#persephone is her own person

[luckquartzed]

Which Symbolic Fruit Are You?

Kakavasha~

Clementine

In Chinese culture , clementines , known for their bright orange , waxy exterior , were symbolic of gold , & by extension , wealth , good fortune & abundance . Trees that bear clementines ( or mandarins , as they're also known as ) are often used to decorate the thresholds of Chinese households as a sign of good luck & prosperity .

As lucky as Clementines may be , so are you & those around you . With a sunny disposition , & a knack for seeing the best in everyone , & the good in the world around you , you’re someone who believes that the glass is always half full . Things can always be worse , & they will always get better , one way or another ! Like the vibrant clementines , you're known for bringing light to those who need it , & always bringing laughter to your friend group . However , such a bright exterior can sometimes hide a deep & lingering sadness . Remember : even the light sometimes has to dim , & even the sun has to set . Don't worry ; it'll always come back .

Aventurine~

Pomegranate

The pomegranate is most famously attributed to the Greek goddess , Persephone . Though versions of the story differ : with some of them saying that Persephone was tricked into eating the pomegranate seeds , in order for her to become trapped in the underworld , & some saying she willingly chose to eat the seeds .

Pomegranate's have a hard exterior that is tough to crack . Your hard shell is a natural protectant & keeps you safe from those that only wish to use you . Internally you are rich with bounties . You believe in living your life passionately & vibrantly . The idea of surrendering to a fate of being confined to anything , whether it be a relationship , a job , or family dynamic where you are not happy & lack agency is a terrifying prospect . It is fears like this which also prevent you from opening up & showing vulnerability to those around you . However , like the pomegranate whose seeds sparkle like gemstones , you hide inside you incredible beauty that only the most worthy deserve to see .

Tagged by: @gemkun ( TY! ♥️ )

Tagging: Anyone who hasn’t done this yet since I rolled up late to the party lol.

#Oh. Oh no. What have I done? Why did I ever think taking this for both would end well? #God this is so accurate though. #See: Kakavasha sneaking into Kalican territory to play GAMES with them in order to win back his mother’s necklace for his sister because it #was important to her even though they easily could have killed him & her understandably freaking out & saying in the end it’s just jewelry #but that HE is the most important thing their parents left behind. #See how sweet & friendly & optimistic the personification of Aven’s past was. #Versis how jaded & mean his future self was to him. #Aventurine with hope versus him after he’s been beaten down to the point he no longer tries to get back up. Because his life has been owned #by someone else for so long he doesn’t even feel like he counts as a PERSON half the time. #He puts his life on the line because why wouldn’t he? He’s just an asset. He has no friends or family or home to go back safely to. #But I headcanon strongly that his deeper hidden motivation - that not even he realizes - for going to Penacony is because he wanted a way #of being free from the IPC while still being loyal to them & dying would accomplish that. #‘Some say Persephone willingly chose to eat the seeds.’ #Kind of like Aventurine chose to become a Stoneheart. He ASKED Jade for a chance to prove himself. So he could live. #But doing that simply transferred his shackles of ownership from his previous master to the hands of the IPC. #Like Persephone. She got to escape her overbearing mother but the trade off for ‘freedom’ was being trapped in the Underworld. #Hell even Aventurine’s character descriptions say you never know how he really feels because he wears a MASK. #He’s always smiling & friendly. He barely stopped smiling even when Sunday basically gave him a slow acting lethal injection & tortured him #I’m so fucking sad at seeing how Aventurine went from being Kakavasha to so broken & bitter. #He literally views being exploited & exploiting others as the trade off he has to pay in exchange for living. #♣️ ⸻ ᴇxᴘʟᴏɪᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ & ᴛʀᴇᴀᴄʜᴇʀʏ ᴀʀᴇ sɪᴍᴘʟʏ ᴛᴏᴏʟs ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀᴀᴅᴇ ❮ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ sᴛᴜᴅʏ ❯ #♣️ ⸻ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ɪ’ᴍ ʟɪᴠɪɴɢ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ’s ɴᴏ ᴛᴏᴍᴏʀʀᴏᴡ ❮ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴ ❯ #♣️ ⸻ ɪ’ᴠᴇ ɢᴏᴛ ᴍᴏʀᴇ sᴋᴇʟᴇᴛᴏɴs ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴄᴇᴍᴇᴛᴇʀɪᴇs ʜᴏʟᴅ‚ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ᴊᴜsᴛ ʟɪᴠɪɴɢ ʟɪғᴇ ғᴇᴇʟ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀ ғᴜɴᴇʀᴀʟ ❮ ᴘᴀsᴛ ❯ #♦️ ⸻ ɪ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴛᴜʀɴ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴀ ᴄʜᴀʟʟᴇɴɢᴇ ❮ ᴅᴀsʜ ɢᴀᴍᴇs ❯

[monstrumpuella]

A mother's denial

#lore olympus #lo demeter #hmm i wouldn't be too sure about that #it seems like the denial is still strong with demeter #i can understand with her concerns that its probably just a small crush that will go away with time #but its not #Demeter has to accept that her daughter loves hades even if she doesn't want Persephone to #Demeter needs to understand that Persephone is her own person and not an extension of herself

[vagabond-umlaut]

tryst, too tempest

Icarus fell for loving the Sun.

You will, for loving your lover.

▸ trueform!sukuna x wife!reader; 1.1k wc; comprises of elements inspired by the tale of 'hades and persephone' & 'fall of icarus'; warning: sukuna is sukuna, so expect the expected [mentions of violence, murder, cannibalism]; warning 2.0: the reader is not very keen to leave or not love her husband; uraume is the BEST WINGPERSON none of you two ever deserved but still got; FLUFF & ANGST & A MADLY DEVOTED LOVE YOU AND SUKUNA FEEL FOR EACH OTHER

▸ belongs to the series 'mine? yes, mine.' – same universe as the work 'six seeds, like rubies...' — but you can treat this as a stand-alone fic if you wanna!

▸ i don't own the characters, the image or the divider used. please don't plagiarize or translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️

Foul winds howl through the land, the first year of your life as one Ryomen Sukuna's wife.

Servants cower before you the moment your shadow falls within their field of vision, yet their gaze stays steeped in pity and envy the entire time it remains trained on your feet. Grocers mumble to one another, eyes looking away when you move to look at the things in their shops. Even the very flora and fauna, you loved so much growing up, writing poems on them from the day you knew how to pen a poem– even the same flora and fauna feels so foreign to you—

"You do realize your importance to Master, don't you?"

Uraume's quiet question floats in through your thoughts, much akin a gentle breeze creating small ripples over the water surface. You smile. "Given how I haven't been eaten by him or sent to be murdered by his subordinate curses, I think I do."

Emotion, too similar to humor, flits across the mien of your husband's loyal follower — you decide not to think much of it. Too many days of having only them as someone to speak to, outside of requesting for a second serving of the soup or asking for the cost of yukata, has led to you imagining a smile on a person who is famous for their poker face. Shaking your head, you return to your poems, the quill fluttering over the roll of parchment you found lying at the breakfast today morning, and let out a content sigh — only for your peace of mind to be broken by the bursting of a guard into the garden, appearing too terrorstruck to utter a single coherent word.

It takes you nothing save one glance, moving from him to Uraume to your ink-stained fingers, before you find yourself keeping the papers on the ground beside and rising, feet breaking into a hasty giddy run down the corridors of the palace to the throne room where, certainly enough–

"I was under the impression you've run away in the extra while I spent sleeping, wife."

The world around you comes to a dead stop as the visage of Sukuna comes into your line of sight; you feel your heart skip two beats then begin a thundering rhythm against your ribcage.

Four years ago, if someone were to tell you there is someone who is going to free you from the gilded cage you were forced to call 'home', is going to share with you his name and is going to be the reason you will ponder the meaning of love, you would have given them a second of your time before walking away with a polite excuse.

One year before, if someone were to tell you there is someone who is going to free you from the gilded cage you were forced to call 'home', is going to share with you his name and is going to be the reason you will ponder the meaning of love, you would have huffed a quiet laugh. The first two have already come to pass (with too many lives lost and too many lives threatened) — yet the very last prediction? You would have considered it to be highly improbable, if not outright impossible.

Yet, now, if someone were to tell you the same three things, you think you wouldn't have shown much of a reaction. You would have simply turned to that 'someone' mentioned in the prediction, and gazed and gazed and gazed–

"I left the roll of parchment you bought for Mistress at the breakfast table, just as you asked, Master," Uraume's voice cuts your thoughts into half and you twist to catch them offer you both a very deep bow before hurrying out, to the left towards the kitchen, four baskets full of radishes in their arms.

You look back at your husband, only to find him seated stiffly on his throne, eyes landing anywhere but you. Stifling a giggle, you tilt your head to the side.

"Why do you act so embarrassed, my king?" you ask, stepping a timid step towards him, then another. Gleaming ruby eyes dart to your face then to your approaching feet. Something tingles through your veins. Climbing the stairs leading to him, you hum, smiling, "I don't think it's embarrassing – quite the opposite, in fact. To me, giving one's wife a thoughtful gift as that... it seems quite adorable to me."

"Be careful of your words, woman," the King of Curses growls, rising and taking a large menacing step in your direction; your smile grows intentionally too innocent, which does apparently nothing to quell his increasing fury: the precise outcome you've been wishing so fervently for.

He pulls you by the waist, flush to himself and lowers his lips close to yours, tantalizingly so. He smells very strongly of those bath salts you bought from a travelling merchant three moons back; faintly of blood and death, of the priest he diced last night after dinner — you wonder if you're worthy to be called a human, after finding the curse you have sworn yourself to forever, so terribly dear despite these.

Certainly not — but you reckon you're too far gone to care anyways, so you stop wondering such things – and lift yourself on your tiptoes to brush your lips with your husband's, then pull away a touch, words leaving your lips in a breathy whisper.

"What if I'm not careful with my words? What will you do then, hm? Will you devour me like the monster everyone says you are? Or, will you throw me away like everyone warns me you will one day– when you find someone prettier, smarter, better than me, huh?"

Two moments pass in pin-drop silence between the two of you.

Barking a noisy guffaw, Sukuna weaves his fingers through your hair, still damp from the bath you took a short time ago, and plants a deep kiss to your lips. Then parts his lips from yours, although a mere hair's breadth away, and grins, features teeming with that exotic species of malevolence you never saw yourself regarding to be charming.

Until your gaze met with his, one fated evening, that is.

Your nails dig crescents into the broad muscles of his shoulders.

Your lover's grin sharpens. "Let time tell the tale— yes, my queen?"

The next morning, you find a dozen or so heads waiting for you at the breakfast table, severed by a neat slice at the root of their neck– eyes and mouths which once looked down on your wedding with the King, frozen forever now in a scream of terror.

Forsaking the wonted theme of nature, you decide to pen a poem on scathing, soothing love, instead.

or... everyone: your husband is a despicable monster!!! you: uh-huh everyone: he might leave you for someone better!!! you: uh-huh everyone: you better not stay in this union anymore. you: nuh-nuh. i'm so gonna stay and love and fuck my hubby <3

▸ masterlist

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x you #trueform!sukuna #true form sukuna #jjk x reader #jjk x you #sukuna fluff #sukuna angst #jjk fluff #jjk angst #sukuna drabble #sukuna imagine #sukuna fic #jjk drabbles #jjk imagines #jjk fics #ryomen sukuna #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #kit posts 📝

[strawberrystepmom]

i'd crawl home to her

pairing: hades!geto suguru x persephone f!reader

word count: 10.8k

about: the god of the underworld brings his most valued prize home at the risk of tearing the realm itself apart.

contents: cw dark content - kidnapping, possessive leaning on yandere behavior, stockholm syndrome to a degree, lore accordant misogyny (ugh i know). this is a retelling of the hades and persephone myth, it is not exact to the prior iterations - creative liberties, etc. reader is quite naive but has her own personality and genuinely cares for suguru. piv sex, reader is referred to with feminine pet names, virginity loss. zeus gojo, hecate shoko. weird happy ending bc ofc this is something EYE wrote.

notes: i was personally asked to repost this and figured finishing the story and posting it full length would be the best way. this is the full and final version of what was formerly known as crawling. thank you for reading and i hope you enjoy it.

floral divider is thanks to @/saradika

Earth’s sun rises with you, Suguru concludes on his fourteenth morning outside his bleak domicile.

Perched high above the meadow you tend every morning, the sun rising higher in the sky with every step you take across soft green grass, he watches. The backlight drenches you until you’re a mere silhouette, hard even for his superhuman vision to make out. 

He doesn’t need the sunlight to do anything but glow across every curve and dip of you - his mind can easily paint the rest of the picture.

You live behind his eyes every time he closes them.

He luxuriates in the feeling of shutting them to imagine you while he’s in this form, something inhuman that may belong among your trees and your blossoms. Something unlike who he really is. 

Opening his eyes as he hears branches creak beneath where he rests, he readies himself to swoop into the landing you are approaching. 

Sighing with each step, the gentle sweep of the hem of your dress across your feet tethers you back to your reality. The grass tickles the bottoms of your bare feet and you squint as you peer into the distance ahead, unable to make out more than vague shapes of flora. 

A golden cage with crawling vines along the bars is still a cage, one to which your mother holds the only key. You are reminded of this impenetrable truth with every muffled step that grows quicker as you notice something in your clearing. 

A bird, larger than any you’ve ever seen, rests atop the grass with its wing twisted at an unnatural angle. The sight makes you gasp and you begin to sprint, filled with concern. The dryads haven’t yet arrived to tend the meadow with you - you’re alone. 

You’re unprotected. 

You’re his.

A pathetic caw leaves the large bird’s beak as you approach. The sound is strangled and makes your heart squeeze, mind immediately reeling imagining the suffering this animal must be going through. 

Despite being kept under lock and key, this meadow is your domain and nothing will hurt as long as you are here. You vowed long ago to make this so. 

You sink to your knees beside the bird. Suguru sees the tips of your fingers before he sees anything else, the beady eyes of the body he’s inhabiting keeping him from taking in too much of you at once. 

“You poor thing,” you speak without a trace of irony or false sympathy. Your voice is more beautiful than any melody he has overheard the dryads cast into the sky and relief washes over him as the sound. “What’s happened to you?”

He caws again, the sound stronger this time and you smile. Perhaps he’s feeling better, you ponder as his shift away from you and shut. His soul shutters with anticipation as you lean over him. 

This bird is unlike any wildlife you’ve ever tended to in your lands, large and inky in color. You are more accustomed to robins or the occasional duck, things as gentle as the life you lead. Ducks don’t even have claws, Suguru thinks as you stroke a pattern across his beak with your index finger, suddenly too aware of his own talons in this form. 

Those same talons twitch and you frown, moving from his beak to gently petting his head. 

“Are you in any pain?”

The concern you hold for Suguru makes him feel a bit hazy, your mind too precious and concerned with helping him to notice the rapidly browning grass surrounding the two of you. 

He eventually kills everything he touches, smothering the light out of every last brightened corner in his life. It makes him feel guilty knowing you’ll just be one more light to extinguish but he can’t allow this to continue.

This want he has for you - the need growing into a pit as endless as the one he alone casts souls into. 

You are his. 

A soft gasp leaves you as the once injured wing of the bird you sit next to appears to be healed untouched. No longer bent and dangling, the strength returning as the bird lifts his head. Fear paralyzes you when you recognize something distinctly human in the darkened eyes that glance up in your direction. 

This is no bird of your lands.

Adrenaline rushes but you stay, watching the bird twitch as he begins to transform into something inexplicable before your eyes. Feathers give way to hair, a beak to a face. You draw your fingers back as wings become hands but they’re captured quickly between cool fingers much larger than yours. 

Fear blankets your mind and you gape at Suguru as he transforms into a man - nude, bare to the sunlight. You can make out every defined plane muscle and scar, the sight as terrifying as it is alluring. You know all too well who has trapped you between his talons. 

“Why are you here?”

Despite the terror in your widened eyes, desire flickers within them. Suguru notices you do not flinch or stray as he reaches out and caresses your jaw with his fingertips in the same pattern you were gently etching across his beak. 

