to ask for permission to play your music, apollo?” persephone asked, reaching out and sipping on a goblet of ambrosia, hyper-aware that demeter had not interrupted them already.

“since i am in the presence of a beautiful blossom such as yourself, i cannot help but seek your approval,” apollo purred, an easy, saccharine grin on his face, and heat rose to the back of her neck.

there was a loud thumping noise across the table, and they both turned to look at hermes, still appearing as an adolescent boy, banging his fists against the table as he gulped down the contents of his goblet.

“now, now, apollo! you are not to pursue persephone. she is promised to another,” he chided, childishly indulging in his own proclaimed self-importance.

apollo raised a brow. “is that so, ui ui? tell me more of this suitor, for helios has seen nothing. he must be possess a certain prowess to avoid the all-seeing sun.”

hermes giggled, his quicksilver tongue mischievously sharp as his gaze knowingly pierced her. “oh, that he does, and he may be among us already, or perhaps not. what say you, persephone?”

she glowered at the young god, saying nothing as he taunted her, and drank more ambrosia. apollo grumbled, plucking the strings of his lyre to play a somewhat fast-paced tune. “ever evasive, hermes. one day, the sun will burn you as you fly.”

hermes cackled, red wine messily dripping down his chin. “i would like to see you try.”

persephone’s mind strayed as the two gods engaged in playful banter, and she further dissociated from her body, merely a spectator in the midst of her family. she could still feel the linger touches of hades’ shadows, promising her that he would come for her. a knot formed in her stomach, both from apprehension and anticipation, as she wondered how the god of the dead intended to keep his word.

she looked up at all the olympians sat at the table, observing them indulging in their feast and flowing ambrosia and wine. apollo and hermes were now playing their music together, their voices harmonizing as they sang about the stars and sun. zeus was heartily clapping along to them, his wife hera watching him with eagle eyes, wearing a bemused smile at her husband’s antics. poseidon sat at zeus’ left, his long silky black hair flowing like a river down his back, his gold trident leaning ominously against his chair.

ares was there, his emerald orbs shining as he gnawed on a meaty rib, his handsome face and raven hair speckled with blood, no doubt having just returned from the heat of battle. all the while, aphrodite was a vision of grace, her long golden hair tumbling perfectly over her exposed back, swaying sensually to the music. persephone dared to steal a glance at demeter, who sat beside hera, wearing a slightly sour expression as she watched the performance.

all these gods have gathered here, feasting and drinking without any care, without any consequences. what is the point of it all?

“are you well, kore?” athena asked softly, pulling persephone from her thoughts. her lavender eyes gazed at her with gentle concern behind a veil of her white hair.

she managed a faint smile. “of course, than-”

“loveliest kore,” an all-consuming voice interjected, and persephone felt two large hands covering her ears as zeus placed a great big kiss on her head. “it has been too long since we have spoken. come, walk with me.”

persephone’s heart pounded, her body instinctively reacting fearfully, but she nodded and rose from her seat. she glanced at her mother, and could sense her concern and growing despair emanating. hera’s gaze bore into her with mixture of suspicion and barely concealed jealousy, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

hera’s punishment for laying with zeus would be almost as horrifying as the actual deed itself.

“excuse us, shoko, my love,” zeus mumbled, pressing a kiss to the back of his wife’s hand, and then urging persephone on with a hand to her lower back.

he led her to a secluded balcony, the music and laughter of the dining hall fading into a faint noise. night had fallen, and it was pleasantly cool. the view of the mortal cities below seemed like a dream, for they appeared so small and far away that they couldn’t be real. persephone shivered as zeus’ broad arm brushed hers, lingering for a moment too long, as he leaned over the balcony.

“you have grown into a remarkable goddess, kore,” he murmured, his tone uncharacteristically low and husky. “i have missed you here on olympus, and i told demeter that you must spend more time here.”

persephone’s discomfort was growing, but she steeled herself, and remained composed. “i’m sorry, father. i should have visited more, but my duties are rather demanding.”

zeus’ eyes darkened just a touch, his snowy hair reflecting starlight, as he moved just a touch closer to her. “your place is here, with your family. with me.”

she felt the full weight of his words and implications bore down on her, causing a sickening sensation in her core. the torches lining the balcony flickered, casting dancing shadows with a nervous energy. she remembered her promise to ryomen, to stand her ground, and so persephone gritted her teeth, steeling herself for what might come next.

zeus reached out and gripped her hand, his thumb rubbing circles. “look at me, kore,” he ordered lowly, squeezing her hand in an attempt to force her attention. “it’s only me, your satoru.”

“i don’t want to,” she whispered, her lip quivering as her body betrayed her, behaving fearful despite feeling almost nothing inside.

“no?” he tilted his head, his expression predatory.

the torches suddenly dimmed, casting the balcony into near inky blackness, save for the light of the moon and stars. the shadows loomed large, a dark mist collecting just a foot away from zeus, who moved into a more protective stance in front of persephone.

a flash of four crimson eyes gleamed between the shadows.

teeth bared in a display of madness and the sort of bravery that only the dead could possess.

“hades,” zeus greeted, his expression morphing into a forced veneer of pleasantness. “how unexpected! what brings you to olympus?”

“brother, i believe we need to have a word,” hades returned, his voice deep and resonating with the power of the earth, cutting straight through the night like an assassins blade.

a blood-red eye locked on persephone, slowly blinking at her as if trying to communicate without speaking. she tried not to show any emotion, even though her very soul was shaking with relief, gradually sinking back into her body as if the god of the dead had decreed that it must return to her.

ryomen is here. he’s here.

zeus’ hand fully slipped from hers as he crossed his arms over his chest. the tension between the two gods crackled, and persephone felt the familiar hum of her father’s power radiating through the air. and still, hades showed not an ounce of fear. his dark essence emanated in rhythmic waves, pushing back against the electric sparks.

“demeter has already asked me to keep you away from kore. are you really ready to challenge me for her, sukuna?” zeus dared, his jaw clenched.

hades’ lips curled into a sly smile. “no, but i do propose a conversation to settle this little… issue.”

the universe seemed to hold its breath for a fleeting moment. then, with a begrudging nod, zeus conceded, motioning for hades to approach. persephone bit her lip, feeling that familiar rush of blood through her veins as the god of the dead stood beside her, as if staking his claim, one of his hands dangerously close to hers. her father pursed his lips disapprovingly.

“well, what do you wish to discuss?” zeus all but growled, his tempestuous nature rapidly wearing down his patience.

hades breathed out, slow and steady. “persephone belongs with me, and i her. long ago, you asked me what i wanted for fighting with you against our father, and i wanted for nothing. and now, brother, still i am owed, and i have come to claim what i want, and it is her.”

persephone’s heart stuttered, and a swarm of butterflies flew in circles in her belly. his words had awakened something deep, something she dared not name just yet. ryomen’s eyes flicked over to her, his features softening just a touch, as if sensing her inner turmoil.

“you dare try to claim her when our sister has forbidden her from you? while she is still under my protection as my daughter?”

“i did not come here as your supplicant, zeus, but as your brother. i will only ask you once for this favor.”

“kore is a goddess of life and growth, and you would only subject her to death and decay. why should i allow you to have her?”

“because i refuse to let her be trapped any longer between you and demeter. she deserves more than that, and far more than either of you could ever give her.”

suddenly, demeter burst through to the balcony, her breathing frantic. “zeus! do not let him take her, brother! please!” she cried, her knees buckling. whirling to face hades, her expression twisted with anger, and she snarled, “you will not take my daughter! she belongs with me.”

lightning bolts lashed through the clouds, and crashing thunder reverberated in the air, ringing through persephone’s ears. “enough of this,” zeus boomed, his rage transforming the sky into a fully fledged storm. “you will not have her, hades. you are never to come near her again, or you shall face the full extent of my wrath.”

hades’ expression turned grave, and he rumbled, “keep her from me, and there shall be consequences.”

“you dare to threaten me, brother?” zeus exclaimed, his brows raised incredulously. “you dare and threaten me here, in my home?”

persephone looked fearfully at hades, who set his dark gaze upon her, the whispers of the dead breathing into her ears as he smirked. with a great clap of his hands, persephone found herself thrown backwards, her senses dulled by a blinding flash of light as a mighty lightning bolt bore down on hades. when she reopened her eyes, her savior had vanished, leaving only a scorched imprint on the marble balcony where he had stood just moments before.

“demeter, take kore and leave here,” zeus ordered, his tone dangerous and leaving no room for argument. “find artemis and order her to keep watch over our daughter. she is never to leave her sight, is that understood?”

persephone stumbled dumbly, her breath catching in her throat as she stared transfixed at the spot where hades had been, the echoes of thunder still reverberating through the air. demeter huffed impatiently as she swept persehone into her arms, whisking her away from zeus and his almighty anger. the dining room was deathly quiet, all the chairs empty and abandoned, as the other olympians had scattered, knowing all to well that the jovial feast was over.

she rolled her head back, the ground passing swiftly beneath her, her mother’s feet thudding against the ground in a swift, determined rhythm. artemis’ loyal dogs had materialized, their fur glinting in the moonlight as they ran ahead and behind them, the pack forming a coordinated and protective circle around them as they descended back to the mortal realm.

was this it?

was this ryomen’s mighty stand against zeus?

it seemed that whatever his grand plan had been, it had failed.

persephone’s heart cracked in two.

༚༅༚˳✿˳༚༅༚

from then on, the days were dull and dreadfully monotonous.

persephone moved through her days like a ghost, her soul roaming the skies high above her, and it had not landed since she had been to olympus. every morning, she awoke to the feeling of metaphorical vines tightening around her throat, binding her tighter to the life demeter wanted her to live.

she never smiled, not anymore. not even to artemis, who looked at her with such palpable pity that it was almost unbearable. the huntress never left her side, watching over her as she tended to the barley fields, her hounds sniffing and growling at the onlooking mortals. even during the night, maki dutifully kept her vigil, silently keeping watch against the encroaching shadows. and still, despite her dearest friend’s constant, heavy presence, persephone’s despair was ever-growing.

demeter visited almost every day, always arriving during the night. sometimes, she would sleep with her amongst the nymphs, one hand reaching out to persephone as if zeus himself might descend from olympus to steal her away, or as if she might run away and disappear into her dreams.

and oh, how persephone wanted to do just that.

she would dream of ryomen and his deep crimson eyes, a reverie of passion. he had shown her just a little taste of what it was to live as she pleased, and although persephone was shy to admit it even to herself, she missed him – fiercely. she missed that comforting rumble in his voice, and the way all of his eyes looked at her as if she were the most precious thing to him. persephone’s heart ached with longing every time she woke, the sort of pain that carved out a hollow space inside her, one she felt that only ryomen could ever fill.

but she was an empty vessel for all the flowers and seeds she had ever grown, always giving and giving, never able to take anything for herself to fill that hole.

miraculously, there had been no word from zeus, but persephone knew it was only a matter of time. sometimes, in the dead of the night, with only the sounds of the nymphs soft snores and crickets chirping under the light of the fireflies, she imagined what it would be like with hades. the thought ignited ignited a low thrum in her core, making her lower stomach flutter with pleasure.

the dreams started soon after that.

dreams of the underworld. of ryomen holding her in his arms, his bare skin flush against hers, tenderly kissing her neck and shoulder. of him telling her that she was the only one for him, that it was always her, and how he had been waiting for her his whole life. how his hand would drift lower and lower, tracing little circles and swirls down her navel, and…

persephone would always wake up at that point.

and she’d be in a crimson hue of deaths essence, thinking about how much he must have loved her to try and bargain with zeus for her, even going so far as to threaten him. persephone’s heart would flutter with warmth, but she kept her sudden happiness hidden, lest artemis would sense her desire and raise a questioning brow at her.

perhaps if i close my eyes and imagine it is ryomen instead of zeus, it won’t be so bad.

until a cold splash of ice-cold water doused over her head, and persephone was painfully reminded that she hadn’t seen him in so long. consumed in a fit of petulant anger, she wondered how could ryomen have forgotten her so easily. had she not meant that much to him after all? perhaps she was just a passing whim to him, in the same way that zeus had many.

surprisingly, but bitterly nonetheless, she thought that maybe demeter was right.

that the gods of olympus – and the underworld, it seemed – were fickle and untrustworthy.

one afternoon, after once again dreaming of hades and the underworld, persephone woke up in a fluster. deciding not be caught up in the rose haze of her fantasies, she maneuvered out from amidst the nymphs, who had gone for a nap to escape the heat of the sun. artemis was nowhere to be seen, but persephone knew she could not be far, for her hounds were resting closely to them and keeping a watchful eye.

one of the nymphs stirred, slowly sitting up and rubbing away the sleep from her eyes. “kore, where are you going?”

persephone angled her face away from the nymph and rolled her eyes. “i want to bathe. it is far too hot.”

the nymph gracefully stood up, rousing a few of the others with her, and together they all went to the bathing pool, with the ghost of artemis’ shadow following through the treeline. they gently lowered persephone into the water, cleansing her body and hair, while she struggled to keep her thoughts from drifting towards hades.

