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March 25 - March 29, 2023
Burn the world for her.
“I never thought I’d thank the Fates for anything they gave me, but you—you were worth all of it.” “All of what?” “The suffering.”
“The simple fact that we are having this conversation is enough to send Hades into a rage.” “Maybe you should tell him toxic masculinity isn’t attractive.”
“Lesson number two, Sephy. When a god gives you an out, take it.” “And what’s lesson number one?” “Never accept a bargain from a god.”
He didn’t trust her, not with this anyway, and while she recognized she didn’t have the best track record for obeying, this was different—she was different.
There is darkness within you. Anger, fear, resentment. If you do not free yourself first, no one else can.
“This darkness is not the same. This darkness is toil and trauma, grief and loss. It is the darkness that will make you Queen of the Underworld.”
Persephone stared for a moment longer and found that she wasn’t afraid of the person staring back at her. In fact, she liked her despite the pain and the grief. She was broken and somehow better for it.
Persephone was struck by how similar they were—not in appearance but something deeper, something that threaded through their hearts and bones and souls.
They’d begun in two very different worlds but wanted the same thing in the end—acceptance and love and solace—and they’d found it in each other’s eyes and arms and mouths.
This is power, she thought as her body flushed and fluttered with a chaotic tangle of emotion—the passion and pain of loving someone more than the air in her lun...
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“You once said words had no meaning,” she answered. “Let our actions speak next time.”
“I am not unkind,” Hypnos argued. “But I do not do well in the presence of idiots. You are not an idiot, are you, Lady Persephone?”
“Dreams—nightmares—prepare us to survive,” Hypnos said. “They bring our anxieties to life so we may fight them. You are no different, Goddess.”
“And for the love of all gods and goddesses, go to fucking sleep.”
Lightning-fast, Hades’s hand came down upon the deck with a loud bang. Persephone flinched and stared at him in surprise. She hadn’t expected him to move so fast—or to remember the rules so well. “What?” he asked when he noticed her expression. “You said to slap.” “That wasn’t a slap. That was more like a collision.” He smirked. “I just really want to win.”
“You have ten seconds to hide. Then I will seek you out.” “Your fantasy is hide-and-seek?” she asked. “No. My fantasy is the chase. I am going to hunt you, and when I find you, I will bury myself so far inside you, the only thing you’ll be able to say is my name.” That seemed fair.
“Darling, every time I fuck you, it’s a fantasy.”
“Grief means we loved fiercely…and if that is all anyone ever has to say about either one of us in the end, I think we lived our best lives.”
“Hateful to me as the gates of Hades is that man who hides one thing in his heart and speaks another.” —Homer, The Iliad
“I will build temples in honor of our love, and I will worship you until the end of the world. There is nothing I wouldn’t sacrifice for you.”
He drew away to look at her, eyes like shimmering stars. “Do you understand that?”
“Yes,” she said, tightening her hold around him. “I will give you everything you ever wanted, even things you ...
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“You were my only love—my heart and my soul. My world began and ended with you, my sun, stars, and sky. I will never forget you but I will forgive you.”
We are all broken, Persephone. It’s what we do with the pieces that matters.”
“That is hope. The greatest enemy of man.”
“I have seen love—all forms and degrees—but there is something dear about this love—the kind you two share. It is desperate and fierce and passionate.”
it is my favorite kind of love to watch. It blossoms and blazes, challenges and teases, hurts and heals.
Apart, you are light and dark, life and death, a beginning and an end. Together, you are a foundation that will weave an empire, unite a people, and weld worlds together. You are a cycle that never ends—eternal and infinite.
“I should have never allowed you to leave that temple. That prophecy was not about your children. It was about you.”
“Men are so quick to blame the gods: they say that we devise their misery. But they themselves—in their depravity—design grief greater than the griefs that fate assigns.” —Homer, The Odyssey