“For you.”

Almost as if you are no longer in control of your own body, you melt into his touch and your eyes grow heavy. His large palm cups your cheek and he gently pinches the soft round between his index finger and thumb.

He wishes you’d come willingly but he can’t be certain and will not leave room for error. 

Your eyes flutter shut gently, your body slackening as the magic he used to coerce you to sleep takes hold. Bundling you against his bare chest, a victorious smile crosses his handsome features.

You are his, wrapped in his embrace, and he holds you as delicately as a fragile newborn as the ground shakes beneath the two of you.

“Let’s return home,” he mutters down at you knowing there will be no response. Your breathing is steady, little puffs of air leaving your barely open lips. He presses his palm against your cheek, your throat, your chest. 

He resists the urge to map you out knowing he’ll have plenty of time to do so as soon as the two of you have settled in the underworld. 

The God above answered when your mother cried out to the heavens and Earth herself the first evening you did not return to your mother. 

Your routine has been the same for many of your living years - trudging back to your family estate with muddy feet and eyes you have to force open to stay awake through the evening meal you used to share with her. Days spent beneath the sun turning to evenings withering beneath another light altogether.

Satoru set his cerulean gaze on the lands below, the verdant rolling hills of Demeter's domain, and he knew without a second thought the encroacher who had been there. Brown grass in the shape of footprints led straight to your clearing - where he knew Suguru trapped you.

His need had become insatiable, a fear they’d all kept to themselves for far too long.

Lounging across an ornate chaise in the social room of Demeter’s estate, Satoru eyes her home carefully. Everything here is so polished, so prim. It’s a wonder she has ever let you get your hands dirty at all, her little blossom ripe to be plucked straight from her stem. 

“Go to him,” Demeter begs the god with teary eyes, his snowy hair framing his unnervingly handsome face. “Please make him return her to me.”

Satoru chuckles and lifts a chalice to his lips, the two legged land nymphs and servants that also serve the woman across from him tittering anxiously. They’re lucky to be witnessing the handsome god in front of them, they’ve all remarked several times over. He sips and lets the taste of the richest wine this world has to offer drench his taste buds before smacking his lips appreciatively. 

A lazy grin crosses his features which infuriates your mother. 

“You know I can’t do that, Demeter,” he holds the chalice out to the waiting hands of a servant who graciously accepts with a measured smile. “I’m as unwelcome in his domain as he is in mine.”

Suguru simultaneously watches the conversation through a looking glass hanging on the wall of his quarters and you as you sleep, an enchanted rest he created with a spell he has not yet decided when to break. 

This transition will be easier for you if you rest, he decided when he concocted the plan to bring you here in the first place. He rips his gaze away from the glass before him and wistfully gazes at your little form. Your soft breaths, your little hums and yawns. The way you shift against him when he joins you at your side, looking for warmth he cannot give.

He balls his fists and returns to his watching.

“He kidnapped my daughter!” Your mother shouts, back of her hand pressed to her forehead as an unimpressed Satoru raises his brow unenthusiastically. “Do you have proof?”

Suguru can’t help but smirk, shaking his head at his old friend. He wishes things could’ve been different between them but Satoru belonged amongst the clouds, a god and friend to all. He finds himself exactly where he belongs - in the darkness below, the unknown depths at which mortal life ends and everything else begins.

His attention shifts as you do in his bed, little mutters spilling from your lips in a rapid enough pace he grows concerned and stands over the edge. His hair is so long it nearly graces the edge of the bundled blankets below him and he listens to your soft voice intently, as if nothing else matters. As if he weren’t just eavesdropping a mother’s desperate plea for the safe return of her child.

“Where am I?”

Suguru believes he can make out the words spilling from your lips and your eyes flutter open. He sinks to his knees beside you, a large hand cupping your cheek. He cannot tell if you are unafraid or just too unaware to shrink at his touch. I’ll take my chances, he thinks as he grabs your other hand with his free one.

“You’re home and safe, my treasure.”

Looking around the dimly lit room, your brow furrows and he softens at the sight. You delight him, in your soft and beautiful glory, and he wants you so badly it’s going to consume him. It already has.

Nodding at his words, your eyes begin to focus and you feel hands upon you. You aren’t sure how long you’ve been sleeping, it could be hours or months, but you feel rested and whole. Your fingers do not hurt nor are they blistered, your feet are warm and dry.

“Are you…him?” 

You ask and Suguru leans further onto the bed until his chest is pressed against the blankets, his face resting against the bundle of them directly over your stomach and chest. He shakes his head gently, still cupping your face. He uses his hold to point your chin downward so that your eyes meet his. 

“Who?”

A gentle sigh escapes you and you lean into his touch, head heavy with fatigue. You are still not completely aware of your surroundings but you can think back to the times as a child your mother warned you of a man who offered nothing but darkness.

“You are the light of this world, my child.” She would warn you as you sat upon her lap and let her brush and manipulate her hair into the style she liked best. “Don’t ever let darkness consume you. Do not let him reach you.”

You giggle softly and your sleepy gaze dances over the handsome face of the man next to you. Angular and sharp, yet something distinctly and indescribably boyish lives inside of his eyes. Perhaps it's an internal softness, a fondness for you, turning outward.

“The God of the Underworld,” you whisper and he feels your palm pressed against his where he holds your other hand. “You’re Suguru, aren’t you?”

For a moment, he wonders how far a lie could take him. He could keep you here in his quarters forever, never revealing himself as anything more than a concerned traveler that found you passed out in the meadow. He could lie. He could transform himself again just to eliminate all risk of you leaving.

He could chain you to the bed. He could keep you here, never to let the sun’s rays grace your skin again. He could pluck those beautiful butterfly wings straight from your soul and cage you.

Instead he shakes his head and offers a small smile.

“You’re right, it’s me.”

You laugh again, still groggy and he wonders silently what you find so funny until he hears the raised voice of your mother from the screen behind him once more.

“How could you even insinuate my daughter would leave with a beast like that?” She shouts, snotty sniffles punctuating her words. “A man so vile you cast him out yourself, Satoru, and yet you allow the most delicate thing on this planet to be sullied by his hand.”

Suguru shakes his head and turns his attention back to you, watching as you glance across the room to make sense of your surroundings. How are you so trusting?

“It’s a little dark here.”

He nods, eyeing the sconces on the walls for a moment before saying a name you can’t quite make out in your state. A servant enters the room and he asks that they turn a small knob on each of the fixtures and they do so with a nod, exiting as quickly as they entered the room. The light is still far dimmer than the sunlight you are used to but it helps you further examine the features of the man next to you.

“Thank you,” you whisper as your eyes flutter shut again, the magic taking its hold over you as Suguru grasps your hand tightly between his. He needs to break the spell completely but he will let you rest, he reasons as you gently fall back into a deep sleep. It pains him to break contact with you, letting go of your hand but keeping your cheek cupped in his palm until he feels satisfied. 

Your mother continues to shout behind him. His interest is only piqued when Satoru speaks, turning his head to glance over his shoulder.

“I will see if I can speak with him, Demeter. You rest until then. Looks like you need it.”

Suguru freezes in place, wondering exactly what his old friend has planned. Perhaps it’s a deterrent from further outbursts from the goddess screeching at him. Reluctantly, he lets you go and rises to his feet and rushes toward the door where one of his most trusted servants is posted outside.

Pulling the door open, he peaks around the corner and the woman in waiting gazes at him expectantly. 

“Yes, my lord?”

Suguru offers a measured glance, dark hair falling over his shoulder as he leans. 

“Please prepare a raven, I have a letter to send.”

Things have been tense since your arrival and Demeter's angry cry to the other gods for your return. Even the lowest of his servants feels strange seeing a sunbeam trailing through the corridors, each of them surprised at how easily you seem to have taken to the human embodiment of darkness itself, although they’d never speak the thought aloud. It’s as if you’re hiding your fear of him, no alarm despite the fact he eyes you hungrily every time your back is turned. 

“My lord?”

The unlucky servant currently standing in his proximity knew the look as soon as he saw it, glancing at the back of your head as if he could look directly through your skull and into your thoughts. The only wish of the God of the Underworld would be to find himself in your thoughts as you are in his.

Despite how easily he loses himself in observing you, Suguru’s brows raise as he shifts his attention from where you gather your skirt in your hands, carefully appraising his estate to the servant approaching him gingerly. Their posture is slumped with anxiety, shoulders rounded forward.  

“You have a visitor.”

Raised brows furrow, the skin between pinching. Folding his arms over his chest, the god lets a sigh he’s unable to stifle escape and turns his back to you reluctantly. It’s not that he doesn’t trust you, it’s just that he would rather not leave any of this up to chance. He risked so much bringing you here - why would he leave anything up to chance when fate has deemed it so that you are to be together?

Glancing over his shoulder to where you stand, still curiously staring at the vines that crawl along the columns that make up the structure of the property. The sidelong glance shows him that you are still within an arm's reach and he turns his attention toward the servant. 

“Who is it?”

The servant shakes their head and the pinched skin between his eyebrows further puckers as a frown crawls across his features. The words don’t have his usual bite, despite the frustration on his face, and the servant feels as though they can speak until they see you turn toward Geto’s back from over his shoulder. 

“Excuse me, Lord Geto?” 

Suguru’s attention is pulled away immediately when he hears your voice from a few feet away, your hands grazing the petals of flowers growing despite this unnatural habitat. The ground is dark and cold, no light to warm the soil, yet yellow daffodils spring through the near black dirt. 

“What is it, my treasure?”

In an instant he is by your side, gazing down at the yellow petals that dot the otherwise dark ground. The servants hadn’t mentioned to him that flowers were beginning to bloom again, instead he noticed it now, watching you bend at the waist to grasp delicate yellow petals between your thumb and index finger. 

“Have these always grown here?” Nodding his head at your question, his long hair fans against his chest and you gaze up at him through your lashes curiously. “Yes but it has been a long time since they’ve bloomed.”

Despite knowing he took you against your will, it’s difficult for you to find contempt for the man given how kindly he has treated you. He has given you a space to call your own and expects only your companionship in return. No tilling fields, no guarding the dryads, simply being allowed to exist for the first time in your life without paying a toll to do so.

This is a stark contrast to the life you were plucked from - working sunrise to sunset to appease your unappeasable mother. 

If you miss your home, you haven’t told him so yet. The thought has crossed his mind that you are only playing to his sensibilities, trying to outsmart an old god with your clever youthful ways, but he sees the genuine warmth in your smile when it appears. Aimed at servants, even the damned begging for his forgiveness, your compassionate nature shines through. 

Despite the fact this is not a place meant for one as beautiful as you, he only hopes there will come a time when you his home as a place the two of you are meant to share. The way you eye the daffodils only allows hope to grow inside of him, dark eyes drinking in the sight of you as you pluck the yellow flower from its stem and hold it in his direction with an uncertain smile.

“You won’t be able to keep her here for much longer, Suguru.”

Another voice draws his attention from you and he clenches his jaw, molars grinding together so roughly the joints begin to ache. Shoko, he thinks. Fuck. You stand and gasp, recognizing the woman yourself although you cannot begin to fathom what this visit could mean for you. 

“Good to see you, old friend.” The Goddess of Magic pats his shoulder as she breezes past him to your side, chocolate colored hair parted to expose her face.

You can recall seeing it numerous times throughout your childhood, attending feasts at your mothers’ home on more than one occasion. She’s as beautiful as she is powerful and you can hardly hide your confusion wondering why she would be here, extending a hand in your direction. 

Suguru looms from over your other shoulder, eyes practically blazing as he looks toward the scene unfolding in front of him. She’d come to take you and he simply would not allow it, stepping closer until he stands directly behind you and braces a hand on your shoulder. 

“What business do you have here, Shoko?”

She laughs at his informality and shakes her head, grasping your hand for a moment before dropping it. Looking between them, you swallow thickly and she sighs watching your eyes immediately look upward at Suguru, looking for answers. 

He looks back down at you in the way one may view a treasured pet. She realizes in that moment, as Satoru had warned her, his obsession had won and disrupted the careful balance of the heavens.

“My business is currently gazing up at you as if she’s afraid to look away, my lord.” 

The words strike you between the ribs and you quickly avert your gaze, fixing it on the single flower in your hand. Anger practically pours off of Suguru as he looks over his shoulder at the servant still waiting and nods them over to where the three of you stand. 

“Please return her to her quarters,” he commands and you scoff in protest. Eyes wide, you feel him gently push you in the direction of the servant. Without thinking, you press your heels into the ground you stand on and turn to face him.

“I believe I should be present to find out my own fate.”

The servant gasps bearing witness to your first act of defiance since your arrival. You wait for a flash of anger to cross the Lord of the Underworld’s face but it never comes, a fond smile the sight you see instead. 

“Your fate has already been decided.” The finality in his tone makes you feel captured, mirroring the emotions that swirled through your mind on the day he took you. “You needn’t worry about all of this.”

Lifting his hand from your shoulder, he pets your hair gently before giving you another gentle push in the direction of the waiting servant. This time, you are too stunned to argue and you’re whisked away in an instant. Left only to glance over your shoulder at him, you feel hot tears spill out of the corners of your eyes but you find it difficult to explain why.

Geto’s gaze follows you until you are back inside of the estate and out of his view completely, the goddess staring at him expectantly in a means to end his lovesick antics. It’s beneath him to act like this, as if he’s a parched man and you are a cool stream. 

“Are you aware that her mother is prepared to tip the realms upside down if it means she’ll be returned?”

Shoko doesn’t bother to hide the judgment dripping from every word and he rolls his eyes in response, arms folded over his chest. It’s always a treat to see her longtime friend act as if he were young again, petulantly sulking because his favorite toy needs to be put back in her box. 

“Let her return, Suguru.”

He says nothing, his friend turning to him with an unimpressed glance.

“No young goddess is worth war. I assumed you would’ve figured that out by now.”

He decided long ago that you are worth ripping this realm apart for.

Weeks have passed since the last time you graced Suguru with your presence.

Shoko's visit created unexpected tension between the two of you and he wonders what he could have done to upset you enough that you have completely frozen him out while he takes long strides through the courtyard, eyes falling to the ground below him to see once blooming yellow flowers droop sadly.

They need you just as badly as he does.

"Please call for her again," he mutters to the servant that walks with their head pointed downward to his left. "Explain that is an order and no longer an invitation."

Suguru's discerning gaze doesn't leave the ground but he hears the footfalls that tell him his orders will be fulfilled without question, as expected.

Upon bringing you here, he decided he'd use the gentle approach with you. No reprimand, no demands, just gentle redirection and letting you come out of your shell at your own pace. Those first few weeks were blissful, you'd wait outside his chamber door until he arose to walk along the grounds with you. You refused to touch him, uncertain of where boundaries lie, but you remained curious enough that occasionally your arm would brush against his.

He'd have to claim other duties needed attending to get away from the near suffocating rush of blood from his head to his cock, length stiff and uncomfortable beneath his robes.

Part of him misses that feeling, the rush and flutter of what he has justified in his own mind as love. It certainly must be, he reasons, given the way he has miserably through his own kingdom for weeks while you've refused meals and visitors. Even damning has become uninteresting without the promise of the sun's radiant light across his face once the dirty work is done. You are his sun, his world, his everything.

Why don't you feel the same about him?

A sickening feeling settles in his gut as he wonders if you are communicating with your mother behind his back. Perhaps Shoko's visit brought you the means to do so, a plan to run and hide and stay away. His fist clenches at the thought and he clears his throat, an uncomfortable thickness coating his tongue. That is a possibility he will not, cannot, allow.

Footfalls draw his attention upward and he notices you walking alongside the servant he sent to fetch you. The look on your face is unreadable, you think, but he plucks you out like a ripe little pomegranate with little effort.

You're throwing a fit as a young goddess does. You're old enough to know better, an adult, but young enough not to care and looking the Lord of the Underworld in his face with a pout makes a feline smile spread across his face.