“your ichor runs hot, kore,” one of the nymphs hummed thoughtfully, rubbing the pads of her fingers deep into persephone’s scalp. “why are you so flushed?”

persephone remained silent, her attention firmly fixed on the hounds circling the pool, while the nymphs continued their ministrations.

“you are aroused, kore,” one of the nymphs whispered intimately into her ear, so low so that the others couldn’t hear. “i know these things. who is it you think of? the lightning god, zeus, hmm?”

she made a face of disgust, and the nymph giggled, almost a little too knowingly, her eyelashes fluttering not so innocently. the nymph sensually trailed her fingers down persephone’s arm. “but of course, death has you in his clutches, and you do not want to be let go of, do you?”

“enough,” persephone snapped, whirling to glare at her as her godly blood flushed once again.

the nymph did not taunt her anymore, and after they had finished washing her, persephone took off towards her pomegranate tree, all but growling at them to leave her be. artemis stepped forward from between the trees, the curve of her bow gleaming in the golden light of the hour, her hounds bounding freely through the grass, snapping playfully at each other. she said nothing to the huntress, something her dearest maki had probably come to expect by now, for persephone spoke very little at all these days.

she laid down in the long grass in front of her tree, little daisies tickling the supple skin of her shins, and set about weaving a flower crown made of narcissus. a hound bravely flopped down in front of her, its heavy, wet tongue lolling from between its fangs, rolling into its back and exposing its belly to her.

“that one likes you,” maki commented, a rare softness in her tone. when persephone didn’t reply, she sighed, setting her bow leaning against the tree trunk. “persephone, what is wrong?”

“you already know, maki,” she muttered, piercing the stem of a flower with her fingernail.

artemis shook her head disappointingly. “i only wish to keep you safe from hades. this has all been necessary to ensure that, but that does not mean that i enjoy it.”

persephone ignored her, deftly continuing to weave the stems together, to which maki huffed. it was unwise to antagonize the goddess of the hunt, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. she decided to indulge in the fleeting sense of rebellion that seemingly stemmed from her youth as a young goddess.

she held out the crown, both admiring and critiquing her own handiwork. it needed a crowning jewel, persephone decided – a large and most beautiful blossom to be placed right in the center.

when she looked up, there it was.

the most ethereal narcissus blossom stood proudly in the middle of the meadow, with petals so vibrantly yellow they were almost pure gold. it was complete perfection, the most gorgeous bloom she had ever seen.

persephone clutched her crown tightly, her heart racing as she sprinted towards the blossom. it seemed to sing to something within her, a haunting song she hadn’t heard for an age. the grass beneath her feet seemed to urge her on, whispering words of encouragement. artemis watched her with a furrowed brow, a scowl etched on her face as she ripped clumps of dirt from the earth.

the universe went eerily still as her fingers gripped the stem.

artemis pricked her head up, her hounds suddenly bristling and alert.

the earth let out a mighty groan and trembled, a deep rumble reverberating through the meadow as it trembled beneath her. persephone screamed as the ground split open and rocks cracked and gave way under her weight. the very earth seemed to be opening its jaws, yawning wide to swallow her whole.

this is it, this is my death.

until she found herself ensnared in a scorching embrace, her ear pressed against the warm, bare skin of a chiseled chest. persephone couldn’t move, the steady heartbeat of death soothing her.

“oh, persephone,” ryomen rumbled, his lips pressed into her hairline, his words laced with a desperate sort of affection. “my love, my life. how i have missed you so.”

he pressed quick kisses to her forehead, as if every one could say all the things he wanted to say. “why did you leave me for so long?” persephone couldn’t help but ask, her voice cracking like marble. “i thought you had left me forever.”

a swoosh of an arrow sliced through the air, and with a speed she had never seen before, hades caught it with his bare hand, its wood splintering as he crushed it. persephone heard artemis’ hounds howling, and the huntress’ threatening shouts at the god of the death, unflinching and unwavering. hades’ black stallions snorted and pawed the ground, his menacing obsidian chariot glinting in the sun.

“my love,” he cooed, cradling her face with two hands and forcing her to look deep into his ruby eyes. “i am ashamed of that, but i am here now to break you free from your cage.”

persephone reeled, shock gripping her in its cold clutches. “i– but zeus has forbidden us from each other. there would be war.”

“then let there be war,” he hissed, then quickly softened, tenderly rubbing her cheek with his thumbs. “come with me persephone. let me give you a crown of bones that can never die like your flowers. be my queen, be my wife.”

she paused, sucking in a breath.

could persephone really do such a thing? did she have the strength to not only disobey her mother, but zeus as well?

ryomen bent his neck down closer to her ear and whispered, “are you afraid?”

“no,” she replied as steadily as she could, wetting her lips with her tongue. “i could never be afraid of you.”

another arrow whizzed past dangerously closer to his ear, his curls fluttering as the wind from it rushed through, and still hades did not flinch. he smiled softly, kissing between her brows. “then say you will stay with me, my sweet flower. let me give you the power you were born to wield.”

persephone nodded slowly, the gravity of her decision weighing heavily on her, but there was not an ounce of hesitation that it wasn’t the right one. with a great grin on his face, hades cracked a magnificent whip and his stallions lurched forward deep into the earth, as artemis screamed promises of vengeance.

she didn’t care.

as the earth swallowed them both, the golden sun disappearing entirely and the first glimpse of the underworld came into view, all persephone could feel was an astounding sense of just one emotion.

freedom.

༚༅༚˳✿˳༚༅༚

persephone had finally blossomed into full bloom, unfurling her radiant petals to show the world that she was a goddess after all.

the underworld had not subjected her to death and decay as zeus had once predicted. instead, she flourished into who she was always meant to be. ryomen had always seen persephone for who she was, even before she saw it herself, and he had only helped her flourish. he had declared that she was not bound to a singular fate of a lowly wood nymph, but rather embrace duality as both a goddess of nature and queen of the underworld.

they had married the very same day persephone descended into his domain, their union blessed by hecate, or uraume, as hades often fondly referred to them as. persephone’s days were then spent in a wondrous bubble of discovery, wandering through the underworld with uraume as her guide, learning all its secrets and inner workings. then, when she felt ready, she judged the souls of the dead alongside her husband, sitting atop his lap as if he were her throne. together, they would listen to the pleas of all that stood trial before them, with persephone running her fingers through his curls, and the unyielding god of the underworld would allow it.

their nights together were tender and vulnerable, both of them baring themselves to each other with all their faults and discretions in plain view. and still, it was full of love and acceptance. persephone would never change her husband’s ways, just as ryomen would never try to tell her how to live her life.

the god of the dead was true; his love steadfast and searing with passion, nothing at all like the cold fickleness of the olympians.

persephone didn’t know how long she had been in the underworld, and she didn’t care to count. there were no mealtimes to mark the passing of the day, for there was no need to eat in the underworld, and hades was vehemently against her ever eating a thing. instead, she marked the passage of time whenever they retired to their bed, where she lay in his arms, talking about everything and anything at all.

“ryo, why do you not allow me to eat?” persephone finally asked him, her curiosity getting the better of her, tracing her fingers over the strange black markings on his biceps.

hades sighed, one of his hands gently squeezing her thigh. “because… it would bind you forever to me.”

“but we are already husband and wife,” she rebuked, frowning. “we are bound through our vows to each other.”

“this is different, my love. you would be chained to the underworld as i am, and you could never leave it.”

“would that be so terrible? i never want to be parted from you.”

“it would. i do not wish for you to be in another cage, even if it is with me, and even if i also wish for you to always be at my side.”

hades gently maneuvered her beneath him, his crimson eyes trailing over her body. “let us not speak of such things anymore, persephone,” he murmured, planting kisses along her bare chest.

she was then lost in a haze of pleasure, and they spoke no more of it.

until one fateful day, when the air carried the taste of snow and change, hermes paid a visit to the rulers of the dead.

“your mother has covered all the land in frost and ice in her grief,” the young god solemnly said, staring straight at persephone, his very hair seemingly touched by the very same cold he spoke of. “the people of greece are suffering.”

persephone shifted uncomfortably on ryomen’s lap, and her husband’s grip on her hips tightened. “do not try to guilt my wife as if demeter’s actions are hers,” hades growled at the messenger of the gods.

“the people of greece are suffering,” hermes continued defiantly, his head bowed and all traces of his usual mischief gone. “the very essence of nature is dying. everything you have toiled to ever grow is dying, oh queen of the dead.”

her bottom lip trembled, and her eyes glistened with a milky white sheen of tears that threatened to spill as persephone’s body tensed in an effort to control her whirling emotions. ryomen hushed her softly, his hand gently stroking her back, as if he could sense her anguish.

“it is my fault,” she whispered, more so to ui ui than hades. “it is my fault my mother thinks i have perished, and nature is now doomed to die because of my decision.”

hermes shook his head, his face crumbling with regret. “it pains me to bring you this news, but zeus has instructed me to carry this message to you both.”

“a message from zeus?” hades snapped questioningly, his breath hot against persephone’s ear. “he knows she is here?”

“helios witnessed persephone descend with you into the underworld, but he has kept this knowledge to himself for a time, as he knew you had not kidnapped her. but now, the earth is dying, and the people pray and cry for mercy.”

hermes took a deep breath before continuing. “and so helios has told zeus of what has transpired, for the sake of the mortals. demeter cannot accept that her daughter has chosen death over life. she refuses to cease the endless winter until persephone is returned to her at once.”

the ground rumbled, and persephone could feel her husband’s anger growing as her guilt did. her heart tore as she thought of the golden fields she had so carefully tended, now withering and buckling under the weight of an unnatural winter. she thought of the mortals, who had so kindly offered her honeycomb and incense, always praying to her for fertility of the land and womb. she thought of her mother, whom despite everything, persephone still loved deeply. she could not begin to imagine the sort of pain hanami must be enduring since her disappearance.

“i do not wish to cause you this sort of pain, persephone,” ui ui said earnestly, a hand over his heart. “you already know that i have kept your secret for these past six months.”

six months…

“what does it matter if the mortals are dying?” hades grunted, waving a dismissive hand, leaning back against his throne. “the more souls that reside in our realm, the stronger we are. zeus knows this.”

hermes’ face scrunched up in discomfort. “zeus… acknowledges that fact, and he is imploring for you both to see reason.”

has it really been six months?

“reason?” hades scoffed. “riddle me this then, trickster. is it reason or jealousy that drives my brother to ask me to give up my wife, hmm?”

“he knows not that you are married, so let me help you strike a bargain with the god of lightning,” hermes proposed, his hand ominously disappearing into the folds of his toga.

he procured a whole pomegranate in his palm, holding it out to them both like some sort of salvation. persephone sucked in a breath, and hades stiffened, his muscles hardening into marble at the sight, as if he were almost afraid of it.

she knew that fruit; it was from her tree.

“i offer you a choice t-”

“you overstep, hermes,” hades hissed, recoiling and ready to strike. “you do not offer her a choice, only to lock her in a cage with me.”

“stay calm, ryomen,” persephone finally interjected, her voice but a mere drop in a turbulent ocean of salt and sorrow. “what if this is the only way?”

ryomen’s gaze snapped towards her, a whirlwind of confusion and unmistakable panic in his eyes. “what way, persephone? i will not have you bound to only this realm. it would just be another cage.”

“but it wouldn’t be a cage if i was willing. it is you, after all,” she returned, tears of pearls running down her cheeks.

“my love, my sweet flower, you would only resent me after a time,” he whispered reverently, his forehead touching hers. “and i would rather be thrown into the depths of tartarus than have you hate me.”

six months…

“please, then let me do what i believe is right,” persephone implored desperately, her fists clenching his toga. “you promised me that you would let me be free to do as i wish.”

persephone watched on as her beloved, her ryomen sukuna, seemed to wage a war within himself. his deep ruby eyes, usually so alight with a stout sort of resoluteness, were now a tempest of uncertainty. lines were etched deep into his forehead like scratchings on a stone carving, and each fleeting change of emotion spoke volumes of how much he was struggling.

until the god of the dead finally crumpled, his shoulders growing slack, and his entire demeanor going so very still.

“do what you must, my love. my soul cannot refuse you, nor can it stand to limit you,” his voice quivered with raw emotion, heavy and unbearably low with defeat.

persephone kissed the bridge of his nose, a salty tear landing on her husband’s cheek, and slowly, agonizingly, untangled herself from his tight embrace. she strode towards hermes, the gold jewelry adorning her arms and neck – opulent gifts that ryomen frequently showered her with – clinking as she did so.

the messenger of the gods quirked his eyebrow expectantly, and he further extended the pomegranate towards her, its smooth skin reflecting the dim light of the underworld. her fingers itched to reach out and touch it, a mixture of longing and dread washing over her.

persephone wasn’t sure whether or not to grasp it or run far away from it.

she cleared her throat and thoughts, and asked, “what sort of bargain would ever stand with zeus?”

