( it seems like any other day as persephone and his mother descend to earth below to tend to their beautiful crops — but persie, still a bit silly and childish and full of fanciful thoughts, is left to play with his friends as demeter works dutifully. his skilled fingers weave beautiful braids in the hair of a naiad in his favorite spring as they gossip and giggle about the woes of mortal world, about handsome river naiads, about wishes and hopes and goals of the future —
something which persephone lacks, really. demeter loves him with her entire being, so she shelters him, keeps her son held closely, never lets him wander too far away where she can't feel his warm presence. he doesn't know better because he knows nothing else.
that changes today.
persie sits in a field of flowers, head full of daydreams, carefully plucking flowers that he intends to weave into a pretty crown for his naiad friend, only the loveliest, most vibrant petals to adorn her head —
and then all he can do is gasp as hades takes him, pulls them deep into the depths of the underworld, pupils dilated as they adjust to the light (or lack thereof). his feet touch the hard ground and he can only gape at the god beside him, entire body trembling even as he desperately wills it not to. it's unclear if he's scared or cold, or maybe —
he's just angry. persephone's gaze flickers to the spread presented to him on the table before he looks back at hades with a fierceness that even he did not know he possessed. )
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something which persephone lacks, really. demeter loves him with her entire being, so she shelters him, keeps her son held closely, never lets him wander too far away where she can't feel his warm presence. he doesn't know better because he knows nothing else.
that changes today.
persie sits in a field of flowers, head full of daydreams, carefully plucking flowers that he intends to weave into a pretty crown for his naiad friend, only the loveliest, most vibrant petals to adorn her head —
and then all he can do is gasp as hades takes him, pulls them deep into the depths of the underworld, pupils dilated as they adjust to the light (or lack thereof). his feet touch the hard ground and he can only gape at the god beside him, entire body trembling even as he desperately wills it not to. it's unclear if he's scared or cold, or maybe —
he's just angry. persephone's gaze flickers to the spread presented to him on the table before he looks back at hades with a fierceness that even he did not know he possessed. )
This is not my home.