He's so handsome you almost stop in your tracks but you choose to avert your gaze instead, pretending dying vegetation has captured your attention for the first time in days. Suguru chuckles at your insolence, the dangerous man as unintimidated as one can be.

"She rises," he says flatly and he can almost see your shoulders deflate as you continue to refuse to meet his eyes. "Come, come. Let's discuss what's bothering you."

The servant leads you to his side before being dismissed with a wag of his head and you glance at him out of the corner of your eye.

He's everything you remembered seeing a few weeks ago but you cannot shake the way that his dismissal on the day of your goddess visitor upset you. You believed he saw you as more than a pawn, a person rather than a vague outline for his own desires, but you began to question his intentions that day and have ever since.

"Are you happy here?"

The question makes you turn your face toward him, pout falling. Never in your life have you been asked to consider your own happiness.

In your realm, your happiness is directly tied to how happy you make your mother. How hard you work, how harmonious your meadows are, how productive you can be. You struggle to recall the last time anyone besides the dryad, who you technically had and have dominion over, bothered to ask you about yourself.

The act leaves you speechless, his face pointed downward in your direction. You dare to glance up at him and the elegant slope of his nose, his dark eyes narrowed but radiating a warmth you never imagined a man enshrouded in such darkness down to the cape of hair caressing his shoulders would be capable of.

Moving closer to him, you let your arm brush against the sleeve of his robe and he attempts to keep his face stoic despite the sheer gift of your touch. He must keep his cards close to his chest in case you've found a way out - he cannot afford to spare any vulnerability.

"I think that I could be, my lord."

You're choosing your words carefully and he knows it. He watches as you swallow and your face twists, bottom lip quivering. Despite his better judgement he reaches out for you, cupping your soft cheeks between his cool hands. You don't attempt to dodge him or stray, meeting his eyes.

"If I wanted to be forced to meet demands, though, I would have already returned home."

He knows all too well the demands of which you speak, his years spent watching you from below giving him knowledge of the fact you've never been happy locked away while your mother holds the key to your freedom.

"I understand," he starts, dropping his grip on your face and bringing his hands to his sides. It's not that he does not wish to give you the freedom you desire, it's that he cannot do so and please his own desires as well. "Do you wish to return home?"

He asks and you shake your head quickly, firm in your decision to remain here despite things feeling uneasy with Suguru. Locking yourself in your room and spending all of your time alone is better than what awaits you above, the wrath of your mother promising you'll be working in the fields for the rest of your life.

"Lady Shoko promised me safe passage if I wanted to return but I would prefer to stay here if you will allow it."

That smile crosses his face once again and you can't help but mirror it, cheeks heating knowing it's meant for you. In the time the two of you have spent together you can't seem to recall a single time you've seen him smile, much less like that, at anyone else and it sends a swarm of butterflies drifting through your stomach and chest.

"Of course, my treasure," he reaches up to cup your face once again and you gingerly lean into the kind touch, cheek rubbing against the heel of his palm. "As I've told you, this is your home."

Your home. Not his domain, not a place he's graciously allowing you to take residence until he decides his plans for you.

Nodding between his hands, you offer a smile of your own that fades as his face suddenly turns serious.

"This is your home but all homes have rules," he reminds and you nod, eyes wide. His rules cannot be any more confining than the ones you previously dwelled under.

"You are not to contact Lady Shoko without informing me first, understood?"

Uncertainty dances across your face and he tightens his grip on your cheeks for a moment, dipping his head so that your noses nearly touch.

"It's for your safety only," he comforts, spurred on by the way your posture has tensed as you consider what he's saying. "We cannot trust she won't inform your mother and she won't drag you back with her by your hair."

Doubt falls away from your face at mention of your mother and it takes all of his willpower to keep himself from smirking at how quickly you give in at the mere mention of what you left in the first place. Nodding, you accept his words without question and he's reminded of why he's so terribly fond of you in the first place.

"I understand," you mutter, mirroring his previous words to you and the corner of his mouth lifts in a smirk as he dips his head low enough that your noses do touch this time, the tip of his brushing gently against yours.

"I'll pay any cost to keep you safe and that's why I had you sent away during my conversation with Lady Shoko," he apologizes and you believe he's earnest given the way he looks down through heavily lidded and lashed eyes. "I won't make that mistake again. You do deserve to decide your own fate."

He keeps the fact your fate has long been decided to himself, the illusion of choice more important than actually having choice itself. You smile sweetly, nodding between his palms, making your noses brush once again.

"Thank you, Lord Geto."

He shakes his head, backing away from you. The smile on your face dims with the loss of him so close and you send a message to your fingertips to stay at your side - you haven't been given permission to touch him as badly as you want to.

It's isn't the first time you've considered how he'd feel between your palms. Would he be cool to the touch, as his own hands are? Would he let you explore each divot and crease of his body, your eyes roving and your imagination doing the same? Would he allow you to kiss him, lips brushing against lips, noses brushing once again?

Heat you feel fearful of blooms in your gut and you look away, cheeks warm. You hope he can't tell what you're thinking as you wait for him to respond.

"Suguru," he corrects. "I'm always Suguru to you."

He swears he sees the yellow daffodils at his feet spring to life with the warmth of your gaze when you avert your eyes from him to the ground, girlish embarrassment keeping you from looking a god in the eye. Chuckling, he reaches for you again and pulls your face toward him, pressing his cool lips against your forehead.

You gasp and he drops his hand, squeezing yours that lies at your side before turning to leave but not before tossing another glance in your direction over his shoulder.

"Let's do this again soon. I've missed it terribly."

You nod a response, too shaken to speak.

"What do you bring before me?"

Suguru never looks more grand than when he sits on this throne of bone, the picture of repose with his legs spread wide enough that his robes fall between them. His arms rest on either side of the chair, generally, but right now he rests his chin between the thumb and finger of one hand watching while his servants bring forth another soul for his judgement.

You watch from your own spot in the crowd, flanked by guards, simultaneously curious and horrified at how easy this is for him. He is judgement and you simply get to witness the process of life created above being squandered down below due to its own misdeeds.

He has been doing it for a long, long time, you remind yourself if only to quell the way your stomach turns as he denies another lost soul passage.

The job he's performing isn't entirely unlike yours - the ability to bring forth life, even if it is just simple vegetation and flora, a gift you were born with. Flowers bloom where you walk, trees grow leaves to shield you from the sun. You're the sole reason little yellow daffodils have once again sprung up across the grounds, the servants marveling at life dwelling the halls of the otherwise dismal realm.

"My lady?"

Your eyes flit from where the man you are so enraptured by sits to your left, one of his servants kneeling at your side. You greet them with a smile and they shrink slightly, uncertain of how to react to the unweighted offering. A smile means something down here and usually it isn't anything good, a lesson you haven't yet had to learn given the way the Lord of the Underworld reciprocates the sunny glances you give him.

"Lord Geto has asked that you join him in his chambers momentarily."

That isn't what you were expecting to be told and it must show on your face, smile falling into a small "o" shape as you look down at your unimpressive robes. You took care to look nice today, of course, but you don't feel as though you should appear before him looking like this.

"I'll escort you," the servant offers and you nod, still uncertain of what will be happening behind the heavy, closed doors when he has you alone.

The two of you haven't truly been alone until this point. There's always a servant, a courier, a guest. You aren't sure one can ever be truly alone in a place like this that dwells with the damned but you rise to your feet anyway, bowing your head as you walk through the crowd and toward the corridor that leads to your destination.

His chambers are empty when you arrive but you are ushered through the doors anyway, jumping as they shut with a heavy slam behind you.

Just like that, you are left to your own devices.

The already cavernous space seems even larger when you're standing in it, eyes darting from the walls to the ceiling to the bed itself. You remember, vaguely, spending time there. You can almost recall the way the linens felt against your skin, cool and comforting. You know he touched you then, held your hands and your whimpering form if you'd wake up in the night disoriented and fearful.

It couldn't have been more than months ago but it feels like a lifetime, you're a different woman than you were the first time you rested beneath those sheets but you will always remember his kindness.

Gingerly, you step out of your spot and begin to pace around the room with your hands clasped behind your back. Your footsteps fade into background noise as you look around and wonder when he will join you, still feeling anxious about why he called you there in the first place.

Part of you hopes he will finally kiss you in the privacy of his chambers. That he'll finally do what you've felt he's on the precipice of doing for weeks, gentle brushes of your hand and his body against yours sending you reeling and running back to your own quarters to catch your breath.

Without noticing, your fingers flit to your lower lip and you rub it gently, imagining what it would be like to be kissed by a man for the first time. This is no mere man, though, this is a god.

You want to be kissed by a god.

Giddiness makes you giggle to yourself, your fingertips still rubbing an idle pattern across your lower lip as the door opens behind you. Dropping your hands to your sides, you turn toward the open doors with a smile as Suguru steps into the room.

He smiles at the sight of you too and your palms bead with sweat as he approaches you, towering a head above your own and tilts his head to the side.

"Do you remember the last time you were in here?"

Despite recalling the fuzzy outlines of what occurred during the weeks you were too tired to move just moments ago, you shake your head. You'd like to hear own retelling of the events if he'd be generous enough give it to you. He chuckles and brings his hands to your biceps, holding them gently.

"You slept for weeks," he reminds, smile still spread across his features. You don't have to know his own magic is the reason that you slept and he has no intention of informing you of such. "I sat by the bed and kept watch, I wanted to make sure personally no harm would come to you."

It's romantic, you think, the way that he cares for me.

It can't simply be the thrill of being away from home any longer that makes your stomach flutter in his presence. It isn't the forbidden fun of doing something you know your mother would hate, frolicking in a realm that doesn't belong to her at the side of a man with more power than you can imagine.

You are feeling something dangerously real and it emboldens you to bend your arms upward and grasp his wrists in your palms. His smile dims into a sultry smirk and you return it with a moon-eyed look of your own.

"I wish I remembered more about it," you mumble. His hands slide from your arms toward your face and he gently rests them on either side of your neck, thumbs resting on the delicate column of your throat.

"We have plenty of time to make memories you do remember in here," he offers and you giggle nervously. "That's not why I asked you here, though."

Your smile dims as you look at him curiously, hands still wrapped around his wrists. His smirk falls and his face becomes unreadable, eyes darkening.

"Do you believe me a monster after witnessing my work?"

Those words aren't what you were expecting to hear following his prior ones but you shake your head with urgency, tightening your hold on his wrists.

"Of course not, Suguru," you let his name slip past your lips and he squeezes the sides of your neck in response. Your eyes flutter and you stutter. "W-we all have jobs we must do even if they're ugly."

He nods once.

"I knew you'd understand."

Nothing further is elaborated but you don't mind, basking in his praise of you while watching him carefully. You look over his lips, his cheekbones, his dark eyebrows that seem knit together in concern.

"Is something the matter?"

Your voice is delicate when you ask, sweet a spring breeze it has been far too long he's felt caress his skin, and he chuckles darkly.

"I've been called away to meet with your mother and Lord Gojo."

Frozen, your eyes widen and he moves to soothe you, pulling you into his chest and pressing your cheek against his robes. Your arms fall to your sides but you move to wrap them around his waist instead, burying your face and inhaling the sharp, clean scent of him.

He smells nothing like the death you've experienced in the meadows, a bird or a faun, at times an unfortunate wanderer. He carries none of the smell of decay or ruin. Not of the rot of dead flowers, earthy and pungent enough you have to turn your head away to clear your nostrils.

Just clean, simple, pure. You inhale and savor.

"They haven't asked that you accompany me and I am making no plans to bring you."

This should concern her, he thinks. Your fate is once again being decided without your presence but you don't seem nearly as offended this time as you were the last.

"I'd rather stay here, if that's alright," you mumble against his chest and he squeezes you. This is the answer he desired, perhaps even expected, but it delights him. You made it there on your own without any gentle direction.

"Of course it is," his big hands rub your back as he soothes you. "I'll ensure you're taken care of while I'm away. You will want for nothing, I promise."

His assurances settle in your chest warmly and you unbury your face from his robes, looking up. Without thinking, you crane your neck as long as it will stretch and stand on your tip toes, pressing your lips against his chastely.

The last thing he expected was for you to be this bold but he presses his lips against yours in return nevertheless. The kiss is merely a peck, a rubbing of skin on skin instead of the tongue and teeth and saliva he'd love to share with you, but it's a message. Return home safe dances across his lips sure as your soft skin grazes them and he misses the feeling as soon as you step down, feet flat on the ground below.

Smiling down at you, he presses his lips against your forehead the same way he always does when he's about to take his leave and you deflate almost visibly knowing this means the two of you will be separated for an unknown amount of time.

"No harm will come to you nor will any decision be made without you present, understand?"

He's making a promise he can't keep yet you nod, eyes searching his face for any inkling of what could be coming.

"I must go immediately but I will return to you as soon as I'm able."

You sigh, the sound light as air, and he chuckles despite himself. Holding you for a moment longer, he kisses your forehead one final time before creating space between the two of you. You watch him head toward the door with a frown, lips still tingling with the touch of a god.

"You can stay here until I return," he mentions breezily as if the two of you are discussing meal plans and not the potential of violence that awaits him in the earthen realm. "These quarters are your own now."

You nod, looking around.

"I'll see you soon."

He exits the doors in a rush, muttering under his breath while shutting them tightly behind him. The small army he has requested to flank the doors while he's gone approaches him, standing at rest while they await their orders.

"She is not to leave this room except to take meals or explore the grounds. At least four of you must remain with her at all times."

The guards nod in unison at his orders knowing their options are obey or die and you stand blissfully unaware on the other side of the door of the fact you've just been locked into a cell until he can figure out how to keep you here permanently.

"We can't keep going this long between seeing one another, Suguru."

Geto hums unenthusiastically, stomping through the entry of your mother's sprawling estate while Lord Gojo joins him at his side, jovially sipping from the same chalice that has remained full for his entire stay on the grounds. He's certain the nymphs utterly dote on his old friend, tittering over his pretty eyes and hair, the same way everyone does.

"If it were up to me we would not meet at all, Satoru, but I appreciate your warm welcome."

Gojo clutches his chest with his free hand and cackles, tipping his head back as he matches Geto's pace with ease. The sunlight that pours into the open marble halls burns the darkened eyes of the man who was summoned here for no reason other than to be threatened and he finds his patience thinning with every word he is being forced to listen to.

"You wound me, old friend. Have you forgotten how much fun we used to have?"

Suguru snorts.

"Unfortunately, no."

They did have fun at one point in time before a war and their responsibilities turned a friendship into something uneasy - a constant power play between the man gifted with the divine dominion over everyone and everything and the man doomed to herd them after they've done their earthly wrongs. It hardly seemed fair but as you said, sometimes jobs must be done no matter how ugly they are.

"Well, if it's any consolation, I do not blame you for your misdeeds in regards to the young goddess. She is very pretty."

The mention of you makes Suguru bristle and the other god just shrugs, chuckling as he sips more wine and the two of them finally approach where your mother rests among her nymphs with her arms folded over her chest. If looks could kill, the Lord of the Underworld would surely find himself one of the damned.

"Nice of you to join us, Lord Geto. Finally able to carve enough time out of your schedule of torturing my daughter to show up?"

He offers a polite bow of his head, refusing to speak any further. A servant offers him wine and he refuses, raising a palm.

"So now you refuse an offering of wine? You truly have no sense, that's one thing about you that is perpetually true."

Satoru chuckles at his side, amused by your mother's undressing of the fellow god before her, and he recalls just how long all of you have known each other. Since you were young gods and goddesses, much like you who hasn't seemed to realize you are his captive and not his prize as he keeps insinuating.

"My demands are simple so I will not keep you for any longer than I must," your mother starts and Suguru's eyes flick upward to examine her. The two of you resemble each other enough that it's striking but you lack her venom, something he's grateful for having been bit by the snake more than once so to speak. "My daughter will be returned to me by next sunset and there will be no harm to you or your realm."

Finally, the man breaks his silence and he shakes his head with a chuckle, raven colored mane fanning around him with each movement.

"And if I refuse?"