“i propose this to you, loveliest persephone,” hermes began, cracking open the pomegranate in his little hands. “you have spent six wonderful months with your husband, and so your mother is owed six months in return.”

anger flashed in her irises, and the ground shook once more. “you are full of mischief, ui ui. you speak so very boldly for your age.”

ui ui seemed to shirk in shame, curling into himself ever so slightly, as he removed six ruby gems of pomegranate seeds from the shell of the fruit. “i propose a bold claim, and therefore i must speak in the same manner.”

“well, what is it then?”

“eat six of these seeds to bind yourself to the realm of the dead. you will be forced to return to your husband for six months of the year, and there will be nothing zeus nor demeter can do about it. i will go to olympus and inform them of what you have done, and will say that you threaten to eat another six seeds if zeus does not vow to never touch you while you are away from hades.”

thorns grew beneath the soles of persephone’s feet, her ichor and power manifesting its detestation over the injustice of it all, a painfully silent protest against the weight of the choices before her.

how could she possibly make a decision to willingly leave her husband for half the year?

she couldn’t. she wouldn’t.

but could i abandon the golden crops of my labor to die because of my choices?

behind her, she could sense ryomen’s grief growing wildly – a sorrowful groan echoing through the earth as it responded to his pain.

ui ui grabbed persephone’s hand, dropping the seeds into her palm, and curled her fingers to cover them. “i never wished for you to ever be in pain. i have always thought of you very fondly, and i hate for you to be coerced into such unfair choices.”

she unfurled her fingers, staring down at the glimmering gems from her tree as if they beheld all the answers of the universe.

“you have much to learn, ui ui, as do i,” persephone murmured, her voice suddenly imbued with all the wisdom of the gods before her.

she had grown this tree from a mere seedling to what it was now. how could she have not noticed that it had always revealed the true nature of her soul? it had always known her intimately, as its branches curved and tilted towards the earth, and persephone had never understood why it had until now.

it had always been guiding her.

persephone looked over her shoulder at her husband, her ears sinking as she took in ryomen’s crushed posture. he was stooped over, a pair of arms crossed protectively over his chest, the other pair gripping his throne in support.

persephone hated how utterly exposed he looked.

“but you must always know to listen to your heart,” she said, her voice steeling as her ichor pulsed in her veins. “know that it cannot lead you astray from what is right for yourself.”

with a tip of her head, persephone pressed her palm to her mouth, the seeds falling between her teeth. she bit down slowly, their burst of tart yet sweet flavor spreading over her tongue, their red juice staining her lips and trickling down her chin in rivulets. her husband stirred, and she felt her soul meld with his, intertwining and caressing each other as persephone sealed her fate.

two gold strings tied together, shimmering threads of destiny, never to be undone until the end of time.

༚༅༚˳✿˳༚༅༚

taglist: @tadabzzzbee @wannapizzamymindposts @stromynight

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jaxon-exe · 2 years ago

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Dp x dc prompt

So this starts with Danny becoming the ghost king on his 18th birthday and almost immediately every power-hungry ghost in existence starts proposing to him. At first he just ignores it but after the 10th time someone tries to kidnap him to marry him Greek god style, he’s fucking sick of it and goes to Clockwork for help.

He’s not much help. The only way for other people to stop trying to marry him is if he’s already married. What’s more, because he’s the king of the infinite realms, it has to be someone that’s considered a citizen of the Infinite Realms. (Like he can marry someone that’s still alive but they wouldn’t count and people will just keep trying to marry him) CW also warns him that people will try and kill anyone he marries if they can so a living person isn’t really ideal. The only bit of real helpfulness he does provide is a list of non-evil non-power-hungry citizens so he can have an easier time finding someone.

So Danny takes the list and starts crossing of names (like Johnny, even tho the guy won’t abuse the power of being the ghost princess, kitty would kill Danny for good this time) when he comes across the perfect candidate.

Jason Todd (Robin/Red Hood)

He’s been to Gotham before, knows the Robins all do good work and knows the Red Hood is already a good and fair ruler of his criminal underground. Plus the guy could definitely fight off any ghost trying to kill him even without the power boost and some helpful weapons Danny would give him if he agrees. Plus he has the perfect bargaining chip to get the guy to help by offering to fix the corrupted ectoplasm in him (not that he wasn’t gonna do that anyway when he had the time to but Hood didn’t need to know that)

So Danny hops over to Gotham and after quickly getting permission from Lady Gotham (she’s very protective of her Knights) heads over to crime ally and pitches the idea to Red Hood.

Which basically goes like-

Danny: so I give u, the title of prince, access to the Infinite Realms whenever u wish, a sweet private wing in my castle, any of the op ghost weapons in the castles armoury and a fix for ur rage problems and u marry me so I stop getting people trying to propose to me in increasingly more annoying ways :)

Jason, a literature geek with a secret desire to be the protagonist in a shitty YA romance: u had me at Prince

So the two of then jump over to the Infinite Realms to get married thinking it’ll take 30 minutes top only to learn that CW left out that a Royal wedding has to take at minimum a week otherwise no one will consider the Marriage valid. So the two, not backing out at this point, join in on the week of parties and celebrations without putting much more thought into it.

Meanwhile back in Gotham, after not having Red Hood check in after his patrol, Oracle searches CCTV and finds Jason having a conversation with a figure that is glitching out the camera to much to identify them, then the figure seemingly grabs Jason and drags him into a portal and the two of them disappear.

So obviously the Batfam comes to the conclusion that Jason was kidnapped by some sort of magical being and calls in John. He identify the magic as that of the ghost king’s and has been hearing that the king had been looking for a bride so comes to the conclusion that Jason has been kidnapped Persephone style to be be married and is under the (wrong) conclusion that it will mean Jason can’t leave the realm of the death after.

And so the Batfam + Constantine start planing to crash a wedding.

#dp x dc #danny fenton #jason todd #jason x danny #dead on main #batfam #Danny and Jason r basically Hades and Persephone #at least in the Batfam a POV #jason is having the time of his life #fake dating #kinda???#more like marriage for tax benefits

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oneforthemunny · 2 months ago

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reading the rockstar!eddie saga and absolutely ENTHRALLED omg

seeing nb with her babies makes me think of that tiktok where the mum is trying to teach the baby to say “mama” by pointing to herself and going “mama ✨✨😇😇” and a photo of the dad and gong “father 🥱😑😡” “mama✨😇😇’s husband🥱😑😡” (apologies if you have not seen it, i hope i provide the imagery necessary)

it’s just so her core to me like i feel like they would get SO competitive over who gets the first word they probably keep a damn tally of which kids said who first and everything.

i have not seen it but i shall proceed bc this is so cute. they would be so competitive i feel it lol. i have to share a little blurby moment of them being competitive. genuinely just fluff ahead. our fav rockstar!eddie and nb!reader being silly and in love with baby persephone, also features sephy's first word bc i got carried away.

"Sephy, look at me, baby angel," You cooed, your finger tapping at your lips, her bright brown eyes blinking over with a happy gurgle.

"Look say Ma-Ma." You annunciated each word, lips moving slow so she could watch, just the way the parenting books told you to.

Persephone only gurgled, tiny hands reaching out to wrap around your hair, tug you back down with a shrill of giggles when you'd wince in pain- an entirely Eddie Munson trait.

You took her little hands in yours, letting her fingers curl around your thumb gently. "Ma-Ma. M-M-M, look can you say, Mama?"

Sephy's lips smacked, and for a moment, you thought she might actually say it, that you'd be victorious. A spit filled hum was all that came instead.

"Ma-ma. Mama, mama, mama!" Your voice lilted, high and exaggerated, fully animated in a way that you hoped would capture her attention.

"Give it up, baby." Eddie scoffed lightly from the doorway, his hair still wet from the shower, shirtless in a pair of sweats that hung low on his hips. "She's not interested in saying that, are you, Sephy-girl?"

Eddie knelt beside you, ignoring your frown while Persephone reached out for him, legs kicking with excitement. "She's gonna say Da-da first, aren't you? Da-da." Eddie grinned, pressing his nose to hers gently.

In all honesty, you knew he was probably right. Persephone was such a daddy's girl, it would only be fitting that he'd be her first word. Still, you were determined. You'd carried her for nine months, done all the heavy lifting- she already looked just like Eddie, she couldn't have her first word be him too.

"Get outta here." You clicked your tongue, shoving him with your shoulder.

"So rude. We're having girl time. No boys allowed." You declared, picking Persephone up gently, bouncing her in your arms, peppering kisses on her baby fat filled cheek until she squealed with giggles.

Eddie thought his heart might burst right then and there. Every day he felt that way, and every day he was shocked at how it didn't; when Sephy was so cute, and you were such a good mom. He could melt into a puddle at the thought.

"Eh, you just want her all to yourself so you can corrupt her." Eddie shook his head, reaching for Persephone. That little traitor reached for him back, grabby hands and all. If it wasn't so adorable, it would leave you hurting.

"Say that's not fair, Mama. No it's not." Eddie baby talked, swaying with Persephone in his arms.

"Say life's not fair, father." You narrowed your eyes back at him, brow lifting with a challenge.

"Father?" Eddie scoffed, gawking at you lightly. "Oh, we're really playing dirty, are we?"

"I always play dirty, Munson, you should know that by now." Your lips rolled around a smirk, lashes batting up at him just for a moment, before you tickled Sephy's belly gently, cooing at her.

"Oh, sweetheart, you just declared war." Eddie's tongue rolled over his cheek. "You know that? You ready to go to battle?"

"Eddie's sooo silly, isn't he?" You babbled at Sephy, shaking your head gently. "He thinks he's scary. I was in labor for sixteen hours and da- father still thinks he's scarier than me. That's crazy."

Eddie's chest filled with a rush of a feeling he still didn't know how to describe. It first began when he met you, and since then, it had only grown since the wedding, since Persephone- complete adoration and awe mixed with utter contentment and a bit of possessiveness?

"That's fine." Eddie shrugged, lips tightening in a line to hide his grin that fought to break through. "I don't need to play dirty to win."

"Because you're not gonna win. No, you're not." You cooed, poking Sephy's tummy lightly. "Because Sephy loves Ma-ma, and Ma-ma is gonna be her very first word, and Ma-ma is gonna win. Yes, she is."

Persephone screeched, her little baby screech of laughter that left you both wincing a little, giggly at her little personality. She was growing so much every day, becoming her own little person. Neither one of you could think about it too much without becoming emotional.

The rest of the night was spent with the both of you going back and forth, a battle of the "Mama's" and "Dada's" until Persephone got annoyed, face scrunching with a tired cry- a trait Eddie swore came straight from you.

"Mama does the same thing when she's cranky, Sephy." Eddie cooed, swaying her gently, walking her towards the bathroom for her nightly bath.

You turned to glare at him, turning on the faucet with an eye roll. Persephone whined, rubbing her teary face in Eddie's neck. "You're just like your Mama, aren't you?" Eddie grinned at you, tossing you a wink that had you flushing with heat.

Persephone looked up at him, big brown eyes blinking. "Mama swears you're like Dada, but you're just like her."

"Please, look in the mirror." You scoffed, running your hand under the water to test it, head jerking over your shoulder towards the vanity. "That's your twin. I birthed a mini Munson."

Eddie laughed, turning with Persephone to look in the mirror. "I said act," Eddie snickered lightly. "You look just like Dada, but you act just like Mama, don't you?"

Persephone ignored his kisses, craning to look over Eddie's shoulder at you, hands reaching out towards you, annoyed that your back was turned to her. A small whine came again, lips smacking around a cry.

"Hold on, Sephy, Mama's getting the bath all ready for you." Eddie swayed her, turning so she could see you easier.

Persephone was not impressed, giving a teary scowl that did mirror yours entirely. A half-hearted cry fell from her lips, reaching out for you again, babbling around a whine.

"Hey, you done with me now?" Eddie frowned dramatically, bouncing the baby to try and soothe her. "Oh, you just want Mama now? Done with me?"

"Just a second, baby, I'm almost done." You cooed over your shoulder, anchoring the bather, pressing on it to test it. "Ed, can you undress her?"

"Yeah, I think she's gonna cry though if you don't look at her, babe." Eddie bounced Persephone lightly, trying to soothe her angry grunts and babbles. "She wants you."

"Mama's almost done." You wiped your hand on the towel, looking at Persephone over your shoulder. "Shit, her towel is in her nursery."

It happened in a split second, your hand on the door knob, just barely stepping through the doorframe towards the nursery.

"Mama!"

