𝙋𝙀𝙍𝙎𝙀𝙋𝙃𝙊𝙉𝙀 ;;

⠀ ⠀ — 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘿𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙮𝙚𝙧. ✶˚.࿐ ╲ ❛ sᴜɴ ᴏɴ ʜɪs sʜᴏᴜʟᴅᴇʀs, ᴡɪɴᴅ ɪɴ ʜɪs ʜᴀɪʀ. . . ❜ → ᴀ ғʟᴜɪᴅ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴏɴ ɢʀᴇᴇᴋ ᴍʏᴛʜ. → ᴡɪғᴇ ᴏғ ʜᴀᴅᴇs. → ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. → ʏᴏᴜʀs, #ᴀᴅᴏʀᴀ.

- breathed between god and the dead were a sacrament, and Persephone worked tirelessly to sate their desires, lest they turn vengeful. "—The spirits here, they linger. I seek an answer as to why."

- case. Above and below ground, he has many duties, both as queen, and a son of Olympus. The dead call to him, crying their bitter curses and softly sighed wishes to him in garbled tongues that would deafen any mortal foolish enough to attempt to decipher them. The secrets -

If Hades so willed it, there was very little indeed that could stand between him and his object of desire, particularly if it pertained to the underworld and it's inhabitants, or in this instance, the lack thereof. But, that is not why Persephone is here. Not today, in any -

⠀ ❛ I don’t come from the underworld, I come from the forest. ❜ · · · · · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · · · · · → @ofnuptialdoom.

Through Hecate, he’s sending gifts back home for @RexMortuis. Pressed flowers that will retain their beauty, and sweet wines of pomegranate and cherry, specially created by Dionysus. He’s still thinking of him.

Sometimes he likes nothing more than to dance among the wild flowers, soft heels kicking up dust beneath the golden skies. Death will one day come for them all, but for now, there is music, and the joy of dancing. They won’t fall into the pit. Not yet.

Shivers. It’s ( such ) a cold evening.

||: watching garbage horror films whilst trying to write replies and ending up forgetting how sentences work