Your mother chuckles in like, leaning forward in her sitting position. A man is smart enoguh to know when he's about to be bitten again so he takes a few steps backward.

For being a gentle Goddess of the Harvest, she sure is rotten.

"Then there will be repercussions."

He nods.

"She's happy where she's at. Come take her if you'd like to try."

Moving to turn on his heel and exit, he's stopped by a hand on his shoulder. He knows it belongs to Satoru and he sighs, tensing his shoulders to shrug him off to no avail.

"Now don't be hasty, Suguru. There is a lot at stake here."

The only thing he can think of is what's at stake being you. He could agree, send you back to this realm to pick and grow and dig until your fingers bleed. He could watch you as he has for all these years, cold and alone wondering when he'd have the opportunity to make you his own.

"If there's so much at stake, come claim what you desire so badly."

Satoru drops his hand and turns his head to look at Demeter, shrugging. His friend takes his leave, exiting through the corridor he just entered through

"There's your answer," he sniffs. "I did all I could."

If death himself is willing to die for you, there isn't much more than Satoru can do besides sit back and wonder what about you has become so enchanting to the man he'd risk it all for another taste of his little prisoner.

It has only been days since the last time you saw Suguru but you grow restless within his chambers despite the comfort they bring you.

You snuggle into his bedding, the familiar scent of him bringing only temporary ease to the pain in your heart his departure has brought, and wonder how his meeting is going but your mind drifts to things far less worrisome than if you'll be forced to return home or not.

Oddly enough, your mind settles on thinking about the man that Geto mentioned before his departure.

Lord Gojo is someone you've met a few times and you've always found him to be jovial if not a bit grating at times, flirting with the nymphs and servants without a care in the world despite his massive power. You take a moment to consider the differences between the two men, one wearing his power like a halo and the other like a noose.

You can't help but wonder if it's a difference in who they are in their hearts that led them to such opposing views of their power, perhaps even the world at large. You make a note to ask Suguru more when he returns, stretching your legs beneath the blankets over them with a frown.

The chamber doors open and you sit up, smiling as Suguru enters but your face falls noticing the droll look across his. You don't move to further cover yourself, allowing him see your bare flesh in person for the first time but the view doesn't spur the look off of his face.

"My treasure," he starts before sinking to his knees at the side of the bed. "You need to listen to everything I'm saying, okay?"

You remember this sight all too well, big hands capturing one of your own but you're grateful to be cognizant this time. He allows himself the luxury of one moment to look over you - your soft skin, your pebbled nipples topping perfect breasts, the delicate divot of your bellybutton - but the moment is fleeting as he meets your eyes and you understand the situation must be serious.

"I am willing to send the realm into disarray to keep you but I have to know that you want to be here with me and nowhere else."

Granting you a moment to think, he watches your face carefully for any sign of uncertainty. The faintest trace will mean that he failed, all of this was for nothing, but it hasn't appeared yet. You reach for his face, cupping his cheek in your small palm and he exhales, smiling serenely.

"Can you promise me freedom, Suguru?"

Pondering your words, fear seeps into his limbs but he decides to, for once, give you an honest answer. No deception, no hint of trickery despite how easy it would be for him to keep you here as his captive and not his lover. He could lock you away, post all the guards outside your door for all eternity and you'd never leave but he wants you to want him. To need him. To desire him.

"I cannot promise you freedom but I can promise you devotion like you've never experienced."

You nod and lean toward him, lips brushing against his once again. The intent is far less chaste than the first time, the heat you always feel stir inside of you when you look at him for just long enough sending fire through your limbs. Pulling away from his face for a moment, you smile and reach for his shoulders to pull him into the bed with you, to which he obliges. Kneeling above you, he searches your face and you brush his hair off of his face and over his shoulder.

"Then I promise you the same."

The confirmation he needs leaves your lips and he can hold back no longer, hungrily enveloping your lips in a kiss that you eagerly accept. It would take more time than you currently have to consider when you began to fall for this man who plucked you from your home and dropped you into a world not meant for you, so you simply choose to focus on the way his hands feel across your bare flesh.

They're as cold as you expected they'd be but it isn't unwelcome, deft fingers dancing along the underside of your soft breast while he dots your jaw and neck with sensual kisses that make your head feel the same way it does after you've enjoyed dandelion wine with the dryad back home - lighter than air and heavier than lead.

Groaning, he begins to rut his hips gently against your bare mound and you reach for the tie fastening his robes over his waist, fingers moving to untie the knot as quickly as you can. You don't expect to feel him pressed against you so quickly, the searing heat of his heavy cock sliding through your already slippery folds and catching on your sensitive clit in a way that makes you gasp.

"I-I've never done this before," you confess as if it's a sin, your stomach in your throat. He leaves his task of lavishing attention on your neck for a moment to meet your eyes, smiling in a way that makes your thighs clench around his torso.

"I'll take good care of you."

He will and he does, returning to kissing a path down your neck until he reaches your breasts, taking one pert nipple into his mouth with a lewd moan. The sound of him laving his tongue over the sensitive spot makes you arch your back, his cock still rubbing you just short of where you need him most and you whine. He releases your nipple from his mouth, the bud shining with his saliva, and cups your face.

"Patience. I'll make it worth your wait."

Switching to your opposite nipple, your back arches again, forcing more of your breast into his eager mouth. He loves seeing you already on the precipice of coming apart, fortunate to be the first and only man to ever see your lust heavy gaze.

You tear me apart, he thinks as he gazes up at you with your lashes resting against your cheek and your mouth open in a beautiful display just for him. Releasing your nipple, his hands trail down your torso and he moans, aloud, at the feeling of the hair covering your mound beneath his fingers. It's as luxurious as the rest of you and he promises on a day when less is at stake, he'll give you the attention you truly deserve. He'll bury his face in the thatch of hair and even lower, giving your cunt as many kisses as he wishes to give your pretty mouth, but with an uncertain future time is of the essence and he doesn't want to hesitate in claiming you.

Tentatively, he traces his finger along the seam of your pussy and you hiss at the teasing, canting your hips messily into his touch. This is true need, the sum of your want greater than any mishap that your clumsiness could cause, and he smirks against the top of your breast and watches your face contort in pleasure as he spreads your lips with his index finger and thumb of one hand, using his middle finger to rub methodical circles over your clit.

"Is that alright?"

He asks and all you can manage is a nod and a pant, walls flexing with each circle his finger turns over the engorged bud. Your head continues to swim and your eyes shut, your chin tipping toward the ceiling but he cannot allow you not to witness your own undoing. Using his free hand, he cups your chin gently and tips your face back down to give you a full glance at his sticky finger working its way to your entrance.

A squeak leaves you as he gently spreads the wetness seeping out of you from your cunt upward toward your clit, the slick feeling of his just his finger making your eyes roll backward in your head. This is nothing you've ever felt before but it's everything you've imagined, the gentle way he keeps kissing your breast as he finally works one finger into you making you moan. Open mouthed, hot faced, chest heaving - the exact noise he wants to hear you make for all eternity.

"Feels good?" He asks, dark eyes meeting yours as they open while he thumbs at your clit messily. Your walls constrict around his finger and it makes his already painfully swollen cock jump when he imagines how you'll feel wrapped around him like a glove.

Hips moving on their own, you try to match the pace of his finger plunging in and out of you but struggle and he takes control, hand dropping your chin and sliding down your torso to hold your hip. He helps you rock your hips gently, soft mumbles and moans leaving your lips and he knows what's about to happen before you do, cunt locking his finger inside of you.

"Oh Suguru," you pant, gnawing your lower lip and shutting your eyes tightly as you cum so hard your thighs shake with the force. He smiles against your breast and positions himself so that he's on his knees, hand that was just playing with your pussy running along his length to spread his silky pre-cum and your arousal along every inch.

Watching, your eyes widen when he slides his tip through your folds before positioning himself at your opening. He leans over your body, resting on his forearm and kisses you as he moves to enter. Blunt tip slipping inside of you, you gasp but only out of dizzying pleasure.

The noises encourage him to bury another inch, slowly giving himself over to every slick, warm part of you and you gasp in unison as he continues to bury himself deeper and deeper, finally bottoming out with a deep groan right above the shell of your ear.

"Mine," he whispers and you nod, chin resting against his shoulder as he buries his face in your neck.

There's surely no disputing it now as he begins to gently thrust, hips moving in a small, merciful rhythm.

"Yours," you whimper back, kissing the expanse of his shoulder blade between staccato moans. He feels too much, too big, too hot but you can't deny that it feels good, your walls flexing around his length as if you were made just for him.

The sensuality of the moment makes him realize he's coming close to his own orgasm and he reaches between your bodies to thumb at your clit, each touch making you squeeze around him tighter and tighter until you hold him in place once again, cumming for him twice and giving him unspoken permission to do the same.

He spills himself inside of you, the heat making you whine and he chuckles while trying to catch his breath.

"Still want to stay?" He asks, face still pressed into your neck and you nod, wrapping your tired legs around his waist to trap him against you.

A square piece of white sheet dotted with small spots of blood is dropped in front of your mother by a messenger sent from the Underworld courtesy of your beloved and she shakes with rage upon immediate understanding of the meaning of what's laying on the marble before her.

You are no longer her daughter, her prized little lamb, you belong to him.

The threat of war was just that - a threat.

Autumn and winter both passed without further questioning aside from a few additional visits from Shoko who has become your reluctant ally if not friend and confidante. She has kept you as informed as you need to be about the happenings above but, at your own request, keeps the rest to herself. You're blissfully unaware and fine with it.

Your mother's refusal to invade the Underworld with her own thin resources and Satoru's refusal to send any of his own troops after a now sullied goddess rendered all attempts to return you home as futile but you do return, on your own accord, to your meadow the day before you know your duties to bring forth the fertile season begin.

"And you're sure that you will be alright on your own?"

You nod, Suguru refusing to let go of your hand while Shoko watches him unamused. It's one thing to watch your friend fall in love, it's another to watch him behave like a lovesick child with no other choice.

"Let her go, Suguru. She has work to do."

He glares in the direction of the goddess who shrugs as if to say "it wasn't my choice" about your decision to return to fulfill your duties each spring. You know things cannot run without you here and he agreed knowing how much it means to you, letting you live barefoot in the sunlight for three months of the year.

His flowers stay in bloom even while you're gone, yellow painting his walk every morning while you're away.

"I'll see you soon, okay? Don't miss me too much."

Returning to your work came naturally, watching life spring forth from you as comforting as the sound of your own heartbeat and you can't hide your smile looking overhead to watch your very own protector in the form of a blackbird flying in wide circles above you.

"You think that's him?" A dryad asks innocently and you nod, gaze still fixed above despite your hands already working their magic on the yellow and brown grass below your feet.

"It is."

#geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #kendall writes #first full length on this blog lalalalalalalalalalalaaaaaa

[rose-tea-and-strawberries]

One of my favourite tropes in fics where Fem!Yuu/Reader is dating a Dorm Leader is that the whole dorm collectively think of Yuu/Reader as a sort of second in command.

Like the second she/you enters a dorm, she’s/you’re given the princess treatment because that’s the Dorm Leader’s important person (and because they really like her/you as well) - and I bet that the majority of the dorm have cute little puppy crushes on her/you as well. Whenever there’s a problem involving their leader or they can’t tell the leader for some reason, the first person they think of is Yuu/you (hah).

I especially love it when Yuu/Reader is the Persephone to Ignihyde’s Hades. These technology obsessed shut-ins practically worship the ground she walks on. Whenever they’re left to their own devices, Ignihyde is as dark and dreary as the Underworld but the moment she enters it’s like they’re being graced by some sort of celestial being.

I also love it when Yuu/Reader basically has full command of the entire deck of card soldiers or herd of beastmen or basically an army of powerful magic users from any dorm who are more than reader to be her/your personal body guards

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst yuu #fem yuu #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #fem reader

[undertheorangetree]

Pomegranate Seeds

Summary- A retelling of the abduction of Persephone.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ NSFW. Female reader. Hades and Persephone AU. Star-crossed lovers vibes. Uncle/niece incest. Making out. Angst. Fluff. Titty sucking. Handjob. Cunnilingus. Vaginal fingering. Soft smut. Mild praise kink. Mildly OOC Aemond.

Author's Notes- Yeah I was a Percy Jackson/Greek mythology kid, thank you for noticing. I'm still playing incredibly fast and loose with the mythology tho so we're gonna have to make our peace with that. This is a beast btw, it's like 9.6K and you can find the rest on AO3 with the link below :)

divider created by @firefly-graphics

It is moments like these, she thinks, that she loves most.

Alone in the meadow, surrounded by wildflowers, the babbling of the creek as it flows over the rocks. Everything green with the exception of the purple, white, and yellow flowerheads but lush and everbearing and alive, the sun little more than a hazy warm glow, not yet hot enough to be overbearing. It is peaceful here, so much more than she is used to. She had come to an agreement with her step sisters, Baela and Rhaena, that they allow her a few hours on her own in this meadow, undisturbed by anyone else. Though her mother much preferred to that she remain alongside her sisters whenever she is out of sight, she, Baela, and Rhaena had come to an agreement that what her mother didn’t know couldn’t hurt her. And besides, they were never too far away from her. Being water nymphs, they could be by her side in less than a moment if she really needed them, so long as she doe does not stray too far from the river. And she has never been more grateful for it than she is right now.

Stretching her arms high above her head, she stretches out along the grass, enjoying the feeling of every blade of grass, the sweet smell of the blooms wafting on the breeze. Admittedly, this meadow had not been quite so plentiful when they had found it, following along the winding river, but she is the goddess of spring. Flowers bloom at her word and sun shines with her will. It had not been too difficult to turn this meadow into her own personal paradise, away from the chaos often wrought by her mother and brothers and stepfather.

There is a sudden change in the wind that causes her to sit up. Colder than it had been before, something more akin to winter than spring. The ground seems to rumble beneath her, shaking as if the sudden cold has sent it to shiver. Curiously, she turns her head toward the tree line, where the birches and willows keep the meadow shielded from view, only to find a man standing among them. Dressed in all black- breeches, cloak, and the shred of his tunic she can see beneath it- his platinum hair is almost jarring in contrast. He is not a big man, long and lithe, but there is an air to him that feels dangerous, dangerous enough to give her pause. He has not noticed her yet, face turned away, but she can see the long, stern plains of his face from where she sits, looking incredibly serious. That seriousness is only exacerbated by the dark leather eyepatch covering the eye closest to her, a deep red scar carved beneath it.

She does not think she has ever seen anyone here before, not outside of Baela, Rhaena, and herself, and his presence here is almost incongruous. Still, there is an air about him, one that makes it clear that he is a god just as she is, and that alone should make his surprise appearance less shocking.

“Hello.”

The sound of her voice seems to catch him off guard. Quickly, he turns toward her, shoulders tense, but they relax when he takes her in. She cannot imagine that she is intimidating, sitting flat in the grass all alone. “Hello.”

But it is that reminder of the grass that brings her pause. What is this man doing here? Where had he come from? It is not as if this meadow is easy to find, hidden amongst the trees as it is. She feels her brows furrow, head cocking in question. “How did you find this place?”

She had not put a glamour over this meadow, but she did not feel she had too. The forest, though light and airy, was a labyrinth of trees that seemed deterrent enough to keep any unwanted guests away. They were incredibly difficult to find your way through and she had been convinced it would be impossible to try- for God or mortal.

Near impossible, it seemed then.

His eye darts back to the treeline, taking half a step back. “If I am intruding, I can leave.”

“No.” She says it far too quickly and she can see the way his eyebrows raise in response to it, but she can’t find it in her to be ashamed. She is intrigued by this man, more so than she likely should be, and finds she wants to know more. To learn how he came to find this place. “Just because this place is unknown does not mean it is mine alone. You may stay. Beauty like this should be enjoyed.”

“Wise words,” he agrees, coming toward her. He hesitates at the end, torn on whether or not to truly join her, but it seems courtesy wins out as he lowers himself to the ground, joining her amongst the flowers. He looks entirely out of place, black against the blooms, but she says nothing, keeping her observation to herself.