The word clearly rang through the bathroom, straight to where you were. You and Eddie both froze, wide eyed and holding your breath in disbelief. Unfortunately, the excited screeches you both gave only made Persephone cry more, but you'd take it- you had won. Sephy's very first word was Mama. You and Eddie both had never been so proud.

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obxsprincess · 1 year ago

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Okay but I read somewhere on here that Luke def has a corruption kink and I can’t stop thinking about it

Like I can’t

oh he definitely definitely does !! imagining my version of dark!luke with this so warnings for that love bugs <3

———⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

he loved your sweet, delicate pureness. how you watched over the younger campers n braided flowers in their hair, when you broke the camps dress code by wearing those pretty little skirts n tying the t-shirts just to make them a bit tighter around yourself

and your personality was oh soo teeth-rotting sweet. fragile smiles n batting lashes, it was like you were begging to be his.

you were the daughter of persephone, how could he not imagine you on your knees before him?? n your skirts scrunched around your middle?? your glistening cunt and puffy pretty clit??

it was only some time until you were his :(( fingering you n stuffing himself between your thighs was one thing !! it wasn’t impure right ?? … until you were here

“l-luke wa-it! what will the gods think? n’if we get ca-” your shaking n squirming, his large hands prying your legs open

“why does it matter baby? since when have they ever cared about shit, they don’t care bout’us, m’kay?”

your mouth was all dry as he pumps his twitching cock, kneeling right above your tummy, like he was getting off by your inexperience

“o-k, your right—”

“good girl, princess. but the person we can’t get caught by is chiron,”

“mhm” your so nervously nodding n your eyes fluster closed as he leans down, his breath smothering your face as you feel lacy fabric fill your mouth

you yelp surprised n confused, words all muffled

“so I gotta keep my girl quiet,”

you suddenly realize it’s your lace adorned panties, stuffed in your mouth like his own personal play thing

n he grips your jaw, closing your hung open mouth n pushing his tongue in. the taste of your wetness blurry and strange to your senses

you whimper when you feel his cock probe agaisnt your tight cunt

“fuck, look how messy you are for me. m’gonna fill you up okay pretty girl? than you’ll really be mine,” his n his to corrupt.

his hips rolled agaisnt yours-

“mhpm a-auh luke!” the feeling is painful n new n hes groaning, but your whines are trapped. only whimpers leaving your strawberry stained lips with your nails clawing at his back from the mere size of him-

“goddd- baby. auh fuck so good for me, so tight-” you feel every inch his cock slides into you. your puffy, drooling walls squeezing around the burning stretch-

“just think how mad this is going to make the gods, its part of our revenge sweetheart”

his words make you jolt, squirming underneath him but the delicious pleasure was beginning to fog your pure, n suddenly cock drunk head

“b-ut you said!-” his cock pushes into you in deep. mind melting thrusts

“shhhh, let me take care of you. fuckkk- your so sweet, too good for this fucking camp.”

warm tears of sudden realization of what being his really meant fell down your soft skin. n his lips found those too

“auhh princess look at you- you, this beautiful body. s’my destiny to be your first fuckk your pussys so perfect— don’t you think the gods know that by now? that they will”

———⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

#dark!luke #luke castellan prompt #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan smut #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan pjo #pjo luke #pjo smut #luke castellan x y/n

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theatricalmage · 1 year ago

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The brainrot took over and so here's a vat7k hadestown au!! Don't know if I'll develop it fully but I liked designing it at least!

More info under the cut:

- Varian, the Coronan royal alchemist, tasks himself with deciphering an incantation capable of bringing the world back into tune. Times are tough, and the royal family + Quirin are doing their best to cope with the meagre crop yields and desolate weather (Corona not really being the sunshine kingdom - hasn't been for a while). He wants to help and do good and I think he'd be a good Orpheus.

- Hugo, having moved about from place to place, still has his interest in alchemy and does what he can to get by. He plans on temporarily staying in Corona before looting, but he encounters a certain like-minded scientist at the Snuggly Duckling. I think him being selfish works especially well in Eurydice's role, having a more pessimistic view of the world. It also works with how he gets drawn to Donella's offer of working for her later on, leading him to his death.

- Ulla as Persephone! I was initially stuck on whether to have Rapunzel (and either Eugene/Cass) as her (and Hades) but I was drawn to the connection that Hugo has to Donella and the Donella/Ulla relationship in vat7k just works too well. In this case, Ulla won't be Varian's mother. She's still gonna be somewhat of an inspiration to him though, being the previous Coronan royal alchemist and for her intelligence. For half the year, she'll return to Corona with food, drinks, and alchemical compounds/inventions, bringing Spring and Summer to the world, if only for a bit.

- Donella would be such an interesting Hades, losing sight of her love for Ulla, heart filled with fear and hurt, leading to bitterness and cruelty. Ingvarr being Hadestown and how by being the esteemed Ingvarrian engineer, she'd be in charge of major technological advances across the kingdoms and so would wield a significant amount of power (like how Hades is literally the ruler of the underworld). Ingvarr essentially being a near death sentence for its workers while also displaying its technological prowess, all still shrouded in mystery and corruption - a place so otherworldly compared to the rest of the kingdoms.

I didn't want to modify the outfits too much nor the personalities,, if anything I imagine the general plot beats being the same as the original musical/story but with slight differences that'd you get inherently as a result of these characters. I wouldn't want it to be the case where it's just the show but the names are changed. I'd want this to still make reasonable sense in this AU, with the actions being understandable for this particular cast of characters.

For Hermes, I ended up picking Xavier, as he's most knowledgeable of old legends and stories, which would work in reference to the Hades and Persephone myth (and so Donella and Ulla)! He'd act as a mentor figure for V, someone who can guide him in uncovering the forgotten incantation. Quirin would still be the good supportive dad he is (even if he doesn't fully understand his son's project).

Last but not least, the fates!! often lurking in the background, I'm still a bit stuck on who it could be? I'm tempted to have it be Raps, Cass, and Nuru as they've had celestial connections at some point (and ya know how stars can represent fate), but I also love the freckled siblings dynamic so much. Also Team Radical... Maybe Raps and Cass can be their normal selves but their Sundrop/Moonstone counterparts are the manifested physical forms of the fates? They wouldn't be visible to the characters though, just voices in the wind.

Anyways yeah!! Those are my thoughts. Do let me know if you've got any cool ideas or questions. I'm really combining my interests at full force and there's nothing anyone, not even myself, can do about it quite frankly. 😮‍💨

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notapradagurl7 · 9 months ago

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By Your Side.

BlackFem!Witch!Reader x Terry Wizard!Richmond from Netflix film Rebel Ridge.

Taglist: @lovedlover @avoidthings @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @brattyfics @soft-persephone @planetblaque @sageispunk @megamindsecretlair @theblacklewinsky @sweettea-and-honeybutter @melaninpov @keyera-jackson @browngirldominion

Summary: You were a gifted professor for all black magic academy, teaching your students alongside Terry, where you discover a strange flower and leaves you alone with him.

A/N: don’t forget to re-blog, comment and like to support your favorite writers, and press the button for a request, So I was thinking in order to get back in the zone of writing, I combined Harry Potter but made it with only black people. Why not? Enjoy!🫡

Warning: +18, dirty talk, sex pollen, profanity, nipple play, violence, praise, spanking, use of magic, soft Terry, protective Terry, aftercare, brat reader, Terrybrat tamer! Slight corruption kink, masturbation,

—————

You stood beside Terry underneath the tree with your almond brown eyes watching the young adult melanated students of various shades standing side by side with their indestructible wands rested in their hands, pointing straight for the Greek god statues, the yellow energy crackling from their fingertips and spreading towards it, creating their own versions of art. Making the statues into themselves.

"Look at them go," Terry said, his voice smooth and playful, as he leaned closer to you. His cloak moved slightly with his movements.

"I think they’re actually going to turn that statue into a giant version of themselves. I mean, who knew they had such big egos?" he joked, rolling his green eyes at them.

You chuckled, nudging him playfully with your elbow. "Well, they certainly have the talent to back it up. Just look at how they’re channeling their energy. It’s fucking impressive!”

You couldn’t help but smile at their joy, laughter bursting from their lips, their hair styled in small afros, low fades, in locs, box braided to their elbows, starighted and lastly, dressed in black, red, yellow, green hooded cloaks dawned to their ankles, black loafers and Mary Ann shoes.

“Remember when we were students at Willowstiff? Professor Anderson almost caught us passing notes in Potion class?” Terry mentioned with a grin, his tone was deep yet gentle.

You were a professor at the Wiilowstiff Academy alongside Terry Richmond, many other professors and your students talking about whatever crossed their mind, unfortunately gossip and rumors spread like wildfire on campus.

“Thankfully, I used that Change Emotion and Time Spell, he forgot immediately,” You chuckled, and your eyes landed on him.

You nodded at the fond memory of being a student at the same academy, where you and Terry became professors, the two of you had been good friends since you were students. Ready to conquer the world and defeat evil.

“I’d always liked that about you, your quick thinking and wit...”

Your teeth sunk into your bottom lips at his words, watching the students float in mid-air while doing back flips. “And I always liked your honesty and kindness Terry..”

Standing behind the castle, located in the spacious backyard, the castle painted grey nestled in the middle of the vast forest, hidden from human eyes, danger and free to be themselves without judgment, without the ridicule of the world, the green grass underneath their shoes.

“Terry...” you began, your voice soft. “Do you ever think about how far we’ve come? From those awkward kids in class to where we are now?”

He met your gaze, the warmth in his green eyes making your heart flutter. “Yes. And I wouldn’t want to be doing this with anyone else. You’re the best partner a guy could ask for.”

His words washed over you like a gentle wave, and you felt a rush of affection for him. You smiled back at Terry.

The school was built by a married black couple with magic, wanting young black witches and wizards to harness their magic and embrace their identity. It was a sanctuary, a home where they could grow their powers and learn the rich history of their ancestors.

It was a luxury that you cherished forever, being yourself in various ways, even the forest was magic, hidden away in the depths of somewhere.

The ink black sky decorated with sparkling stars hovered the both of you, you pointed out to one student that asked for help, trying a different spell and it worked perfectly, Terry stole glances with his green eyes, smirking at the man as you walked back to his side.

The buzzing rumor in the air was Terry had a crush on you ever since you both became professors at this campus.

You were dressed in a black cloak with a dress, your black box braids pulled back in a ponytail. Your melanated skin glistened underneath the moonlight, your pretty face on cue.

The college students were young after all, often showing insouciance in some schoolwork, but loved doing the magic part of the school, you were like that but they changed over the years.

“Good job Faith! I see your technique, and Jordan! Don't show off because you like her!”

The brown-skinned young male rubbed the back of his neck and looked the other way. The wind brushed across your face and you exhaled the warm breeze.

Until one of your students discovered something growling near the stump of a bulky tree, your eyes quickly stopped her, “Amaya! Don't touch that!” you yelled out.

Amaya backed up immediately until the flower growled at her, eyes glowing red and growing larger, “well..well..time to eat!”

Amaya ran toward you and hid behind you, gripping your cloak. The young dark brown-skinned woman closed her eyes shut in fear, her locs pulled back.

“W-what is that?!” she exclaimed, you wrapped her in a protective manner.

“It’s a dangerous creature that kills witches and wizards, he spreads sex pollen, hopefully you won’t get affected..” You warned softly.

Terry’s eyes landed on you, “I'll assist by your side, Professor..”

You clapped twice and caught their attention, “Okay, students time to head in your dorms!! You too Amaya!”

The students groaned in unison and said “Yes, Professor L/N!” in a cautious tone, they walked in groups and, you rolled your eyes at them once again. Running off in separate groups and saying their goodbyes.

Being the ex-Marine he was, Terry's arms gathered around the students and made a motion with his hands for a swirling portal, the students jumped through the portal and vanished quickly.

“Thank you, Terry..”

“You’re welcome Y/N..” he said, standing by your side.

With a flick of your wrist, you summoned your own energy, feeling the warmth of your magic flow through your body. Terry did the same, bursting beams of light while Terry struck it with lighting.

The petals clutched around the yellow stem, throwing pollen at you. It exploded and the pink specks of pink pollen, fallen down near you and Terry until blew it away with a wave of his hand. Winds blew it into thin air.

“Are you alright?” He asked with concern, quickly turning to you.

You shook your head from side to side, “Unfortunately, the residue of the pink pollen doesn’t have to just touch you, it spreads like a virus.” You coughed, covering your mouth with your cloak.

“I should’ve acted quickly enough then you wouldn’t be affected, I’m sorry..” Terry replied softly, his face turned toward the flower that changed to a man.

Terry zoomed toward the flower man, his hands gripping the collar of his shirt and punched him in the stomach, lighting dancing around his fist. His hands gripped his ankles and flipped the man over, Blood trickled from its gut and sent the man sprawling into the ocean.

After the battle, your knees shaking weakly and almost fell to the grass, until Terry caught you with his hands. A heavy fever washed over you rather quickly, your breath became heavy.