They sit in absolute silence but she does not mind. He sits stiffly, as if uncomfortable, while she continues to take in all that is around her. From here, she can see the way the willows sway with the wind, the white puffy clouds floating by in the soft blue sky.

“I did not mean to,” he says. She looks at him, head tilted once again. “To find this place. It was not my intention. Though I admit I have never seen anything quite like it.”

She smiles, though he could not possibly know that he had complimented her. “It is a rare thing.”

“It feels almost as if it were from a painting,” he adds, looking around the meadow to take it in further.

She joins him in it, finding no shame in admiring her own work. It is a pretty place, though that had always been her intention. Olympus was beautiful in and of itself, but it was stark in that way. Ethereal and otherworldly, but cosmopolitan. Bright white marble, painted statues, stained glass. Everything beautiful, to be sure, but not in the untamed way that she seemed to crave. She preferred the beauty that was found in nature, in heavy branches filled with green leaves, tall grasses and wildflowers and crystalline waters.

“Do you know much about art?” she asks to fill the silence.

He seems caught off guard again from her question, but answers it anyway. “Not as much as I would like, but I can appreciate the beauty in something as well as any man. Though do not tell anyone. It would ruin my reputation.”

She laughs. “You needn’t worry. Your secret is safe with me. Which periods do you prefer?”

They talk for hours, the conversation unfurling as naturally as a bird’s wing. Art, history, philosophy. There is no subject they do not indulge in. He becomes less awkward with time as he grows more comfortable around her and she almost pulls a laugh from him not once, but twice. It seems quite the feat, for a man as serious as this one seems to be, though she does not let her pride get the better of her. When she asks him how she managed to find her well kept secret, he had simply said that one always finds the best things when you are not looking for them. A non answer, but that was alright. She was sure she could coax the answer from him eventually.

“Forgive me, I never asked you your name,” she says after what must have been hours, half appalled by her lack of manners.

He does not seem to mind, a good natured half smile making its way onto his face. “My friends call me Aemond. You may as well.”

It is not uncommon, for Gods to prefer more earthly names. She is often the same. There is power within a name and for such an innocent encounter, she does not feel the need to have him call her Persephone or Kore or any of those that strike some rumination of power and fear. So she gives him her common name, the one she feels is more true to who she is, and he smiles in response to it, repeating it back to her as if to test it. She likes the way it sounds when he says it, the way each letter seems to roll off him tongue, and somehow hearing him say the word alone is enough to make her flush.

She turns her head to hide it and only then notices that the sun has dipped below the trees, leaving the sky a hazy orange. Her mother will be expecting her home soon and there is no telling how poorly she will react if Rhaena and Baela return home without her. She doesn’t doubt that Rhaenyra will send her great serpent Syrax after her should she be even a moment late.

“I have to go,” she says, unable to keep the apologetic tone from her voice.

Reluctantly, she stands, brushing the dirt from her skirts. His lips had parted at her announcement, but now he ducks his head in an understanding nod. She smiles at him, not truly wanting to go yet, and makes her way toward the creek to call upon her sisters to come and fetch her. She does not make it two steps before he is calling after her.

“Can I see you again?”

She turns back to look at him. The insecurity on his face does not seem to match his features, looking almost out of place there. Still, she finds it entirely endearing and she realizes that she would absolutely like to see him again.

“Yes,” she agrees softly.

“Tomorrow?”

She does not bother to fight the smile itching its way onto her face. “Yes.”

He matches her smile then before standing. He comes forward and takes her hand, bringing her knuckles to his lips and placing a chaste kiss there. “Then I shall see you on the morrow, my lady.”

She can do nothing but hope he does not notice how hot her face has become.

“On the morrow.”

Read the rest here

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen smut #aemond smut #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen #hotd #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon

[mask131]

I want to briefly adress another BIG misconception about Greek gods that has (quite recently) been going on around the Internet. And it is again part due to the Percy Jackson TV show. I insist on the "TV show", because as we now know, the TV show made some changes to the book's original plotline when it came to the gods interacting with their children (like Athena's move with Echidna *cough cough*), and as a result here is what I have been hearing here and there.

"Yeah, well the Greek gods were all assholes, right, but what PJ REALLY got right was that they were especially assholes to their own children and the worst abusive parents ever".

... No?

In fact this is almost a counter-interpretation of Greek mythology, because in Greek myths and legends, the whole point was that, when a god was being an "asshole" as you say, they were an asshole to everybody... except their children. One of the reasons the Greek gods can look "bad" by modern standards is precisely because they had an habit of favorizing their own children, and taking care about them more than about other beings.

The most famous of these myths is of course Demeter's immense love and hyper-protection of Persephone - just look at the trials she went through to find her back after she disappeared.

Another famous example is how Poseidon turned on Odysseus and plagued him with curses and monsters for blinding his son - Polyphemus the cyclop (and the whole point here is that Poseidon favorized his son, despite his son being the actual criminal and monster in the case)

Ares, who was not one of the best gods, still went on an avenging mode every time his children were attacked, from the dragon slain by Cadmos to the rape of Alcippe.

There's how Apollo went berserk after the death of Asclepios. There's how Herakles had planned to be favorized by Fate since his birth thanks to Zeus, and how the entire reason Zeus inflicted on his wife the atrocious torture of hanging chained up by the sky was because he had enough of her constantly tormenting Herakles in the worst ways possible. Even Athena ended up taking care of Erichthonius as her own child despite her not being his true mother - showing that even the virgin, sexless, childless goddess has a mothering side to her.

It all goes back to Gaia, and how she keeps turning against Zeus for each time vanquishing her children - from the Titans, to the Giants, to Typhon - despite these children being again, bad news and even hurting Gaia herself. Another example of "primordial motherhood": Nyx shelters Hypnos from Zeus' wrath in the Iliad, and not even Zeus would dare anger such an elderly mother-goddess. And if we push beyond the boundaries of Greek mythology and into the very late Roman literature, we see this trend continues with Aphrodite's smothering-mothering of Eros during the Psyche legend.

A good lot of conflicts and feuds and problems in Greek mythology was precisely due to how much the gods loved their children, and how protective they were of them - with the problem that the god had the tendency to be blind to whether their children were good or evil, victims or criminals.

This is why, for example, Zeus and Hera's relationships to their children were especially important and unique in Greek myths, in the light of this god's tendency to favorize and spoil and protect their own children.

On Hera's case, her action of, for example, throwing Hephaistos into the sea at birth just because he is "ugly" is meant to come off as massively shocking. Remember that in a good bunch of Greek myths, Hera had a negative, evil, dangerous side to her, that popped up in various ways - from her jealous, vain, angry personality to how in some versions she literaly gave birth to Typhon... Unlike Zeus, who was the "ultimate father", Hera wasn't (in myths, I insist) seen as a postive mother, and was more of a mother-of-monsters avatar (after all, she did command a lot of Greek monsters), or an anti-mother (she was the one who prevented Leto from giving birth, a powerful symbol).

On the other side, Zeus was also seen regularly punishing or being very harsh to his children, but there was the secret to his character: Zeus had to act both as a father, and as a king. He embodied the all loving ancestor and the all powerful father, but he also had to act as the embodiment of law and of justice, and those two aspects of his personality clashed a lot. We see him punish his divine children regularly, but almost always because his role as the enforcer of the law primed over his role as a father - for example when he wanted to throw Apollo into Tartarus because he had caused a Cyclop genocide out of anger. But he still had this same "over-parenting" side as the other gods. Again, Herakles was one of his favorite children and he tried to arrange everything so that he could have the greatest life ever - but his official side as the "political" and "civilization" god caught up to him when Hera tricked him into swearing away the gifts he had intended for Herakles. Despite Zeus' immense love for his son, his oath and the law he embodies took over and prevented him from sheltering Herakles from Hera's hatred. The most revealing case of this "father vs king" aspect of Zeus' personality comes from the Iliad: it is the death of Saperdon.

When Zeus looks upon the Trojan War and sees that his son will soon die, he is very heavily tempted from interfering. He explicitely wishes to save him, and to change the scales of fate to avoid his impending death (because remember in the Iliad Zeus was still the god of fate who literaly weighed humans' destinities in his scale). That's his "father" side showing up. But then Hera, who is by his side, who is his queen and thus his "political" side, reminds him of his duty as a king and of his role as ultimate judge of the world and ruler of the gods. She points out he would break the very own law he imposed of not interfering with the mortal conflict. She reminds him that, as the setter of examples, if he saved Sarpedon, he would create a precedent and other gods could also start saving their own children from the war. She reminds him that he has a role as the god of law and fate, and that he can't allow his personal feelings to interfere in the matter, else he would be unfair and unjust. And thus, Zeus resignates himself to let his son die before his eyes - but he still shows his immense love for him by both sending a shower of blood as a sign of his grief, and then ordering Apollo, Hypnos and Thanatos in person to carry Sarpedon's corpse away (predating future legends about great kings and heroes taken into the afterlife by supernatural figures, like Arthur collected by Morgan and the ladies of Avalon).

In conclusion: having the gods act as if they were all bad, abusive, absent parents not getting involved in their children's life or not caring about them is actually going against what the mythology originally said in terms of characterization. The untold rule of Greek mythology was that, if gods were bad parents, it would be because they were too loving, too protective, too smothering, too spoiling, interfering too much. Not the other way around - unless you were Hera, of course. Meanwhile, having the gods act as "assholes" and bullies towards OTHER GODS' children, now that would be accurate to Greek mythology (this is the very basis of Hera's cycle of legends as a persecuting goddess). But the gods usually stuck by the side of their own children - a bit like how in a school's football or soccer game the parents end up fighting each other because of what their children did or did not do in the game.

#greek mythology #greek gods #greek goddesses #zeus #hera #misconceptions #percy jackson

[antiloreolympus]

What is LO Cooking?!

I heard Lore Olympus was ending soon, so I caught up, and wow, it somehow got worse. The main thing I'm stuck on is Hera being the fertility goddess.

I don't know about y'all, but this is NOT the same person. But I assume this is for the reveal to be a 'surprise'.

((If you have to switch up a character's whole look and remove their only "unique" trait (mole) for a surprise, maybe don't do it.))

To continue, while this recent episode (273) depicts Zeus as awful for using Hera's powers. It also doesn't explain why Metis couldn't fight Kronos herself.

I haven't read the fast pass, but I'm going to make an educated guess that Hera is going to solo Kronos easily like Persephone did.

If this is the case, wouldn't that mean Metis was powerful enough to stop Kronos on her own, and she simply chose not to? Not only that, but she and Hera could've teamed up him if they were this powerful on their own.

It's very odd how this story wants me to believe Zeus did this only out of greed and not necessity if even Metis can't handle Kronos.

Also, Metis not only didn't take Kronos out but kept the truth from Hera? The blame is instead shifted to Zeus as if Metis didn't have the responsibility of telling her daughter.

If the story is willing to critique Demeter for lying to Persephone, why isn't Metis getting the same heat story wise?

This isn't me saying Zeus is justified using Hera's powers post-titanomachy as that is unacceptable (RIP Zeus Stans). Only in the context of defeating Kronos.

It just feels like another way for Metis to be seen as a "caring mom" as if she didn't sleep with Young Zeus, knowing two of her kids had a crush on him.

- - -

The potential reasons I have are between:

"RS didn't think this through and made Metis such a terrible mother that most of the aftermath could've been prevented if she had either fought Kronos on her own or taught Hera how to use her powers."

Or

"Hera (and Metis to an extent) wouldn't have been able to use the full extent of their abilities without a man using them as a battery first."

Both of these are terrible, and I hate it here.

#anti lo #anti lore olympus #lo critical #lore olympus critical #i came back for the end of this series #doubting my decision rn #not even gonna talk about hera's new form

[hashtagloveloses]

im still kind of in disbelief that that the internet like...turned on lore olympus. i get the whole "once something is popular people make it their personality to hate something", and the "incredibly online people make age gap discourse about immortal gods bc they need to touch grass," and you're certainly not obligated to like it, it's not everyone's cup of tea, but like. it is a genuinely good comic. its issues are no worse than like, most serialized web comics that have to struggle with the medium, and its art style is engaging and interesting, and has improved a lot over time. i know there was a very t*rf-led movement on here a LONG time ago starting discourse about greek myths to get crypto t*rf shit about femininity across and i know thats where some critiques come from. and it's weird that many criticisms of "modern retellings" get blamed on lore olympus bc it doesnt actually follow them - like, demeter isnt some crazy bitch, she's a character with complexity and depth.

yes the original intent of the story is changed, a story that women in ancient times could relate to about the fears of marriage, but LO actually does what modern retellings of old stories do best - modify a story to serve a similar purpose, but reflecting the modern audience's contemporary issues. in this case, embracing the complexities of love and marriage as a survivor of sexual assault, something many modern women struggle with. persephone's relationship with demeter ALSO reflects a very real struggle many modern young women have, of finding identity and sexual agency as an adult when your entire life has been controlled by a helicopter mother, even with the best intentions, and with her own trauma.

i also find the criticisms of the body types and sexuality often misogynistic and weird - people want things with a distinct, interesting style, they want women with sexual agency to be promoted and not sanitized, and yet LO gets over-criticized. how persephone dresses, how the other gods dress, changes a lot depending on level of confidence, mood, etc, and is a part of the storytelling in an interesting way. you don't have to like it, and i know there's jokes about the LO art style of drawing women, but i have a body like some of those bodies. i know other people who do, or at least similarly. it's not like a lot of comics or manga or anime where everyone is a stick, and they get to be sexy! it's nice!

and when people complain that its the only webcomic people read well then thats a YOU problem. i read a LOT of webcomics. i talk about them to people, i recommend them. romantic and otherwise. do you? do you spend as much time complaining about lore olympus as you do talking up other cool webcomics that deserve attention?

#original post #lore olympus #this is a rant ive been meaning to post for a while

[icanseethefuture333]

What blessings are coming for you in 2024?

collab with @sunkissedchld 💛

Please go check out her post here!

Pile 1:

Shufflemancy -

Half Full by JGrrey

Radioactive by Imagine Dragons

I by Jaden

Signs: 818, silver, wires, blue, green, white, ocean, the sun, blue daisies, braided hair or material, mandalas, wall tapestries, old keys, doors being locked, mirrors, rosaries, crosses, anointing oil, Poseidon, Percy Jackson, Yemaya, honey biscuits, & beignets

Service, Change, Mirror, Heart With A Key, The Sword & Rose, & Liberator

For 2024, pile 1, I see that there is going to be some big changes! "Out with the old, in with the new". In 2023, you could have paid a big service to others by helping them with their needs, which led to putting everyone else above your own personal goals. Helping others can be a good thing but it is alright to be "selfish" at times! I feel that you think if you do good by others you will attract good karma into your life or the universe will magically bless you for your good deeds, when that's not how it works. If you wish for change, you have to be the change you seek. For 2024, you should focus on your self concept and understanding how the 3D works. The 3D reality is your external world, it will reflect back to your most inner prominent thoughts. You have the key to manifest your best potential. Harness your skills and work on improving them. Be careful with your triggers as well. The universe will test you along your journey. So you may experience things that are an inconvenience or attract things you may not necessarily "want". For example, if you are manifesting wealth in 2024, but keep having issues with your finances. Instead of reacting to this and having thoughts or complaints that you're "broke". Release the fears that you have regarding abundance. If you are manifesting money but only receive a $20 dollar bill, be grateful for that $20 dollar bill, for someone else may not even have cash at all. Think of it as a small start to success. You have to liberate yourself from limiting beliefs and see the prosperity that surrounds you and that it is also given to you. If you are someone who sees things as "glass half empty", your perspective will change graciously and the blessings in 2024 will teach you how to see with a "glass half full". The new year will provide you with inner peace and clarity within yourself. You will also be divinely guided and protected during this time!

Pile 2:

Shufflemancy -

Glitter by Tyler The, Creator

Kolors by Monte Booker ft. Smino

Hey, Mickey! By Baby Tate ft. Saweetie

Signs: 222, Valentine's day, hearts, box of chocolates, kiss marks, pink, lavendar, red, lip stains on cups, baby cupid, Venus/Aphrodite, Persephone, Oshun, passion fruit, roses, makeup, bow & arrow, crown, metal, armor, knights, princesses, folklore, playing dolls, roleplay, fairytale romance storybooks, childhood nostalgia, 90/2000s movies, & Y2K

Love (2x 💕), Patience, Kisses, Cupid's Arrow, Soulmates, & Knight

Okayyyy!! This pile is stepping into their it girl/boy/enby era 💅🏽! This is too cute ✨️. You will be more popular than usual this year, pile 2. Your guides are wanting you to embrace this! You could be really shy and wish to avoid the spotlight, but you will be causing yourself a great disfavor by doing this! You are going to be so radiant, magnetizing, & beautiful this year and this is going to draw others to you. I am getting a vision of like those popular girls who walk down the hallway in a 2000s movie with their hair blowing in the wind and everyone else is just in complete awe of them. There could be significant changes to your hair, skin, and wardrobe, maybe even your physical features. Your hair could grow longer, healthier, and look shiny, while your skin would appear softer, dewy, and refreshed. I see that your guides will be blessing you financially to support this lifestyle and to overall enhance your beauty. "You have lived in the shadows of others for too long, you're meant to shine baby!" I feel that many people in your path have made you feel smaller than you actually are and your guides want you to know that you are meant to do something big in this lifetime. They wish to boost your confidence. In 2023, you were the underdog, but you are going to rise to the top in 2024. You will also have a lot of admirers this year! You will be weary of this and feel anxious, fearing that these people are trying to deceive you. There is no need to worry about this though, pile 2! Ease your thoughts and affirm that you are worthy of love, praise, and attention. Your inner beauty is going to be radiating through your physical vessel and this is going to be so intriguing to others. You could be attracting friends, lovers, & sexual partners. If you have been single for a while and waiting for the divine to bless you with a romantic suitor, then it is very likely that you will be in a relationship for 2024. There is someone here who is in love you and desires to be in a committed relationship with you. They will be very charming, romantic, and chivalrous towards you. I interpert this as self love as well! The love you have for yourself is going to transcend into the universe. It's like the Care Bear stare. The Care Bears were able to love others and reciprocate it as well. Allow yourself to give & receive this year!

Pile 3:

Shufflemancy -

Forever Young by BLACKPINK

Queendom by Red Velvet

Call Me Maybe by Carly Rae Jepswn

Signs: 333, giggling, laughing randomly or uncontrollably, people smiling at you, cameras, taking pictures, making videos, beaches, palm trees, upbeat music, nostalgic for music from your younger days, manic pixie character movie tropes, yellow, highlights, hair dye, bangs, high top sneakers, high waisted denim shorts, shuffling dance, longboards, swimsuits, pranks, Hermes, magic tricks, road trips, summer break, festivals, carnivals, & clowns

Self Esteem, Humor, Perservance, Girl Talk, Camera, Paradise, & Trickster

For some of you, the show "Dollface" or the movie "Joy Ride" could be significant. In 2024, you will be reuniting with some old friends of yours or making new ones. You could be getting over a break up from 2023 and the universe wishes to bless you with people who will stay in your life long term. This person you were with romantically or sexually could have left you feeling very depleted. As if they wasted your time and energy. You may have been feeling lonely or a bit lost, wishing you had people there for you to cheer you up. If you had friends that used to be close to you that you miss and have gotten out of touch with, it would be best to try contact them! You will never know unless you try :D! If you are someone who's never really had friends, then I see you coming across people soon. You will have to come out of your shell though and have the confidence to strike up a conversation with people. You will see that you are actually quite funny and a joy to be around! I'm getting a vision of like sleepovers and movie nights. This could have been your favorite to do when you were younger. I feel you should focus on creating new memories for yourself in 2024 and don't be afraid of doing those cheesy things you did as a teenager. Create photo books, make collages, talk on the phone all night long, go out ob trips on a whim, etc. There is so much more to life than just wanting to find your life long significant other. There's this joke that's I've been seeing on social media where it's like a young adult is either married or have kids and then people say "oh she 23? Shawty should be in the club" and it's true 😭! Don't waste your youth away worried about finding the one, just go have fun! It doesn't matter how old you are! Wear those heels and put yourself out there! You are going to regret it if you don't focus on your happiness in the future so make it happen. In 2024, your life will be spontaneous and adventurous!

Pile 4:

Shufflemancy -

American Girl by Bonnie McKee

Sweet by BROCKHAMPTON

SAD GIRLZ LUV MONEY (Remix) by Amaarae ft. Kali Uchís

Signs: 444, Seshat, Athena, money in hidden places or on the street, vivid dreams, orange, green, STEM student, university, class, fire, drug commercials, hospitals, blood drawings, shots, measurements, glass, gas, science, chemistry, ball & chain, monopoly, dice, game pieces, poker cards, & checkers

Happiness, Health, Addiction, Abundance, Passion, & Visionary

For some of you, it was possible you were suffering from a lot of issues with your health in 2023. You could have been more prone to getting sick and catching colds, the flu, etc. Your health will be doing much better in 2024! I also see if you are a STEM student, I see your grades improving or you will graduate this year! Congratulations! This message only applies to a select few, but in 2024 I see that you will successfully become sober and overcome any addictions you had! Regardless of which of these resonates with you - there is a big focus on achievements with your health. Whether that is your health or other people's health you are taking care of, things will be looking great ❤️‍🩹! I see that you are very passionate regarding your career as well and there could potentially be some opportunities coming your way in 2024. I feel that a lot of the people in this pile are studying or work in law, the medical field, or do something along the lines of STEM (science, technology, engineering, & mathematics). You are very studious, smart, and bright! I see that in 2024, you will not be taking no for an answer and will do whatever it takes to achieve your goals. Your determination will be admired by others and I see that you will pass many job interviews or receive a big internship soon. There is going to be an opportunity coming your way that will be blessing you financially. Pay attention to your intuition and how it will make you feel. If something makes you happy and feel good inside, it is meant for you. If you feel a bad vibe or something is not right, trust your gut instincts! Do not allow others to pressure, persuade, or force you into doing things you don't want to. I also believe this ties in with the addiciton factor, the people in your path could be codependent on you or they will try to push you into doing things that are not beneficial for your growth. You are not obligated to do anything these people say, focus on your best interest. Either cut these people off or stay away from them, pile 4! It is very important that when you go into the new year that you stay away from any substances that are harmful to your health. Regardless, you will be very happy, healthy, and wealthy in the upcoming year 🏆!

#pac #pick a card #pick a pile #tarot #tarot cards #tarot readings #free tarot reading #new year #Spotify #oracle cards #2024 #astrology #astro observations #wicca #hoodoo #witchcraft #manifestation #law of assumption #law of attraction #self concept

[moneypowerglorymiddleofmiami]

Reader as Persephone's only daughter? And she doesn't get into relationships bc of her mother's past as she was kidnapped by Hades?? Like History repeats itself with Luke being so obsessed with her and the reader doesn't know that she'll just end up like her mother

hello, hello! this one is definitely long overdue. i've been very busy with uni, but this ask was very intriguing!!! thank you for sending, anon ♡ (bonus scene at the end lol)

Luke Castellan wasn’t immediately taken by her the first time she set foot on Camp Half-Blood, that much was certain. She was only a topic of interest because she was Persephone’s daughter, promised yet unexpected all the same. He was far too caught up with claiming his own hoard of kleos to entertain ideas of attraction; however, she became a friend soon enough.

“What are you growing?” He asked her during a spring afternoon years ago, so insignificant that a normal person would forget it entirely.

“I don’t know yet actually.” She responded with pursed lips. Her open palms lingered just above the brown earth, colorful beads dangled from her wrists.

Luke raised an eyebrow.

At his silence, she looked up then waved a packet in front of him. She smiled. “Secret stash from Persephone.”

“Now, I’m not really the boss or anything but I think I’ve been here long enough to know the rules.” He perched his forearm against the bark of a tree, leaning his weight against it. “I don’t think that’s allowed.”

“But you wouldn’t tell on me, would you?” She batted her eyelashes sweetly, jokingly. She turned back to her lump of land. “‘Sides, they're harmless… I think.”

He remained silent and observed as a sprout quickly rose from the depths of her plot. A number of curved leaves on top leaning stems dotted the once empty ground. She rose from her knees, dusting off pellets of grass that hitched onto her clothing.

“That's it?” He asked her, sounding very unimpressed. Was this the extent of her god-gifted abilities?

She narrowed her eyes at him as she stretched. “I don’t give a show for free, Castellan.”

“What do you want in exchange, then?” He asked curiously. He wanted to see— witness what Persephone’s little seedling was capable of flowering.

She thought for a moment then shrugged her shoulders. She walked away from him with a wave. “Grow something of your own then we negotiate the terms.”

A few weeks later, he proudly paraded a plant pot all around camp in search of her. Most of the younger kids looked at him a bit judgmentally when he held it up like he was Rafiki and the little thing was his Simba.

She emerged from the greenhouse after several vexingly loud knocks. She looked down at Luke’s outstretched arms, her lips twitching in amusement at the container filled with inch-long two-leaved sprouts.

“Strawberries?” She pursed her lips. She motioned to the fields of berries sprawling to the left of them. “A bit unoriginal considering…”

“Well, you didn’t tell me I wasn’t allowed to grow strawberries.” He reasoned.

“Touché.” She ceded. She placed a hand over the pot, the sprouts growing exponentially before she took it from Luke's hands. She spent a handful of minutes transferring them into the dirt.

Luke watched silently, interested and intrigued by the alacrity with which she moved.

“Can you look away for a sec?” She spoke suddenly. She turned towards him, all seriousness. “The glaring is pressuring them. They’re a bit self-conscious.”

“Oh.” He looked away immediately, distracting himself instead with the silvers of light that shone through the canopy of branches of a tree not far from him. He listened to her hum as she worked. He couldn't help but return his gaze to her once in a while.

“Done!” She proclaimed excitedly, pulling off her gardening gloves with a satisfied look on her face.

Three strawberry bushes stood before him, taking up residence in what was an empty patch of land mere seconds ago. His lips parted slightly in surprise— it definitely wasn’t uncommon for demi-gods to inherit some of their parents’ powers, but he was startled by how quickly it manifested, especially for botanokinesis.

“Impressed enough?” She crossed her arms with a grin.

“Just the right amount.” He responded casually, returning her smile. He bent down to pick a big ripe berry from the branches.

He bit into it, the juices trickling down his chin. “Sweet.”

He offered the other half to her. She looked down at it skeptically before Luke urged her with a slight little shake from the bundle of leaves at the fruit’s head. She took it into her own hold then lifted it up to her mouth.

𓇢𓆸𓏲𓇬𑁍

In her iteration of the story, Luke wasn’t merely a stand-in for Hades. He wasn’t simply her captor— he was also her pomegranate. His smiles, his looks, his words, his lies, his charm and his wit were all the seeds she foolishly consumed over the years. She yearned desperately for the tart sweetness he offered and unknowingly caused her own captivity.

Bound, bent and broken: this was the fate of Persephone’s only child.

In the darkness of the night, with the hum of Luke’s faint snoring keeping her senses alive despite the late hour, she wondered to herself briefly: was this how her mother felt?

She paused at the thought. Surely, it was a thousand times worse for her mother— a dread and pain so unfathomable that she couldn’t even begin to imagine it. Persephone was innocent; she was tricked and taken advantage of. She, however, was complicit: ignorant at first, but willing to succumb to Luke’s pleas and promises even if she knew the horrors of what he was attempting to do.

“Can’t sleep?” He whispered suddenly, jolting her out of her reverie. His hand moved to rest against her hip, his thumb stroking comforting circles onto her skin.

“Hm,” She hummed absent-mindedly. She turned around to face him, breathing in the scent of sea and sweat that lingered on him— a glaring reminder of what he was getting himself into.

Luke caged his arms around her then pressed a kiss against her temple. "Mine."

"Yours." She responded softly.

He returned to sleep in a matter of seconds, but he held her firmly against him. She couldn’t escape even if she wanted to. She didn’t even want to, anyway.

She closed her eyes. Luke’s presence was her prison, and she was insane enough to willingly stay shackled, albeit metaphorically, regardless of how horrific that sounded.

This was her underworld— her own dauntingly lovely elysium.

BONUS scene from my first draft that i didn't continue writing:

“Well, what’s her master plan then?” She asked. “Why kidnap me?”

“You’re Persephone’s daughter.” He shrugged his shoulders, as if that was enough explanation as to why the leader of a rebellion against the gods wanted to kidnap the spawn of the Goddess of Spring— really, what did he think she was gonna do for him? Grow daffodils and tulips to distract his enemies? It didn’t seem like horticulture proved useful on the battlefield.

“I am not going to grow potatoes and peas for her little revolt, Castellan.” She scoffed.

Of course she knew why she was being held captive. Pretending to be foolish and ignorant never hurt anybody, though. Let him think she was dumbed down enough to bend to his will.

“You’re basically Hades’ daughter.” He continued, essentially bypassing her reply. It was a bit rude, honestly, but the fact that he kidnapped her showed plenty about the state of Luke’s manners.

“Careful what you say, Lukey.” She would’ve wagged her fingers if her wrists weren’t so tightly bound together. “You might just insult another one of the gods.”

Her relationship with her stepfather was… civil yet glacial at best; definitely on brand for him, actually. On her annual winter-break visits to the Underworld, he’d just ignore her for the most part (very understandable, there wasn’t much in common between an eons-old powerful god and a nineteen year old, except the angst probably, but that was a very awkward topic to breach with a father figure). Most of the time, she assumed he just tolerated her because of her mother.

“With you on board, Hades is going to think twice before attacking,” He explained further. He began to pace in front of her. “Your presence might even dissuade him from attacking at all.”

Oh. Oh.

“Sweetheart,” She called him softly with a condescending coo in her tone. “Oh, sweetie. You’re delusional.”

#luke castellan x you #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #pjo tv show #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #pjo

[uzurimisery]

chapter 1: the setting. / coriolanus snow / nsfw

Watching TBOSAS rekindled my love of this series and Tom Blyth makes young Snow sexy.

wc: 4,422

waring: smut, misogyny, dubcon, toxic relationships, snow is insane, not beta read

AO3 version here | Series Master

“You’re to take Y/N to the gala and after that the two of you will begin a show of courting for the Capitol to watch.”

Coriolanus Snow found you to be a thorn in his side. An unknown variable. You were wellbred stock, perfect for carrying on a bloodline, but somehow you were as disgraced as those from the Districts. Even before the war had started and ended Coriolanus found you insufferable. Too aggressive, undisciplined, and unpredictable. He liked reading people, at this point he’d say he could read others better than they could read themselves. But you were a blank slate. Wellbred, well read, and well insufferable. The only reason he even pretended to care about you was who your mother was. 

Dr. Volumnia Gaul was more of a creator than a mother. Mothers cared and nurtured their children with love and compassion, two emotions Gaul was incapable of. Funny considering she was once an obstetrician. It was there that she had been introduced to your father, another prominent Capitol resident, and had you. She liked you, surely, often willing to give you more grace than others for their mistakes, but love would be going too far. Perhaps her being your mother is why Coriolanus liked you even less, you had all of her traits he disliked the most. 

The Snow family had always been led by men, a tradition passed down from father to son, an unbroken chain of masculine dominance. But the Gauls were different. They were led by women, strong, capable women who defied the traditional power dynamics. And you were no exception.

You were determined to prove yourself, to carve your own path, to become a leader just like your mother. You fought Coriolanus head-on, challenging his every suggestion, even when you knew your opposition was futile. You were a master of manipulation, using coercion, leadership, and cunning to bend others to your will. Even Coriolanus, the shrewd and calculating Snow, found himself falling prey to your machinations at times.

You had convinced two of the most desirable women in the Capitol, Persephone Price and Iphigenia Moss, that he was in love with them both. For a tense month and a half, they waged a bitter war for his affections, making his life a living hell right after he had returned from District 12. It was as if you simply enjoyed watching the chaos you created, relishing in the discomfort you inflicted upon him.