The pollen made heat pool all over your body, your heart beating faster than usual, and an ache between your legs that started to hurt. You gazed at Terry and your breath hitched, clenching your legs again.

Your eyes fell to his lips, body, and face. Terry was so pretty, you whimpered softly but he kept asking you if you were okay, all you could do was shake your head. Familiar wetness pools between your thighs.

“T-Terry…I feel aroused and..” before you say another word, Terry lifted you carefully and carried your bridal style, snapping his fingers and a swirling green portal appeared before you, he stepped through it and you were in his spacious bedroom, your eyes roamed the place.

The four walls in sage green surrounding the two of you, The dim light from the candles flickered around the room, casting playful shadows on the walls. You could smell the rich aroma of incense wafting through the air, mingling with the scent of fresh herbs and a hint of something sweet like citrus.

The ex-Marine turned wizard professor carried the trauma with him but teaching the students helped subside it, seared in his brain for battle.

It was very clean from what you saw, with not much decoration but a regular room with the walls painted in sage green, rock music was his favorite genre. Deftones, Paramore & Radiohead were both of your favorites.

His head leaned in closer slightly, enough to give you space and his face softened, this wasn’t supposed to happen, he should’ve been more responsible. “This is so fucking bad, I gotta help you,” he said softly.

“The plant must've had some kind of aphrodisiac,” He spoke to you, catching your body shake from his touch.

“W-we can go back to the castle, they can help but I forgot that you don't live near the campus,” you said weakly, coughing still.

“I already notified the professors about the problem Y/N through a call, Genevieve is already up my ass about it..” Terry sighed, rolling his eyes.

Terry gently laid you on his bed, the blanket sprawled across the edge of the bed. He lifted your ankles and he looked at you with worry, “May I take off your shoes?” He asked gently.

Genevieve would usually scold Terry about anything when it came to you, she understood that he was an ex-Marine and you were friends but she was your sister. Like two peas in a pod, it seemed like no matter what happened, Terry was there to protect you.

“Gen is very protective, you know that,” you giggled.

“I get that but she’s always blaming me..” he mentioned with a soft tone.

You nodded at him, “its not your fault. Yes, you may. I'm starting to become hot in these clothes,” watching the man gently unzipped your black boots.

“Y/N, are you alright? The pollen…it can have some intense side effects.”

You could feel the heat radiating from your skin, and for a moment, you were lost in the warmth of his gaze. “I’ll be fine, Terry. Just a little… overwhelmed,” you admitted, your voice shaky as you tried to sit up.

“I’m a delicate flower, you know,” you huffed, trying to sound tough despite the heat coursing through your body. “I can handle myself.”

He raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Oh, I know you can. But right now, you look like you could use a little help. Let me take care of you for once, alright?”

You watched him as he knelt by the edge of the bed, his strong hands gently untying your shoes. The tenderness in his movements made your heart race, and you feel a flutter in your stomach.

He looked up at you, his expression serious yet playful. “Maybe I just like having an excuse to be close to you,” he teased, a smirk playing on his lips as he tossed your shoes aside to the corner of the room.

Your feet rested on the bed, You felt your cheeks warm. “You’re such a dork.”

“A dork who cares about you,” he retorted, a hint of sincerity in his tone. “And I’m not going to let you down when you need me.”

Your eyes landed on his ass, it was really nice. “Stop staring at my ass, girl.” he shot back.

You giggled softly, and your cheeks grew hot while you bit down on your lip. Was this pollen or only you alone? Maybe it was you, you liked Terry but the rules said that professors shouldn’t have a relationship.

You took off your cloak and tossed your dress aside, grabbing one of Terry’s oversized tee shirts, sliding it down, dawning to your thighs. “T-Terry.. I’ll be in the bathroom..”

You rushed into the bathroom and locked the door, you sat on the closed toilet lid. Gently pull down your panties and pull off the oversized tee shirt. Your fingers sunk between your folds and you moaned loudly. “Fuck!”

You rubbed your left titty in a circle and fingered yourself for the past fourteen minutes, thinking of Terry made it worse and pleasuring yourself wasn't working, fuck. This is embarrassing, you couldn't cum.

You stood up from the toilet and washed your hands clean, drying them with a towel. You sighed in irritation. “Y/N? Are you

You opened the door and pouted again, Terry

Terry carefully peeled away the layers of your cloak, revealing the soft fabric of your dress beneath. He paused, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary, a hint of something electric passing between you.

“How come you didn't get affected by the pollen? This is unfair..” you grumbled, unbuttoning the front of your dress and you allowed it to fall to your sock-clad feet.

“I'm pretty good at what I do..” he bragged, shrugging.

“C-can you pass me one of your tee shirts please?” you asked him in a gentle tone.

Terry’s gaze widened for a moment as he processed your request, and a teasing smile crept onto his lips. “You really know how to make a guy feel special, don’t you?” He stood up, his tall frame casting a shadow over you as he walked to his closet.

“Just a shirt, Terry. Not a marriage proposal,” you shot back, trying to sound playful, but the heat in your cheeks betrayed your attempt at nonchalance.

He chuckled, pulling out a soft, oversized orange tee that bore the logo of a band you both liked. “This should do the trick,” he said, tossing it to you. “But I might need to charge you for it later.”

You caught the shirt, a laugh escaping your lips. “I’ll pay you with my undying gratitude,” you quipped, pulling the shirt over your head. The fabric was warm and comforting, but the heat from the pollen still simmered beneath your skin.

As he settled back on the edge of the bed, his eyes studied you with a mix of concern and something deeper. “

You didn't want either of you to lose your jobs because of one night, he was only taking care of you at the moment. You were nervous around him.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, causing your heart to skip a beat.

“Terry, focus,” you said, trying to maintain your composure. “I’m not in the mood for flattery.”

“Y/N. Let me make the antidote.” He turned to stand up and faced his bedside table.

Terry snapped his fingers, a book appeared in front of him and turned the pages, took off his cloak and revealed his body clad in a suit, his body through the clothes was memorizing.

“Sex pollen, the side effects are heat in the body, fever and weakness. arousal, I'm making the antidote and the other cure is physical contact..” Terry trailed off, his voice deepened.

His hand grabbed the steaming cup from the air, a hint of honey and rosemary, bringing it to your lips. The bitter taste seething on your tongue, you covered your mouth. It was disgusting, did he put a goblin’s shit in the cup? Rose petals atop the tea.

“Look at me, I know it's not good but it's gonna help with that fever, just swallow and then breathe..” Terry reassured softly, humming lightly.

Swallowing it immediately after you made a gagging noise, taking a breath as he said “That was fucking gross, what did you put in that?!” you exclaimed, drinking from a cup filled with water at the beside table.

He chuckled lightly, he held up his three fingers. “In three…two..one..” he counted with a stren tone.

Your fever finally faded away, but the heat pooling between your thighs made it worse, clenching them close and your clit throbbed again.

You looked up at Terry and suddenly went silent, pursuing your lips. “My fever is gone..” you said softly.

His arms are crossed, showing off a few of his tattoos, “See what happens when you listen to your professor?” he teased with a deep tone.

Your heart raced as you tried to regain your composure. “Okay, Mr. Richmond, you’ve done your job,” you teased back, attempting to inject some levity into the moment.

“You're still flushed..”

But the heat in your body was not just from the fever; betraying you with the way you responded to him, “You know I’ve always wanted to take care of you in more ways than one,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart raced at his words, and you could feel the heat radiating off him, mingling with your own. “Terry, we shouldn’t...” you started, but the words died in your throat as he took another step closer.

“Why not?” he challenged, his voice low and sultry. “We’re both adults. We’ve been dancing around this for far too long.”

Your mind raced. You knew the rules about professors, but the thought of Terry wanting you, needing you, sent a thrill through your body. The heat between your thighs throbbed painfully, begging for attention.

“What if… what if someone finds out?” you managed to say, though your body betrayed you by leaning slightly into him.

Terry’s hand reached up, brushing a stray braid behind your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “Let them. I’m tired of hiding how I feel about you.” His eyes searched yours, filled with longing and determination.

“I want you, Y/N. Right here, right now. I'm sure will still have our jobs, the campus was made by a married couple after all,”

Your heart raced at his confession, and the heat pooling in your core intensified. “But what if it ruins everything?” you breathed, your gaze darting to his lips, torn between desire and caution.

He stepped even closer, closing the distance between you until his body was mere inches from yours. “Sometimes things have to change to be better. I care about you too much to hold back any longer,” he said, his breath warm against your skin.

Before you could respond, he leaned in, capturing your lips with his in a soft yet demanding kiss. Pulling away from him, “T-Terry…uh..can you fuck me please?” you begged him, clenching on his shirt.

His hand wrapped around your neck, making sure he kept your gaze on his. “A good girl is supposed to listen and you've been a brat, the back and forth, the teasing, finger fucking yourself in my bathroom..” he shot back, smirking.

Terry carefully unbuttoned the back of your dress, falling down to your feet while it was tossed aside, he unbuttoned his shirt and zipped his pants. Clothes riddled across the brown hardwood floor.

No panties but no bra, you hated bras with a burning passion. You weren't big-chested but you loved your body. Terry pulled down his boxers, his dick hung out. Long and thick, veiny.

“I'll be good this time Terry..” you pouted with a soft tone.

He gently pushed you down on your back, he hovered over you and the tip of his dick rubbed across your clit, rubbing his dick across your folds with sweet torture. “Are you sure? You're gonna behave for me?” he teased.

“Yes…Please…fuck me! Fuck me!” you cried out, your nails left marks on his shoulders. Your pussy clenched around nothing desperately for friction and whimpering. You rubbed your clit in circles and moaned again.

Terry moved your hand out of the way, smirking at you. Resuming to rub his dick across your wet folds, “Did I say that you could fuck yourself?”

“N-no…Terry! I’ll be good, I promise!” you cried out, tears rolling down your face.

He kissed your lips, “Here’s your reward, princess..”

He flipped you on your stomach and pushed his dick between your folds from behind, you gasped softly at his dick filling you completely, the ache fading slightly after each thrust.

“Oh fuck..Terry!” you cried out, balling up the blanket. Drool trickled from your lips. The more pleasure, the less ache was there. Crossing the line with him was a bad move but you needed him.

Terry's hands gripped your hips tightly as he thrust deeper, his breath coming in warm bursts against your skin. "That's it, Y/N. Let me hear you," he urged, his voice low and deep.

You felt the heat radiating from him, mingling with your own, creating a storm of sensations that sent pleasure coursing through your veins. Each thrust made you feel fuller, more alive, as though every part of you was awakening to the moment.

“Just like that,” he continued, his pace quickening, “You’re doing so fucking well.” His words wrapped around you, igniting a fire within that made you push back against him, longing for more.

“Don’t stop, please!” you begged, your voice breathless and desperate. You could feel the tension building within you, that sweet, sweet pressure begging for release.

Terry’s grip on you tightened as he leaned over, his breath brushing against your ear. “You want to fucking come? You’ve got to ask for it,” he teased, his voice dripping with playful authority.

“Please, Terry! I need it! I need to fucking come!” you cried out, the words spilling from your lips as he continued to pound into you, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body.

“Good girl,” he praised, his tone sultry and deep, making your heart race even faster. "Let go for me, Y/N. I want to feel you cum on my dick."

With that, you let yourself fall into the pleasure, your body arching as waves of bliss washed over you. You cried out his name, the sound echoing in the room as you felt yourself unraveling, the tension finally snapping as you came hard around him.

“Fuck!” Terry groaned, his pace becoming erratic as he chased his own release. “That’s it, Y/N. Just like that.”

You felt him thrust deep one last time, his body shuddering against yours as he pulled out of you, tendrils of his cum landed on your stomach, the warmth filling you completely.

As you both came down from the high, Terry pulled you close, his hands tenderly stroking your back. “You okay?” he asked softly, concern lacing his tone as he looked down at you, his eyes filled with affection.

You nodded, your heart racing from both the intensity of what just happened and the warmth of his embrace. “Yeah, I’m okay… better than okay,” you replied, a smile spreading across your face.

Terry chuckled softly, brushing a strand of a braid from your face. “Good, because I’m not done yet,” he said, a playful glint in his eyes.

You raised an eyebrow, feeling the heat rise again within you. “Oh really?”

He grinned, leaning in closer. “You’ve got to be ready for round two then,” he whispered, his lips brushing against yours as he captured your mouth in a lingering kiss.

————

#black!reader #black fanfiction #terry richmond #rebel ridge #aaron pierre #terry richmond x reader #black fantasy #black writer #masterlist #terry richmond x oc

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tanoshiboo · 16 days ago

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PSA; I have been getting a few unsavory messages regarding my Shadowsugar theories and artwork. They are not for you if you don't like Shadowsugar in the slightest ! I am not saying any of this is canon, it's food for thought, artwork and maybe even plausible little theories. These are completely meant for fun and enjoyment, this is a fandom after all ! Enjoy yourselves!!