Coriolanus couldn't deny his grudging admiration for your skill. You were a force to be reckoned with, a whirlwind of ambition and cunning.You were a puzzle he couldn't quite solve, a challenge he couldn't quite overcome. And that unsettled him.

"Dr. Gaul," he began, his voice laced with scepticism, "I hardly think that I am the most suitable companion for your daughter, even if just for show.”

A sharp, echoing cackle escaped Volumnia's lips, sending a shiver down Coriolanus's spine. 

"Oh, Coriolanus," she drawled, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "my dear star pupil, you underestimate your own abilities. You are the very person I need to keep that girl in line. Plus she makes you look like a more viable successor."

His jaw tensed. 

“I hardly think that if you couldn’t control her I could.” 

“Control is a fickle thing Mr. Snow,” Volumnia did not even turn to face him as she stared down into a microscope. She turned a dial to clarify the view before then adding liquid, some sort of acid from the smell, and stirring the plate with a glass rod before continuing. 

"Y/N is merely playing at having control. She is an actor, a performer, and you, my dear Coriolanus, will be her stage."

“And what is my role in this performance?” 

"You will be the charming escort, the perfect foil to her rebellious spirit," she explained. "Your ability to manage her shows that the Gaul name carries on in your relationship with her, breeding the best gamemaker there could ever be."

His fingers itched to throw the beaker of acid onto Gaul. The very thought of touching you made his skin crawl. He could still feel the lingering sensation of your skin against his, a clammy, unnatural warmth that sent shivers down his spine from the last time the two of you had touched even briefly. Truly his interactions with you had been limited before the 10th games, you were two years his junior, it was only after he came back from 12 that he had even spoken to you. Now you worked side by side with each other on the games under your mother, and his every interaction with you made him violent.

The idea of having you draped over his arm all night filled him with a sense of nausea. He could almost picture you under him, your body contorting in agony as you choked by his doing. He envisioned himself standing over one of the ridiculous chaises in your family estate, your father's extravagant purchase. He would slowly tighten his grip around your throat, watching as your eyes bulged in terror and your face contorted in pain.

The thought of your hands desperately clawing at his arms, your tears streaming down your face, sent a strange jolt of excitement through him. 

He pictured himself using one of the delicate scarves you always wore to strangle you, the soft fabric contrasting with the harshness of your screams. He would watch as your eyes rolled back in your head, your life fading away with a final, gasping breath.

Hate was a strong word, but it was the only word that adequately described his feelings for you. A venomous mixture of loathing, fascination, and a twisted desire that he couldn't quite explain. Lucy Gray he had wanted to control, but you wanted to break.

“As you wish Dr. Gaul.”

_

When your mother had told you that you were to be escorted by Coriolanus to the gala and then “pretend” to court him, you were pissed. You saw through his carefully constructed façade of charm and sophistication, recognizing him for the manipulative user he truly was. In his eyes, people were nothing more than expendable pawns, their lives mere tokens in his ruthless game.

While you couldn't deny that you shared a similar disregard for human life, having been raised in an environment where expendability was a given, there was a fundamental difference between your perspectives. You saw value in keeping people alive, recognizing their potential as tools in your own elaborate schemes. Death was not an option for you; it was a blunt instrument, a crude solution to a complex problem. People were willing to go to the extremes for their loved ones, and extremes meant profit.

There was no choice to be had in the matter of being his date, mother dearest had given you a look that said all. If you dared to defy her wishes, she would unleash a torrent of consequences, transforming your life into a living hell until she deemed your lesson learned. While you possessed a certain degree of freedom, there were lines even you dared not cross, and this was one of them. 

But Coriolanus made you feel things that you thought you were incapable of, a deep burning rage that whispered at the end of it all one of you would be consumed. You could almost envision the moment when your fury would reach its crescendo, when your teeth would sink into his flesh, consuming him in the flames of your intensity.

As if life couldn't be any more cruel to you, Coriolanus had insisted that you were costumed by his cousin Tigris. Now Tigris was agreeable company, a beacon of kindness and warmth, possessed an innate ability to perceive the good in others. While you found her naivety and idealism somewhat exasperating, you couldn't deny her inherent goodness and her remarkable skill as a seamstress.

Yet, the thought of enduring the tedious process of changing into multiple outfits, each designed to enhance Tigris's artistic vision, threatened to push you to the brink of insanity, a state your mother had succumbed to years ago. The prospect of reliving her descent into madness sent a chill down your spine.

Tigris's fingers trailed along the soft fabric of the gown, carefully adjusting its folds to accentuate the curves of your body. "You know, you've got a really nice figure," she remarked, her voice laced with admiration.

A wry smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "Why thank you, Tigris. If you asked your cousin, he'd tell you I had a body made for the Districts."

Tigris's brow furrowed in confusion. "What does that even mean?"

"Oh, it's just one of his many ways of insulting me," you explained with a shrug. "He's surprisingly bad at it, considering how much he tries."

As Tigris continued her work, meticulously crafting the gown to perfection, you found yourself enjoying her company more than you had anticipated. Her easygoing nature and engaging conversation provided a welcome distraction from the simmering tension that always seemed to accompany Coriolanus's presence.

For a fleeting moment, you allowed yourself to relax, to partially let down the guard you had carefully constructed over the years. You savoured the simple pleasure of Tigris's companionship, cherishing the rare moments of genuine connection in a world that often felt cold and impersonal. Even if it was inside the Snow family penthouse.

The black velvet gown hugged your curves like a second skin. Tigris' skilled hands moved with practised ease, adjusting the intricate details of the dress, ensuring that it would perfectly complement your form.

"I think I'll add a corset effect to this," Tigris mused. "Corio has some cufflinks that were his father’s that would go well with that."

"I am but your humble dress-up doll," you teased, playing along with her lighthearted banter.

Tigris's smile widened, her laughter echoing through the opulent dressing room. "Well then, I'll have to show off my best work for such a famous doll," she declared, her voice filled with playful affection.

The light hearted mood continued for some time, eventually a servant came in to offer you tea. That ended up being your only respite as Tigris then wanted you to try on more gowns for different events. Apparently you had sparked something in her to create various things.

Perched atop a pedestal, clad only in your underwear and an arm across your bare chest, conversation flowed with Tigris, her nimble fingers expertly hemming the length of a shimmering silver gown. Your topics ranged from the latest academy and university gossip to Ma Plinth's overprotective tendencies towards Coriolanus, eventually settling on your father's renowned interior design skills. His contributions to the Capitol's architectural landscape were a source of pride for both of you.

You two had been so lost in conversation you hadn’t heard Coriolanus enter the apartment and calling out for Tigris until he was in the doorframe of the dressing parlour.

“Tigris I need you to fix this stitch on my blazer, it came undone while I was walking over here- oh.”

A flicker of surprise crossed Coriolanus's face, momentarily disrupting his composed demeanour. He seemed momentarily taken aback by the sight of you.

Tigris quickly rose, her hands reaching to cover your exposed form, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“Corio!” she stammered, “If you can just leave it on the chair I’ll get to it shortly.” 

Coriolanus regained his composure. "No need to rush, Tigris," he spoke smoothly, his voice devoid of any hint of the turmoil that he felt "I just need this done by Tuesday."

He turned his attention to you, his gaze lingering for a moment longer than necessary. "I should hope that's not what you’re intending to wear to the gala, I think your mother would throw you in the arena herself.”

Without another word, he turned and exited the dressing room, leaving you and Tigris to exchange looks.

___

Coriolanus couldn't shake the image of your back from his mind. The smooth, flawless skin, untouched by blemish or imperfection, is a testament to the care your mother had taken in your upbringing and no doubt the many concoctions she made to keep you that way. The memory of your curves lingered in his thoughts.

He had always held the opinion that your body was more suited to the Districts, a form meant for bearing child after child to provide the Captiol with more luxury. But seeing you laid bare made him reconsider your appeal. 

His usual taste in women ran towards the petite, almost painfully thin, figures that could afford to forgo nourishment for the sake of fashion. They were delicate creatures, easily controlled, incapable of challenging his authority. But there was something about you, something that stirred a different kind of desire within him.

Thoughts of you under him shifted, taking on a carnal nature. The dim light in the room seemed to flicker with the intensity of the images playing in Coriolanus's mind. 

You under him, tears streaming down your face, but no longer was he choking you. You cried out in pleasure begging him to never stop. Your cheeks flushed, eyes glossy, mouth open as you gasped. Neck covered in hit bite marks and hickies that trailed down your chest, heaving with exertion. His hands on your waist, pulling you closer to him as he thrust again and again, your nails digging into his forearms drawing blood.

You cried so sweetly for him, came undone so well for him. That cunning mind of yours consumed by thoughts of him. He might never figure out how to predict your actions but he could figure out your needs, your desires, what makes you tick. Pull your tongue out between his fingers and spit in your mouth. To turn you on your front and hike your hips up against his own, hands pinned behind your back. 

“Corio, what's wrong?”

Coriolanus's mind jolted back to the present, the vivid images from his fantasies dissolving like wisps of smoke. He blinked rapidly, adjusting to the dim light of the room once more. Your gentle voice, using his nickname, had pierced through the haze of his thoughts, pulling him back from the precipice of his desires.

"Nothing, I was considering something for the next games," he replied, his voice slightly strained. "I do apologise, Mr. Creed. Innovation is something that weighs on me heavily.”

Mr. Creed chuckled, bassy and thumping. “ No worries my boy, your date was keeping me ample company.” 

He watched as the older man's gaze lingered on your figure, a predatory glint in his eyes as it bore into your chest for a second too long.

 Disgust churned within him, a visceral reaction to the blatant display of lechery. Mr. Creed's age only served to amplify the repulsiveness of his behaviour, a man old enough to be your father, yet still driven by the primal urges of a rutting animal.

Coriolanus saw through the façade of civility, the veneer of sophistication that Mr. Creed carefully maintained. Behind the polished exterior lurked a man incapable of masking his basest desires, his eyes a window into a mind consumed by lust.

He drew you in closer, feeling the heat of your skin spread against the material of his suit.

“And what company she is.” he placed a kiss on your temple with a chuckle all whistle maintaining eye contact with Mr. Creed. A man's warning not to vye for what was his. “I often say she should host the games instead of designing them.” 

“Oh hush! You couldn’t possibly manage without me.”

“Well I’d have your mother.” 

You giggled at that, showing that you had one too many fruity cocktails infused with a laughing agent earlier in the night, the light catching in your eyes. He could tell you were loose, more pliable then he had ever seen you. Part of him wondered if it was just all part of the act to you, playing as well behaved for him.  The Capitol’s untouchable wild child made compliant in his arms. 

Despite the lingering doubt, Coriolanus couldn't deny the allure of your presence. Your laughter, once a source of frustration, now held a captivating charm, and your relaxed attitude was a welcome change from your usual sharp wit and guarded demeanour.

“And with that Mr. Creed, I do think that Y/N and myself should go find Dr. Gaul.” 

“Of course Mr. Snow, I look forward to your next presentation.’ 

Coriolanus pulled you away from the overly perfumed man and out of the garden where you had been. The president’s mansion always had half the party outside in the expansive greenery and the rest on the first floor of the building. He guided you out of the garden, the expansive greenery and lively chatter fading into a distant hum. He led you into a secluded sitting room, its dimly lit interior a stark contrast to the vibrant party outside.

Coriolanus was a man who prized possession, a collector of valuable objects and people alike. He had never been one to share, a feature made even worse after his time in District 12, and the sight of Mr. Creed eyeing his 'toy' had ignited a possessive fire within him.

You were his, he told himself, all the Capitol knew after the revelation of your made up love affair during the 15th games. But, you had made it abundantly clear that you were not his. The ownership did not extend into your life outside of performing in your role for the people of the Capitol and to appease your mother.

It was easy to keep the lines from being blurred normally but since that day in the dressing parlour something snapped within him. 

Plopping down on the chaise you sighed heavily. “What crawled up your ass Corio?” To strung out every syllable of his nickname, teasing him. 

A sharp exhale and her turned to face you. Watching you reapply your pristine red lipstick. 

“Creed is nothing more than a pig, a bloated, self-serving creature who values nothing but his own wealth and power," he growled, his voice laced with venom. 

You raised an eyebrow. 

“Tell me something I don't know. One of their Avvoxes is like that because Festus saw his father with the girl, and his mother went bat shit.”

“How do you know this?”

You closed your compact with a snap and tucked it back into your clutch alongside your lipstick. "Festus told me," you confessed, a sly grin playing on your lips. "He squeals easily.”

He hummed in agreement. 

“Tell me Snow, when did you start to care if some old pervert undressed me mentally.” 

“Since your mother made the entire country think we’re in love.”

“But we aren't.”

“No we aren’t,” there was no love between you two “but that means you’re mine as far as he’s concerned. I don’t enjoy anyone coveting what's mine, even if this relationship is just for show.”

“Ah! Of course, there he is, the egotistical and controlling Coriolanus we all know. For a second I thought you might actually hold a shred of care for me.” 

You leaned back in the chair, your dress slipping slightly down on your chest furthering the curve of your breast. 

He had to admit to himself he was no more animal than Mr. Creed when the slightest slip made his thoughts race. His mind went back to his earlier thoughts now inspired by the room you were in. Bent over the chaise with your lipstick smeared, a litany of stains on his face and collar. He’d hike the skirt of your dress up and pull your top down, leaving your breasts free for him to grab at as he took you from behind, your underwear hanging off just an ankle. Festus or his father would walk in the scene and pale as Coriolanus displayed his ownership of you. 

“Seriously Snow what’s wrong with you?” You’ve been distracted all night.” You shifted on the chair grabbing his arm and pulling him down to sit. “I won’t pretend to like you but you’re not yourself.” 

His gaze flickered down to your chest before meeting your eyes. 

Those eyes had always held the power to see through him, to strip away his carefully constructed exterior and expose the terrified child within, a child haunted by the horrors of the bombings. They roused something deep within him, something he couldn't quite comprehend. He was convinced it was hatred, an intense aversion to everything related to you. Yet, amidst the gaudy extravagance of this opulent sitting room, there was something more than hatred, a yearning, a need to possess you, not just in the pretence of a fabricated relationship, but for real.

“Nothing is wrong.”

"Bullshit," you retorted, your voice firm and unwavering. "You've been distant with me ever since that day in Tigris' dressing parlour. You refused to even acknowledge me the last time I saw you, couldn't even bring yourself to look at me."

He couldn't deny your accusation, for it was true. He had been avoiding you, intentionally keeping his distance, unable to face the tempest of emotions that your presence evoked within him.

"Have you considered that I find you repulsive and even looking at you gives me mental anguish?" he asked, his voice laced with sarcasm, a desperate attempt to deflect the attention away from his own turmoil.

"Okay, jackass," you sighed in exasperation. "I was actually trying to be nice to you here, even considering the possibility of being more amicable in the future, but clearly, that's an impossibility with you."

Standing up from your position, you straightened out your dress, your back turned to him. "I'm going to find my mother and then leave, and I don’t know how we will keep acting like we’re in love in public but we will." you declared, your voice seeming to echo in the room.

Before you could take a step away, Coriolanus' hand wrapped around your wrist. "You're hurting me," you exclaimed, struggling against his hold.

"What do you even want?" you demanded, spinning around to snatch his hand away, only to find yourself pulled down, landing directly into his lap.

You gasped in surprise, your body pressed against his, the warmth of his touch sending a jolt through your senses. His eyes, those storm-filled pools, were inches from yours, their intensity almost hypnotic. There was something swirling in them that you had never seen him express before.

“God seriously, what is wrong with you? I don’t know why my mother insists on it being you! You are the most insufferable man I have ever met. Constantly talking down to me and trying to make me feel lesser. You need to sort yourself out.”

 Your voice raised, carrying into the hallway where he knew people were. He could hear their steps coming towards the door. 

He watched you, his expression unreadable, his fingers still tracing patterns on your waist. It felt so breakable under his touch, like he could squeeze it ever so tightly and it would shatter. Maybe that was what was wrong with him, his image was that of strength and yet you were so fragile. 

The reality was much harsher than that. He had never viewed you as a person before that day. You have been an obstacle or a pawn. Now he had to act as he loved you, craved you, desired you. Initially that was a hard ask, your very being was unpleasant to him, but since that day something had shifted in him. You were human now. And far too tempting. 

The handle of the door began to turn. The narrative needed to be made, actions taken, you both were here for a purpose tonight. 

His lips crashed into yours, more gnashing teeth than the delicate touch of a lover, a show of dominance and control. The frustration of this whole act and his loss of control bubbling to the surface and letting the anger out on you. You tried to pull away, speak to him maybe, but he pulled you back against him and with a hand on the side of your face pushed your jaw open letting him slip his tongue inside your mouth. It was wet and messy. His tongue running against the back of your top teeth before dancing with your own. The desire to consume you coming out on top.

“Oh my!”

He pulled away with a bite at your lip, hard enough to leave the both of you tasting blood.

A collection of Coriolanus' classmates from the Academy and a few notable members of high society, including both Festus and his father, stood at the now open french doors taking in the scene before them. 

Y/N Gaul draped across Coriolanus Snow’s lap engaged in a hot and steamy makeout session. You intricate updo half udon by his actions, both your breathing labour, red lipstick smudged around both your mouths. You felt like a deer caught in the headlights. You hadn’t heard anyone coming to the room too distracted by Coriolanus’ odd behaviour which was now explained. 

Coriolanus instantly snapped into character a charming smile spread across his face as he steadied a hand on your hip. 

“My apologies I wasn’t aware anyone would be using this parlour tonight.” He spoke with a lighthearted chuckle. “Miss Gaul was just simply breathtaking this evening.” 

Your name brought you back into the moment, the velvet of his voice soothing your panic. You moved to adjust his shirt and blazer back into place, an intimate gesture painting the two of you having a deeper relationship than people initially thought.

“Corio,” you chided gently “I told you that we needed to be careful.” 

“You're right my dear. I was overconfident, assuming we had a moment to ourselves. I just can’t help myself when it comes to you.” He slipped the handkerchief out of his pocket and began cleaning up your ruined lipstick. “Please give us just a minute and we will clear the room for you.” 

He finished cleaning you up and then stood, taking your hand in his. Some more apologies were given to the crowd as the two of you absconded away like teenage lovers that had just been caught. A trail of hushed whispers and lingering glances followed you out. You couldn’t catch everything but you heard one thing very clearly. 

“Well there goes the gossip that they hate each other.”

#uzuri writes #hunger games imagine #tbosas #young!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #the death of an actor #hunger games smut

[tossawary]

I saw "Hadestown" a while ago and found it pretty fun, especially because while it is a retelling of the Orpheus and Eurydice myth, it is also doing its own thing. It sets the story in a company town and presents a Hades in his aspect as the god of wealth. Though, it's not always clear in "Hadestown" what is figurative and what is literal. It plays with that mythological line a lot.

Hades is a wealthy businessman who owns mines and factories, which exhaust and trap (and presumably kill) the workers, a "god" among men, and Eurydice comes to work for him out of desperation. She doesn't actually die in this story... uh, I'm pretty sure. You can interpret the musical's ending a lot of different ways, I suppose. But when Eurydice first ends up in "the Underworld", in Hades' clutches, and signs a work contract to survive, her "death" is figurative.

So, when Orpheus comes to retrieve Eurydice, "Hadestown" is presenting us with a version of the story in which Eurydice can actually get away. She's not trapped by something as inescapable as death. When Orpheus appeals to Hades' love for Persephone and convinces this "god" to release Eurydice, I was watching the couple walk away together and thinking to myself, "What if they made it? What if they get to live together this time?"

I knew they wouldn't.

It still hurt.

And it later occured to me that a happy ending would betray not only the original myth, but also betray the new story that "Hadestown" presents to us.

"Hadestown" is a story concerned with poverty, with the fear of starvation and freezing to death, with the labor and rights of workers, with the oppressive power of wealth, with the selfishness of the rich. It's not subtle about it. At all. Hades is here as a figurative god of death, but he is very much present in his aspect as a god of wealth.

Hades releases Eurydice, but makes it conditional, because while Orpheus' song has softened him, he immediately becomes worried that this kindness makes him look weak and will set a bad example for all of his other workers. He doesn't want other workers to try for freedom or for other people to believe his workers can be set free. He curses Orpheus with doubt in order to make him look back.

Personally, I thought that the ending became a little messy, regarding what was figurative and what was literal. It fell back more into mythology, with how arbitrary Hades' condition is and how looking back automatically took Eurydice away. But I still liked it. Musical theatre is very well suited to that kind of blurriness in its lines.

If Orpheus had suceeded in saving Eurydice in this version, then the story would be saying that you can have your happy ending if you just work hard enough for it, if you're special enough, if you believe in yourself. The story would be saying: Orpheus' beautiful voice convinced a powerful, wealthy man that he and Eurydice were unique, that their love story was different, that their tragedy was unfair, and that they shouldn't be treated like the other poor workers. You just have to sing the right pretty song and people will listen to you out of the goodness of their hearts.

It's kind of what a modern audience expects: the heroes will succeed. They will succeed because they worked hard and they were special. The fact that Orpheus fails here too, even though Eurydice wasn't dead in this story, feels like a song getting stuck in your head because the ending is missing. It feels wrong. It's upsetting.

It made me think about how their ending was unfair. It made me think that their tragedy shouldn't have happened. That they could have been happy if only Hades hadn't taken advantage of Eurydice's poverty, if he wasn't so cruel to his exploited workers who create his wealth, if he didn't hoard his wealth instead of sharing it around, and if the wealth hadn't been allowed to go to one person in the first place. Orpheus and Eurydice were not without flaws, sure, but they were ordinary people just trying to make their way in the world. The "don't look back" condition is so arbitrary and unfair and disrespectful.

Everything happened at the unkind whims of a wealthy businessman who was scared of looking weak and losing power. It's not fair and it's all Hades' fault.

To me, though they tell you from the beginning that this is a tragedy, it seemed like "Hadestown" wanted you to think, "Maybe Orpheus and Eurydice will make it this time," and then wanted you to feel let down when they didn't. And maybe then wanted you to think to yourself, "As long as this same story keeps happening, they're never going to make it. Maybe there shouldn't be gods of wealth putting conditions on freedom, and deciding who lives and who dies. It's not fair."

#tossawary musicals #hadestown #character death #spoilers #tossawary watching

[lililasagna]

some disjointed thoughts about Nemesis and Melinoë (and Hecate and mommy issues)

I’ve been having lots of thoughts about the dynamic between Nemesis and Melinoë, and by extension both of their dynamics with Hecate. Hades 2 technical test spoilers to follow, obviously

First let’s talk about Hecate and Melinoë. Hecate raised Melinoë! She cares about her! But their relationship is not healthy by any means. Hecate is the only parent Melinoë has ever known, but out of loyality to Persephone she refuses to be Melinoë’s mother, and very harshly pushes back on the idea when Melinoë even suggests that she views Hecate in a maternal way. (Notice the difference to how Nyx treats Zagreus, and says he will always be her child.) Hecate raised Melinoë in a very militaristic way, for the obvious reason that they are at war, but isn’t it kind of nuts how even when playing hide and seek with very small child Melinoë, she frames their playtime in the context of hunting and killing titans? Enter Melinoë’s desperate need for approval. Yeah, it’s cruel when Nemesis says that killing Chronos “isn’t personal enough” for Mel. Unfortunately, she is right. Throughout the techtest, Melinoë continuously questions herself and other characters on how to keep up the motivation to save a family she has never known. She struggles deeply with this. My impression is that at this point, she is fighting To Make Hecate Happy. She is constantly vying for (and getting!) her teacher’s approval. She doesn’t question Hecate almost ever, and that’s in fact Bad for Melinoë. Melinoë needs to kill Chronos for Herself, and she’s simply not there yet.

Now, I noticed two things that made my alarm bells ring in regards to Melinoë, Nemesis and Hecate. Nemesis very clearly cares about Melinoë, even her digs at Melinoë are poorly disguised concern for her. She’s worried about Melinoë being sent out on her own by Hecate, she thinks Melinoë is a pushover to Hecate (she’s right), and she lets Melinoë call her “Nem”, even when they are fighting, without a comment. Meanwhile Hecate Hates Nemesis. She cannot deal with Nemesis questioning her judgement and expects complete obedience from her because of a pact she made with Nyx, while at the same time wishing she hadn’t made the pact because she cannot stand Nemesis to the point of wanting to throw her out of the encampment completely. Now this sucks for Nemesis of course, but what concerns me More, is how Hecate speaks to Melinoë about Nemesis.

Hecate actively discourages Melinoë from even cordially talking to Nemesis, to the point of acting disgusted when Melinoë uses her keepsake. Odysseus asks Melinoë to “smooth things over” between Nemesis and Hecate, implying Melinoë has in the past had to go between them. Hecate doesn’t respect Nemesis as a person, because Nemesis doesn’t respect her as an authority (nemesis still obeys Hecate, just not in a way Hecate likes)

I’ll write up these thoughts in more detail at some point but for now I want to leave you with this thought that made me sad: Characters constantly tell Melinoë she looks just like her mother and express pity and concern for her. Have you seen Nemesis? Do you think anyone has told Her how she looks like her mother? Of course Nemesis needs to keep reiterating her stakes in this struggle, because Hecate sure isn’t acknowledging them.

#not touching on how nemesis doesn’t think she deserves happiness #saving that for another day for now #hades 2 #hades ii #nemesis #Hecate #melinoe #melinoë #hades nemesis #hades hecate #hades melinoe #hades meta #hades 2 meta #melnem

[genericpuff]

Persephone has a very nasty habit that needs to be talked about.

Have y'all ever really sat down and observed the when of Persephone's actions towards others?

There are three actions specifically I want you to recall and try and remember what happened preceding those actions:

1.) Persephone turning Minthe into a mint plant

2.) Persephone cornering Tori at his job

3.) Persephone invading Leuce's home with barn animals and low key threatening her life

Think very hard for a second about the when of those events. What happened leading up to them?

First, Persephone turning Minthe into a mint plant. This happened right after she made out with Hades at the shopping mall, but more specifically, this happened while she was hiding out in Hades' home from Zeus, while also fearing the worst of her situation with Apollo.

Second, Persephone cornering Tori at his job. This scene came right after she saw the "Apollo for President" sign in Olympus.

And third, Persephone invading Leuce's home. This came shortly after she had felt insecure over Hades calling Hera 'Bunny', which for some reason she pinned on her own "jealousy" instead of calling out the elephant in the room.

It also came right after the Zeus/Dionysus incident and Demeter trying to force her to stay in the Mortal Realm, but I think the Hera incident is the most damning because it's the most related to Persephone's clear insecurities that are being compounded by dating / being married to a serial cheater.

What do all three of these things tell us about Persephone?

It shows that Persephone has a bad habit of projecting all of her problems onto other people that have nothing to do with the bigger issues.

Minthe ratted her out, yes, but she was still running from her inevitable trial, attempting to use the Underworld's policies to play the system and get herself off as scot-free as possible. I mentioned this already in a previous post, but these aren't the actions of a person who claims to feel as guilty as they do over committing mass manslaughter. Point is, she would have gotten caught eventually, and she still had to answer for her crimes. Minthe was an easier target for her anger and frustration than Zeus.

Tori gossiped about her in college, yes, but it came from a very real incident in which Hades ripped out his roommate's eye and beat him half to death. Tori wasn't even gossiping at that point, he was deadass just telling his side of the story and warning people that Persephone was affiliating herself with an abusive man. None of what he said about her being "Hades' dark concubine" was untrue, but he had the unfortunate luck of being at the bank right after Persephone was triggered by the Apollo sign. Tori was just an easier target for her anger and frustration than Apollo.

Leuce attempted to 'seduce' Hades, yes, but she was manipulated by Thetis in an attempt to get her planted just like Minthe and I think a lot of people forget that. Not to mention, Persephone says that she had "ten years" to make the moves on Hades, but like... no she didn't, because Hades was either possessed by Kronos or in a coma for those 10 years, and then he got married to Persephone like 5 days after that LMAO (not saying that excuses her trying to seduce him, I'm just wondering when she was supposed to find the time in those 10 years to talk to him LOL). And finally, and most importantly, Hades had already rejected her advances. She was already embarrassed. She clearly wasn't going to attempt it again. She is of no threat to Persephone, the now wife of Hades and Queen of the Underworld. So Persephone raiding her home was purely just for her own entertainment and, again, to satisfy her own insecurities. Leuce was just an easier target for her anger and frustration than Hades and Hera.

Point is, instead of actually dealing with the root of her issues, seeking legitimate help for her trauma, and/or learning any amount of self-care techniques to manage her frustration and refocus herself on the bigger issues, Persephone is instead relegating herself to a bully who takes out all of her issues onto people weaker than her, oftentimes people who have nothing to do with those bigger issues or have no real bearing on her life.

I'm sure now that I've written about this (because I'm not 100% convinced Rachel isn't reading this lmao the odds are low but never zero) there's gonna be some arc where Persephone goes "aw, I saw the bigger issues but now I'm a different person so life goes on!" without actually doing anything to make up for how she's harmed people (there already is sort of a 'twist' like that in the newest FastPass and it's uh... yikes) but until that happens (again, odds are SEVERELY low but never zero) Persephone is literally the worst person in her own story. She doesn't need a sugar daddy, she doesn't need power, she needs some bitter doses of reality and, most importantly, help.

#lo critical #lore olympus critical #anti lore olympus

[mysterycitrus]

the way you write the relationships the batfam have with each other is so delicious to me like AUGHH YOUR BRAIN!!! it’s so good. if you were willing, i'd love to hear more of your thoughts on the relationship cass and jason have / steph and jason (staring at you with my big wet eyes)

i havent read much from any of the characters and have seen large parts of fandom say that they would all get along/they’d be so close/besties, so the ideas i’ve read in your works (wolf king and persephone) are very interesting!!

to put it bluntly — i think they’d fucking hate him.

part of that is, weirdly, people tend to devalue tim’s relationships with steph and cass. like, steph and tim have never been normal about each other. cass and tim spent most of the nineties and early aughts jumping back and forth to each other’s comics. in what world would either of them be chill with the guy who hurt him (and damian) like that?

it also flattens cass’s ideology and steph’s history with bruce’s mission. cass has struggled with engaging with murderers because she’s sees them as herself, and their actions as her own actions. she is reflected in each of them, but she ultimately values life above all else which is why her personal connection to the bat is so interesting. she would not have sympathy or time for jason todd, someone who uses bruce’s mission to hurt others, to take lives, and attack the people she loves. like…. please be serious. she would not be hanging out w the person who was happy when bludhaven got nuked.

same deal with steph— something that really annoys me is when people act as though the “bad robin club” would be a bonding moment between steph and jason. not just because steph has a more developed comic run than jason has, with legitimate obstacles to her getting recognised as a hero, but also because again, this guy is doing the same shit as her dad. why would she like him after he went after tim multiple times? whenever someone draws this comparison i think of this page —

the fact that steph values bruce’s mission, his views on taking a life, despite being at such a profound low point is really important. i can’t believe she’d look at jason and think him admirable.

however!!!! that doesn’t mean their interactions (when reasonably in character imo) can’t be interesting!! having cass and jason interact in persephone was a lot of fun, because making him interact with someone other than bruce or dick puts him off balance. peoples fear of complex relationships with legitimate stakes makes me sad. neither cass or steph have that history with him before death, or that same image of him as a memorial, and it’s a fun thing to explore. specifically this passage from wolf-king —

like yeah!! neither of them would fuck with him!!! let him be the unpopular brother!!

#so sweet ily #this is tragically not reflected in the comics but….. in MY heart he’d get drop kicked #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #batgirl #batfam #dc comics #the ask and the answer