⚠️Shadowsugar theories/fanon ideas ahead ! ⚠️

Do you guys remember when I talked about the Shadowsugar + Persephone and Hades theory? (if not, here you go: https://www.tumblr.com/tanoshiboo/785867032329601025/hey-out-of-curiosity-you-think-about-shadowsugar)

They had two children, interestingly enough

In Orphic mythology, there was Dionysus/Zargeus (essentially the same, I think) and Melinoe (the younger and little-attested sister)

Now, the interesting part about this is:

Dionysus's association with grapes/grape vines and theatre and the radio staff Black Sapphire holds to an extent looks like a Thyrsus (this one's stretchy)

(I think we all know Black Sapphire's association with grapes and just general theatrics)

Melinoe's name basically means "tree fruit" hmm.. I wonder what that could possibly remind one of, totally not apples at all (although it can also possibly mean dark-minded)

Now, some accounts say, especially in orphic greek mythology that Zeus was the one who was the father of Dionysus, but interestingly, in some ways, Shadow Milk is not that far off from Zeus either sometimes - Although this is mostly Orphic

Zeus transformed into a serpent to deceive Persephone which apparently led to the creation of Dionysus (sometimes apparently Melinoe instead, I'm not 100% sure here) and he also fathered Melinoe

Also, interestingly enough, Melinoe is also described as having limbs that are "partly black" and "partly white" because of Hades (dark) and Zeus (light) in orphic as well. She apparently tends to be associated with the colors black and white

I'm just adding to my Persephone and Hades theories from a while back, and also the theories of CA and BS being their children ⚙️⚙️⚙️⚙️

I also considered maybe Pavlova also being since it was theorized that Eros was also possibly the son of Hermes but it doesn't matter since I'll just be considering his ~3 direct siblings

Harmonia and Phobos/Deimos

^ maybe CA ^ Mixed to influence BA

but stretchy.. I also headcannoned maybe they could be like Cain and Abel too , BA being Cain and Pavlova being Abel, especially since one is more demonic and the other is more angelic (for obvious reasons). maybe Candy Apple could be Aclima. Just thought this was fun to think about

If you want to look into more directly to mix stuff:

Oh yes, speaking of which, I thought it was cute that Candy Apple and Pavlova also have big bows in their designs. The double-colored long hair on older Pavlova reminded me of Shadow Milk's pre corruption hair/sage of truth hair. (also generally the fringe reminds me of Smilk) Not exactly theories at all but it's sooo cute to think about ...

And the silhouette of the bow strands also look a bit like they'd make a coattail... I don't know why, but Pavlova is so Candy-apple-esque if only she were not evil/more "angelic"

Also how they're all associated with fruits, especially the one's in Eternal Sugar's garden (berries, apples, grapes) is lovely, even Shadow Milk is strongly associated with blueberries . Only one who isn't is Eternal Sugar but to be frank fruits contain relatively high natural sugar content ...

If you think about it, Candy Apple cookie behaves a lot like Eternal Sugar sometimes... And Pavlova is a bit of a little trickster just like Shadow Milk cookie - I wonder if they would get upset about it sometimes lol ⛱️ Imagine raising a child as a divorcee only for them to turn out like the other parent instead

Ooooh and I nearly forgot to add, I thought it was interesting how Black Pearl cookie and Shadow Milk cookie are so similar especially in terms of lines which is funny because I'm pretty sure Black Pearl cookie is meant to be like a fem sea-based Hades (also Black Pearl's voice actor voices Lady in Azure too!)

I had some more thoughts, but I'm too sleepy to talk about them further. I did talk about them earlier but I had doubts and considering either re-writing or let it catch dust

so much rejection...

All of these things are very think-worthy and art material for me and I hope it's the case for everyone else too who likes it as much as I do 🧡

#shadowsugar #crk #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #candy apple cookie #black sapphire cookie #shadow milk x eternal sugar #shadowsugar theories #shadowsugar theory

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cosmic-ghost-hermit · 1 year ago

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Pick a Card: Message from your Spirit Team

I love connecting with everyone's guides! Thank you to the collective and their spirit guides for your support in this reading. I love you! The universe loves you! and your guides love you!!! <3 Take what resonates and leave the rest behind but always be open to new perceptions.

Decks used are: Alchemy Oracles, Archetype Oracle, Necronomicon Tarot

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(U will feed a queer person if u donate)

Drop any reading suggestions, request readings, or reading recommendations in my ask box! Can't wait to see what y'all wanna see!

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PILE ONE

Astrology: Virgo, Gemini, Scorpio

Song: Shooting Star by Owl City

Vibes: Black, white, green, blue, thunder, rain, prophetic dreams, illusion, secrets, finders-keepers, forests, 9999, corsets, darkness, frozen fruit, con artist, narcissistic, Hera

Cards: 6 of Swords, Eros, Destroyer, Quicksilver

My friend, you have bitten off more than you can chew while standing upon a really unsteady foundation. It will crumble eventually. It isn't a matter of "if". It will happen. It is a matter of "when". You can't go on like this. You can't play both sides. You are going to lose people who you dearly love if you keep it up. Your intentions are pure I know. You don't want to rock the boat. You don't want to make the wrong decision. The actions you took were driven by a good heart but you are stretching that good heart too thin to be able to continue like this. What you are doing was supposed to be temporary but you are treating it as if it is sustainable and permanent. Luckily, there is an escape from the desolation you could face. You must be honest about how you feel to yourself. You must be true. You can't just follow anymore to make everyone happy. Decide for yourself because there is no staying out of it anymore. If it takes you time to decide that's alright. If you need time to do research on whatever decision this is that is fine. Take your time deciding. But you MUST decide and if you don't decide then it will be decided for you.

This feels like a different decisions for different people reading this. I can see it might be about a situation-ship or familial/friend drama. It could be political as well. Either way you have spent most of your time in this situation sitting on the side lines and not making any moves. You believe if you ignore whatever is happening it will solve itself. It won't. I'm sorry. You are being tested and being indecisive is the only way you can fail. Not deciding will have the most cons and very little pros. I can definitely tell why it has taken you a bit to think about. Either decision you make there will be pros and cons to whatever it is you decide. You think you can escape the cons by not addressing it at all. However, being complacent is a decision, my dude. Not deciding is still a decision to do nothing.

When you do decide, you must stand firm on your decision. You MUST. Don't be wishy washy about it and change your mind once you have chosen. Even if you have regrets you MUST stand firm. Your guides will reward you after with many gifts of love. I also see gifts of knowledge. Later down the line you will see why you had to make the choice. You will be enlightened on what would have happened if you chose the other route. I can hear you sighing in relief when you learn this and not regretting your path. I wish you luck, my dear.

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PILE TWO

Astrology: Sagittarius, Leo, Capricorn

Song: Gold on the Ceiling by The Black Keys

Vibes: Yellow, pink, red, crows, bats, crowbars, dirt, grave yards, 333, courtesan, aging, mushrooms, pine needles, sewing, weaving, looms, large dogs, Persephone, Hades

Cards: The Sun, The Poet, The Lover, Smoke

My dear, why are you so mean to yourself for attempting to be happy? What is the logical purpose of that? Listen, I get it. You have been through so messy messy stuff. It fucked up your head and it corrupted the way you think and talk about yourself. But seriously, can you think of any reason besides "it feels familiar to hurt which means it's safe." Dude. For real, stop being so mean to yourself. It doesn't get work done faster. It doesn't help you when you aren't working and you are trying to rest. It isn't doing you any good to put yourself down for what you enjoy. It just makes life harder than it already is. It doesn't have to be that hard. It SHOULDN'T be that hard. I know what you say to yourself, dude. You mimic those who have criticized you in the past. You are parroting the pain they caused you and repeating the cycles of abuse you faced. The people who hurt you before were looking in mirrors. They weren't truly looking at you. Their opinions of you don't resemble reality. They just wanted to bully someone besides themselves to feel better about themselves.

The insults you are repeating aren't how you truly feel. You are a so much more than a victim. First of all, you are an important person. Second, you are an artist. A very good artist, I might add. You can capture the emotion you are feeling perfectly when you create. When you write, you communicate what you wish to say so clearly that it touches the hearts of even the most emotionless people. That is power. That is magic. I am not going to say you are talented, my dear. Because I know your skill came from years of practice. Years of love drenched artwork and thoughtful choosing of words. You are more than talent, my dear. You are driven. You are intelligent. Any road block you faced you gracefully jumped over or powered through. Do not be mean to yourself. Do not. You deserve more recognition than that. Only you can do what you do. You are inimitable.

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PILE THREE

Astrology: Aries, Libra, Aquarius

Song: Charmer by Aimee Mann

Vibes: Rainbows, candles, moths, reading, pearl, gold bars, ripped clothes, 555, 88, garden, ghost trees, vampires, higher self, lions mane, alternative beliefs, collecting, coffee, Athena, Artemis, Apollo

Cards: 4 of Swords, The Self, The Cave, Mystical Sisters

I am so proud of you. You have locked away who you are for a long time. You recently started to do some self discovery after you left a person who wasn't good for you behind. I don't think you understand what a huge step you've made. I don't think you really see how what you have done is a huge fucking deal. You stood up for yourself. I think you really water down this accomplishment because you had an ally help you. My dude, even if they helped you. Do not forget you have free will. They did not force you to start exploring yourself and standing up for yourself. You could have ignored their offer of assistance. You totally could have said "Nope, I don't want to." Did you forget that? Please don't water down how well you have done. Acknowledge yourself, please.

You are realizing how wonderful you are. You are finally seeing how kind you are and how considerate you can be. I know leaving that person was painful and it is difficult to reopen the book of you without them in it. It is for the best for both you and them. Again, I am very proud of. Your guides congratulate you as well. It is okay to be guarded for a while. I encourage you to protect your peace while you are exploring more of yourself. I encourage you to ask for help if you need it. Especially because I can still feel your heartache from the loss of someone important to you. If it helps your feel better maybe put some energy to your spirituality. I know it might be tempting to look at old photos and dwell on the past connection. It is okay to do that a little bit while you heal but don't get too caught up in what could've been. It is time to focus on the present and keep your mind on where you want to be and not where you were. Your guides are backing you the whole way through.

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PILE FOUR

Astrology: Taurus, Cancer, Pisces

Song: Sunrise by More Plastic and Halvorsen

Vibes: Red, light blue, yellow, grey, white, cats, divine geometry, snakes, science, spills, reality tv, 1111, hearts, wine, falcon, dragon scales, astrology, grand square/trine, Hermes, Zues, Chronos

Cards: 8 of Cups, Kairos, Gnosis, Conjunction

Alright my dear, the time is going to be right soon. You know what to do and you know when to do it. Don't question it. Even if it makes zero sense logically, just trust that inner knowing. Trust that you know what to do and where to go. Trust. You will be leaving something soon. Perhaps a group, a relationship or a club. Again, you WILL know when and how, when the time comes. The stars are aligning for this escape route of yours. I know it is a bummer to leave because you have had such good times where you are at. You worked really hard on everything you built there. I know you are really anxious about hearing this because it is a bit vague but you knew this was coming, darling. You could see the signs way before any of the drama started. When shit hits the fan you need to be ready to dip out. Don't worry about preparation. Don't worry about details. The universe is going to take care of that for you. You just have to watch and listen to your heart.

Yes, you are in the right. No, you haven't done anything wrong. Spirit is sorry that it might be kind of sudden but I really believe you have already seen the red flags in the place you are leaving. The BIG drama that is about to take place isn't supposed to be part of your journey. It is meant for others to figure out on their own. You are not their teacher. You are meant to be their friend and companion and I think they have been parentifying you in a weird way. Spirit doesn't want you getting in the crossfire of everything that is about to hit. It wants you to listen closely to your intuition and trust yourself to know. This part of your journey is supposed to be mostly chill at the moment. Except for the sudden upheaval. That part is probably gonna be rushed. Everything will be just right for you, I promise. Keep your eyes narrowed and your perception high. Someone is sprinting in your direction and you will need to keep pace with them when they arrive. They will be your getaway driver. I believe in you. The universe will protect you. You will be rescued. Good luck, darling.

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genericpuff · 1 year ago

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ten storylines u think could have been amazing in lo if they had been handled better?

10 already feels like so much for a story like LO buuttt:

1.) the act of wrath plotline, seriously this one felt like it had some of the most lost potential as one of LO's more unique plotlines (and it lost that potential as soon as it was turned into some "oopsy" committed by persephone due to her wrath being a 'gift' from eris when she was a baby??? still bugs me so much ugh) give me back that dichotomy of Persephone and her internalized wrath, dangit.

2.) the Eros and Psyche plotline. it started off so promising as a parallel B-plot to H x P and then seemed to just get dropped halfway through S1 when Psyche got turned into a nymph.

3.) Echo's involvement as a double agent for Zeus. that was clearly the intention when she was introduced but then she was promptly dropped and only showed up again to say "fuck you Zeus" with zero build-up or implication that she had a change of heart. Like imagine if we actually saw her leaking info back to Zeus but then also getting closer to Hera on a personal level and realizing that she didn't want to keep snitching on her. it would have also made the 'big reveal' of Hera kissing Echo a lot more impactful because then they would have had an actual story arc.

4.) Persephone's character development into becoming the Dread Queen. Right now the story wants us to think that Persephone is somehow "better than ever" despite the fact that her version of the "Dread Queen" is being an absolute Karen. But think of how it could have been if her character de-evolution was the point, to show how Hades had corrupted her. Or if they were meant to be actual shitty people and not shitty people that the narrative was trying to convince us were good.

5.) Hades' and Minthe's relationship. It goes without saying that Minthe was wrong to turn to physical violence, but I'll die on the hill that Minthe wasn't being treated fairly by Hades, either. Those three flashback episodes in S2 leading up to Minthe getting turned into a plant were such a missed opportunity to showcase how Minthe became as bitter as she did towards Hades and what their relationship was actually like in the beginning (and why they liked each other in the first place which they very clearly did) but instead it just dragged its heels because obv Rachel didn't want people empathizing with Minthe.

6.) Ares being used as a tool for war by Zeus. It's clear being sent off to these wars is taking its toll on him and it's created a steep divide within the family, especially concerning how protective Ares is of Hera esp when it comes to how Zeus treats her.

7.) The Aphrodite / Hephaestus plotline. Good god I have no idea what the thought process was behind this one, some of the myths she kinda got away with flipping but this was the one that made the least sense to flip. There was so much potential there that was squandered, a lot of it at the expense of Aphrodite and Ares as traditionally powerful and respected gods.

8.) Hades' alcoholism. Minthe was right, simply falling for Persephone and dropping the cigars and brandy to make himself look better for her doesn't make him a changed person. If the alcoholism was linked to his trauma, why didn't we explore that more? Why couldn't we have seen him actually pursue proper recovery and have it not just be "I'm hot for the 19 year old girl but if I'm drinking constantly that'll make me look bad so I'm just gonna put on the best fake persona I can to make her fall in love with me" instead of actually getting to the root of his issues?

9.) The SA plotline. As much as I talk about how shitty it is, I have zero issue with the original depiction of it, I think it was very accurate especially when it comes to coercion. A lot of people assume SA has to be violent, kicking and screaming, begging for help, but coercive assault is often a lot quieter and more about manipulation which that scene nailed in depicting. It's just everything after that that feels completely misfired and more so for the purpose of making Hades look like a better person simply by comparing him to Apollo on the basis of "he never assaulted Persephone!" and it drives me nuts.

10.) Demeter's winter. In the most recent FP episode, while discussing it with pals, all I could really say was, "This was supposed to be a retelling of the Abduction of Persephone". And Demeter's winter is a core part of that story, one of its biggest purposes in Greek culture was using the myths to explain the creation of the seasons. Despite this being a "retelling" of the Abduction of Persephone / Hymn to Demeter, one of the most important characters in the entire myth has been reduced to, at worst, a Mother Gothel Disney villain, and at best, a pointless NPC.

#ask me anything #ama #anon ama #anon ask me anything #anti lore olympus #lore olympus critical #lo critical

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haydenthewitch · 1 year ago

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okay, so holy shit, what the fuck ❗️spoilers for fhjy❗️

even when cassandra was corrupted, she still ruled over parts of her domain, right? as the nightmare king, the forset of the nightmare king was perpetuily in a state of twilight and mistery/doubt. i'm wondering if ankarna was a god of [a time of day] and [a feeling].

let's look at real mythology for a second here; gods in mytholgy got married all the time. a popular example: persephone and hades. persephone means "distroyer of man" and hades was a "ruler over death". it makes sense that they would be married; their ideolgys are very closly aligned. they had other side things too; hades was the god of wealth, and persephone was the godess of spring, but parts of their religon aligned, and you would often see them depicted together.

so what if when cassandra's follers all agreed to abandon her, (as we learned they did in season 2) the depictions of her and ankarna together were lost or distroyed with them. what if this marrige ment that in losing all of her followers, his followers were also lost, becuse they were worshiped together. they were depicted together. when she was corrupted, he died, and the reson we didn't see dipictions of him was becuse the gods worked together to distory his name (and likeness i would assume.)

anyways, if cassandra was still residing over her domain when she was corrupted, i feel like this leads to the idea that ankarna would still be residing over his domain even in this "can not die but effectivly dead state." Maybe, like emily said, she was twilight, and he was dawn. she was rage, and he was doubt, which correlated in beliefs and worship.

also, apparently in sweedish, "arkarna" means "the anchors". i don't know how accurate google translate is, but it's not something to sniff at. brennan can be batshit sometimes (postive) so who knows what could be a clue. to me, i think of the 24 pointed stars, who can be an anchor of pepole's rage. witch seems to come from arkarna's corrupted god self. so, there's that. we are running off of no sleep and crack theorys here pepole. break out the riz conspirsy bord.

#dimension 20 #demension20 #dropout #brennan lee mulligan #dropout tv #fhjy #d20 fhjy #fantesy high #fantasy high junior year #fantasy high

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aidoneusmusic · 4 months ago

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any thoughts about hadestown? i'd be interested as to how you feel about it

hi hi thanks for your question!

The issue is I have too many thoughts about Hadestown lmfao it’s so hard to summarise without essentially writing a novella, but I’ll be as brief as possible!

A year after it came out, I was introduced to the 2017 version on Spotify (+ Anaïs Mitchell’s demos) and I instantly fell in love. Tbh, to this day, that is still my all time favourite rendition.

As someone who’s been hyperfixated on both Greek Mythology and musical theatre since I was 6 y/o, discovering Hadestown was like a dream come true. I really enjoyed Mitchell’s take on the story, and thought she did a fantastic job expanding on the motives and overall development of every single character.

In the original myths of Hades/Persephone + Orpheus/Eurydice, it feels like things just “happen” to both Persephone and Eurydice, so I loved that they’re each given stronger personalities and a sense of agency, even if they’re trapped in their circumstances. Persephone is just how I’d imagined her — a weathered, witty, and powerful delight that provides warmth to everyone she meets, but hides a deep discontent and grief within her.

Regarding Eurydice, her worldliness contrasts beautifully with Orpheus’ misguided hope and naïveté, and I thought it was so clever to use themes of poverty and famine as a means drive her towards the temptation of Mitchell’s industrialised version of Hades(town) — which I’m also obsessed with.

Tbh until listening, I’d completely forgotten that Hades is the god of wealth, so to see these themes built upon and then integrated into political commentary was incredible. The idea of a man in power scaring people into submission with threats of poverty if “the wall” isn’t built especially resonated with folks at the time of its release, and unfortunately still applies today. But we eventually learn that he wasn’t always this way, and that wealth + power corrupts people over time, so much so that he forgot “the melody,” aka the central motif.

and HOLLYY SHIT am I a sucker for motifs. if a musical doesn’t have motifs, I don’t wanna hear it.

I especially love the ones throughout Hadestown, though, whether it’s the “La la las,” or the “Doubt comes in” melody, there are motifs everywhere in this musical. All of them work so well to make a cohesive story that, after my first listen, I felt like I’d already seen it live.

And then I did see it live !

I was blessed enough to attend its London premier run at the National Theatre twice in 2018 and got to meet Reeve Carney, Eva Noblezada, and Patrick Page at the stage door — all of whom were as sweet as they are talented! I saw it again in 2024 with a different cast, but I’d definitely say I’m biased towards the original. Nonetheless, it’s fantastic on stage and I think I cried almost the entire time lmfao

I could keep going on and on because I have a million things to say, but I’ll stop myself here. Overall, I personally think it’s the best musical that’s made it to the stage in this last decade. It’s provided me with so much inspiration and encouragement to keep writing the stories I want to write, even if they’re old or have been told a million times before.

#answering stuff #!!!!#thanks for sending my first ask!#i didn’t even get to talk about how much i love the folk style and composition AGH its truly so great for so many reasons #hadestown

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synergysilhouette · 1 year ago

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Rewriting some of the Winx Club villains (for fun)

I actually had a fun time with rewriting the Winx, and it seemed to have gotten positive reception! Thus, I thought I'd do rewrites for some of the Winx Club villains. Just like with my last post, this is NOT a "what would've made them better" post, but just my own interpretation of the characters based on the show (mainly the first 4 seasons as applicable) and some of the comics. And since I never did a post about recasting the villains (I only did so with the Winx and the Specialists), I'll include my dream voice cast here. Enjoy!

Ancestral Witches--In my rewrite, there's only one ancestral witch; I feel like it fits the primordial vibe more, but this is also because the witches don't have distinct personalities, and the Trix claim descent from all three of them, but this feels like they were moreso their reincarnations than their ancestors (though it could be both). This sole witch would be named Carabosse, named after the wicked fairy the Ancestral Witches are based on. She is created by Darkar as the first evil mortal (albeit with an extended lifespan due to magic, both hers and Darkar's), but she isn't his servant; she's his consort, and they exist as a twisted version of Hades and Persephone from Greek Mythology. Rather than having the same powers as the Trix, Carabosse has the ability of corruption, being the first mortal queen in the magical dimension (and ever, probably), and seen as doing her husband's dream of spreading evil throughout the world. The descendant of the holders of the dragon spark, Oritel, formed the Company of Light to defeat her, but they only managed in destroying her physical body, with her spirit still lingering. She is the first witch, as you may have guessed, and even in death, we are never truly rid of her, due to her divine marriage and long-forgotten magic that makes her influence permeate the most evil parts of the magic dimension.

I'd imagine she dressed in dark blue/black with orange-red gems and patterns, almost like she's made of lava. My ideal voice actor for her would be Colleen Wheeler, who did an AMAZING job of playing Mystique in "X-Men: Evolution."

The Trix--No need for introduction, the sisters of the Ice Kingdom are the most persistent villains in the series. In my rewrite, their realm wouldn't be known as the Ice Kingdom (since it kinda discards Darcy and Stormy), but Distorsione, Italian for distortion, said to be the base of Queen Carabosse. You'd think that being descended from her would offer the Trix some leverage, but the royal family has much closer ties to her while the Trix are distant relatives. The people there are reserved and standoffish, but not necessarily evil, though the Trix essentially ruin that perception and now it's a demonized location in the magical dimension. It's confirmed that the Trix are triplets and were abandoned by their family for the perceived threat they could pose in the future, and upon discovering this, they vowed to take over the magical dimension and retake what they believe to be their birthright. And it's worth noting that for most of the first season, no one knows who they are when they attack the Winx; they have a "Superman" thing going on because of the makeup and clothes change; when in disguise, they dress similarly to their fairy disguises in issue #123 of the comic.

Icy has an on-and-off romance with Darko throughout the series (it's implied that they could've been something positive, but Icy is too focused on power and is willing to mistreat Darko, who, despite having his own issues, cared about Icy but is now mainly just courting her for potential power that he could wield as her consort). She also has a distaste for Bloom, given their powers are polar opposites, as well as the fact that Bloom was automatically revered for her potential while Icy was discarded for it. She also takes particular interest in tormenting Flora and Ariel (my rewritten version of Roxy), since I'd canonize the 4kids statement that she derives power from dead planets, and the fact that she doesn't really have any particular respect for animals and plants. I'd probably base her design on Taylor Swift, particularly during her "Reputation" era. I know the Trix weren't based on celebrities, but I thought it'd be a nice touch. I'd I'd like her to be voiced by Salli Saffioti, since I really liked her performance as Cleo de Nile on Gen 1 and 2 of "Monster High," albeit something a bit less regal. As usual, she wears shades of blue, though I like the idea that she keeps the lighter/brighter tones for her witch look that she does in her civilian clothes.

Darcy is the middle triplet, and is quite interesting due to her relationships with others. While Icy is somewhat conflicting with how she feels about others, sometimes abusing them and sometimes praising and adoring them, Darcy cares about others but believes that abusing them is the best way to show it (influenced by her abandonment and the fact that she's been lied to a lot by people who claimed to care about her growing up). She's attracted to danger and doesn't really understand the typical concepts of love and care, which Icy jokes is influenced by her power over darkness, which will prevent her from ever seeing the light. She often takes delight in torturing Stella with darkness and causing friction between Musa and Riven--she even tells Musa that they can share Riven; Darcy takes the evil half and Musa takes the good half, even going as far as to offer splitting them into two separate people, but Musa points out the unethical boundaries of that (duh) and how her love for Riven meant that she loved him in spite of his flaws and wanted to help him improve on his faults, but only if he recognized them as so. This perplexes Darcy, who has a similar corrupting power to Carabossa (albeit much less powerful) and she believes that she must change those who don't like her or think like her. I'd base her appearance on Olivia Rodrigo, and also have her voiced by Tasia Valenza, since I enjoyed her performance as Poison Ivy in the "Batman: Arkham" video game series, and I feel like her deeper voice captures Darcy well (4kids bias).

Stormy, being the baby triplet, is often left the hand-me-downs of her sisters and is the most mysterious, despite sharing her sisters' interest in chaos and power-seeking. Unlike the more composed Trix, Stormy is much more upfront and aggressive, not usually bothering with manipulation unless she thought it could stir up an immediate reaction. She doesn't really have a love interest, but she does note that if things fell apart for Stella and Brandon, she could pick up the pieces and "see which way the storm blows." I'd also see her as the Trix member who's most likely to choose physical violence (in contrast to Icy, who's most likely to rely on her magic), and feels like she has the most to prove, insecure and afraid that she and her sisters were discarded because of her (being the only one who's powers were apparent and uncontrollable from a young age). She also has it out for Aisha and Tecna, as storms know how to stoke an ocean's ire, and can cause blackouts. I'd base her appearance off of Tate Mcrae, with her voicework being done by Selah Victor, AKA Chloe Bourgeois from "Miraculous Ladybug."

Diaspro--Just to be clear, I'm keeping the "Sky and Brandon swapped identities" subplot, but this lie is revealed BEFORE Bloom and Sky get together. It's also revealed that both Sky and Diaspro are political pawns; they were childhood friends, and when it was revealed that Diaspro was a fairy of gemstones (what's with "the"? Can't there be more fairies like her?), she was betrothed to Sky under the belief that her wealth would enrich Erakylon. While Diaspro submitted to this--being from a poor family and "encouraged" by her relatives to accept the betrothal--she became cruel and callous due to the political games she had to play, as well as never wanting to go back to poverty. She had a crush on Sky, and the betrothal heightened this, but she failed to realize he didn't feel the same, as he became more withdrawn when the betrothal became official. Since he was doing his duty as a prince, he tried to submit to his family's wishes, but rebelled when he developed a crush on Bloom, as well as making friends with the Winx and the Specialists. Diaspro misinterprets this as his friends talking him out of marrying her, and she lashes out at them and tries to tear them apart. Sky is the only one who has sympathy for her at first, and eventually all his friends realize she was dealt a bad hand in life. Until it's revealed Bloom is a princess with the power of the dragon flame (she's originally just said to be a fire fairy to protect her), Sky and Diaspro go through with the illusion that they're engaged. When it breaks off, Diapsro's family has been compensated and rises to the noble ranks, but they still want more. Diapsro informs Sky of their plotting, and she pretends to continue to be villainous to her family and other villains, acting as a double agent for the Winx and the Specialists without turning anyone against her. For her design, I'd base her on Ariana Grande (for obvious reasons), and surprisingly have her voice by Ellen Wong; I think her sweetness as Knives Chau would be great for Diaspro's vulnerability, and it'd be fun to see her act stuck-up. I'd also give her an outfit reminiscent of blue labradorite (you'll recall with my rewrite of Bloom I'd give her a black base with colorful accents reminiscent of the cosmos).

Darkar--Much the same, the dark dragon that contrasts with the great dragon that created the world. I'd make him a bit more nuanced, with his nature being chaos rather than outright evil. In fact, to make him different from other Winx villains, I'll make him lawful evil--which is the Dungeons & Dragons way of saying he's a bad guy who follows the rules. These "rules" would essentially be the laws of nature, that light cannot exist without darkness and vice versa, but one can reign over the other. With his wife gone, he sees the Trix as his daughters/granddaughters (and they are his descendants) and attempts to teach them his ways--though they are puzzled by his lack of unecessary cruelty and restraint, as well as his respect for those who align with good. He reveals that his wife was not constrained by the rules that governed him, and that is likely why the Trix act they way they do. He's also known as the "shadow phoenix" because he'll always be reborn, and there will be an age of darkness once more, and Bloom's descendants (or another descendant who holds the dragon flame; Bloom's extended family is sizeable) will fall into their grasp. Plus Bloom's witch heritage makes her fall into his distortion, bringing out the duality of the dragon flame, both light and shadow. I'd love for him to have a larger-than-life deity appearance to him, and taking inspiration from X-Men's "Dark Phoenix" arc feels natural--thinking on it now, they may have already done that. For his great voice acting as Trigon, I'd love for Kevin Michael Richardson to play him--though Paul St. Peter is a close second.

Valtor--He's iconic as-is and the greatest Winx villain (partially because of how involved he is in every episode, in contrast to previous villains), but I'd make a change to his origins; instead of an older being created from the dragon flame and raised by the Ancestral Witches, he's the biological son of Darkus and Carabossa. Similar to Diaspro, he was used as a pawn all his life, and is only slightly older than the Winx and Specialists. He essentially does everything the same in my book, but there is a sympathetic angle; he was designed to bring about the age of chaos Darkus foretold, and thus has been emotionally, psychologically, and physically abused by his caretakers (since his parents weren't physically around to raise him) until he became a beast of darkness. However, due to the fact that light cannot exist without darkness and vice versa, in a similar way to Bloom being made into Dark Bloom, Valtor is capable of love and light, albeit in a very standoffish, aloof way. Bloom recognizes his loneliness, and for a second it makes her reconsider wanting to be reunited with her own family, who she only knows through second-hand sources. With the power of the Winx, Bloom defeats Valtor, but instead of killing him, she uses her divine abilities to take some of the darkness in his heart and accept it into her own, giving him some of her light in return, knowing that he didn't choose to be who he became, though he's still imprisoned with the Trix in the Lightrock Monastery due to his crimes. It's implied for the rest of the series that he's an antihero, though he tries to be discreet due to the legacy he created. For his voice actor, I'd love for him to be voiced by Neil Newbon; the Astarion parallels are too delicious to ignore.

(NGL, Valtor is a great villain, but I did feel bad for the circumstances surrounding his creation, thus my sympathetic take.)

Tritannus--Due to his repetitive nature in season 5, I'd make Tritannus a supporting villain in season 3, helping to give more focus to Andros as well as keeping his goals streamlined. For a good deal of the season, the merpeople are curropted, with the pandemic eventually reaching King Neptune and Queen Ligea. Nereus also becomes infected, leaving Trittannus to rule the seas. However, when he welches on his promise to help Valtor take over the magical dimension, Valtor pollutes the ocean, transforming Trittanus into a monster. He then helps Valtor in order to regain his original form, as well as having a thing for Icy (who admires his evil tendencies, but his newfound appearance makes this a manipulative relationship only, as she sees a great deal to gain by becoming Queen of the Seas, this being one of her off periods with Darko). His family eventually defeats him, and he is banished to Oblivion, though both his siblings hope to release him from there with time, given his young age and their merciful natures, though Aisha remains skeptical.

I'd probably want him voiced by David Gallagher; I could totally hear Riku's voice when I see him.

Cassandra and Chimera--Amazing side villains, and pretty underrated winx villains overall, Cassandra is the new wife of King Radius and Chimera is her daughter, and both of them treat Stella cruelly and put a spell on Radius to make her resent her. I'd include them a bit more, and make Cassandra seem a bit kinder than she really is, with Chimera viciously tearing down Stella and Cassandra passive-aggressively trying to cheer her up, only to make her feel worse. I'd also make it less obvious that Radius is under a spell; since Stella argues with him frequently following the divorce and now with his surprise marriage, Stella believes that Radius thinks she's turned against him and wishes to take the throne by force, possibly with her mother. Radius IS under a spell, but it's easy for Stella to buy that after all their arguing, it's affected her father's perception of her, especially since his new wife and stepdaughter appear demure and submissive. They're still vain and spoiled, but they know how to curry the kingdom's favor in order to make themselves likeable, craftily working with Valtor to stain Stella's image as a selfish, entitled princess, and convince the nobles that her behavior could result in a coup that could destroy the sun kingdom, even making them think that Stella has become a puppet to Luna (and that Solaria itself could become a puppet state).

I'd base their appearances on Gwen Stefani and Jenna Ortega respectively, with Cassandra being voiced by Jennifer Hale (using a voice similar to her Bayonetta performance) and Chimera being voiced by Diane Guerroerro (since she has "evil Isabella Madrigal" written all over her).

Wizards of the Dark Circle--In my rewrite, they wouldn't be present villains (not that I've written the whole thing out, but that's my current headspace), but instead beings of legend, with their own unique backgrounds. Two of them are fairies, so I guess "Lords of the Dark Circle" would be a better title.

Ogron--Nicknamed the Stormy of the Wizards by the Winx and the Specialists, he's moody and quick to anger, but when he is in his element, he's calm and collected. As a child, he was a precocious wizard who surmised that fairies were the most powerful beings in the magical dimension (outside of the dragon creator), and realized that no matter how powerful he'd become, they'd always win, inspiring his quest to destroy all fairies on Earth, becoming so powerful that he became the Wizard of Negation, capable of stripping powerful creatures of their abilities (which varied by creature, of course). Despite his rage against fairies, he seems to have love and care for other beings, including his fellow wizards. He was eventually defeated by non-Earth fairies and sealed in a stone statue in Gardenia, and with his defeat, no more wizards were born on Earth. Similar to the Winx, I'd give the WOTDC celebrity inspirations, mainly celebrities who were (arguably) at their most famous decades ago, but are still widely respected now. For Ogron, I'd base him off of Johnny Depp and have him voiced by Mark Hamill (he gives me Ozai vibes, what can I say?) I'd also change the group's color scheme to be more individualistic, making his a mix of reds and oranges in a sophisticated, upper-class style rather than his punk aesthetic in the OG version.

Anagan--I'd make him the most "likeable" of the lords; he shows respect for others, flirts, and socializes, being known as the life of the party. He is known as the Wizard of Time, which allowed the wizards to stay ageless and find the Earth fairies (he joins this quest because he sees fairies as inferior to wizards, and not deserving of their power). It's implied that he can also time travel, and that the Winx may encounter him one day, or that they may already have. Due to his skill at seducing fairies, it's stated that he's sired many descendants, but due to Ogron's petrification, no magic came of his descendants, wizard or otherwise. While he escaped the fate of his contemporaries, it's said he's lived a lonely life without them, being known as the shoulder they could cry on and an expert secret-keeper who they consulted. His celebrity inspiration would be Usher, and I'd make his clothes trendy and have a stained glass style and multicolored, highlighting his colorful personality and friendliness (just not to fairies). Keith David would be a fun voice actor for him, in my opinion.

Gantlos--Originally a wizard of destruction, I'd rewrite him as the fairy of memory, and thus the one responsible for erasing Earth's recollection of magic ever being real. He also is the most protective of the group, throwing himself in danger to keep the others safe and being akin to the Pied Piper of Hamlin due to his mesmerizing flute playing. He was ignored as a male fairy within his family, lacking the ability to progress to different forms (likely because he was sheltered and thus could never overcome his insecurities or make a sacrifice), and took on a dark fairy transformation, giving him a new form, but locking him out of the forms other fairies have. Being raised by a rather strict, traditional family, he doesn't share compassion for animals, making Ariel detest him as she learns more about him. However, he does have affection for the elderly. When trying to wipe the entire world's mind of fairies, he became overwhelmed and it destroyed his mind (and failed, thus why we still have fairy tales), making him the second of the Lords to fall and thus buried in a magical crypt by Ogron. I'd base his appearance on Leonardo DiCaprio, and have him voiced by Zahn McClarnon, since I enjoyed him as Olrox in "Castlevania: Nocturne." His fashion sense would be very similar to Dante from the "Devil May Cry" video game, albeit blue.

Duman--Also a fairy in my rewrite, he was a fairy of shifting (which means he could shapeshift). He often downed himself as a loser, not strong as other fairies and eventually fell in with the wrong crowd, making his way into the Wizards of the Dark Circle. He strives to be useful, and due to insecurity, almost never appears as himself unless he's with the other lords. Unlike the other lords, he acknowledges that what he's doing isn't really ethical, but is fine with being bad because he has community. It's mentioned that if he never met the wizards he would've died of loneliness, and thus the lords are like family to him. He has a tendency for gambling, and it's noted that after being tricked by a clever fairy, he was forced to give up his magic power. The lords erased his mind of them, deciding to spare him the pain, and he married a human woman and had a family, which they knew he always wanted. His legacy in the magical world was not forgotten, but the mortal world never knew of him. I'd want his appearance inspired by Brendon Urie, as well as being voiced by Noel Fisher (who I know as Toad in "X-Men: Evolution") would be perfect for this. I'd probably keep his punk aesthetic, though I love him wearing green.

Hope you like these takes. Lemme know what you think, and if you have any questions. Next post for this will be the specialists!

#winx #winx club #trix #valtor #darkar #diaspro #wizards of the dark circle

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