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She is no princess in the tallest
tower waiting for a prince to
save her. There is no dragon to
slay, no fields of thorns to burn.
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⠀⠀⠀⠀For she is . . . 𝓐𝚁𝚃𝙴𝙼𝙸𝚂.
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https://t.co/iywPkidZtN
kore perched herself atop a table which is adorned with steel, legs idly swinging from beneath her skirt and plush, tan flesh coils with a simper that speaks of mischief.
“You better, Hades, or you’ll experience pain even our child cannot conjure.” Shimmering hues possessing the vibrant colours of spring flourish lively with utter adoration, complete devotion. Such words are not meant. Not truly. Only a meaningless tease, a suggestive prod.
hades smiles, caressing her cheek at her words. “because you’re special” he states and shivers as a hand settles low on their spine. “and i love you, my sweet pomegranate.”
“You don’t believe me?” Such sugary lips coil teasingly, edge of Hephaestus’ lips pecked with utter tenderness and strong, muscular arms are trailed by warm, tan palms. “Of course, Brother. I favour your presence.” There is undeniable honesty in her sugary timbre.
such sound was like a melody to the god of blacksmith. rocking lightly on his feet, breath hitches at the touch to a sharp jaw. most in the family treated him poorly and that was putting it nicely. but not persephone. “really?” he asks with a gentle grin.
Once steady heart turns feverish, pounding akin to a heard of horses at her husband’s sweet, sweet words. “And to think, I am the only one who possesses your charm.” Caramel hand is set low on a spine, fingers stroking tenderly even as the rose is admired. “I love you, husband.”
“you needn’t to do anything, persephone. only exist” he says so genuinely. heart soars as her soft lips touch their cheek before a rose is plucked and sniffed. as the goddess does so, hades plays with the soft curls of his beloved wife.
Svelte chest rings fondly with laughter, tan knuckles grazing a sharp jaw. Persephone always possessed a world of time for her older brother, the God of Fire. Mistreated soul, he is. “I am well, Brother, joyful to be seeing your face.”
“sweet kore” replies the metal worker with warmth and shyness, cheeks blooming with a rosy color. “how are you?” his hand takes hers in turn, squeezing softly.
“And tell me, lovely husband, what have I done to deserve such gift?” Persephone voice is akin to honey, dripping from her lips with such softness. Rounded cheek is kissed by plush, pliable lips and the rose is gently plucked, sniffing it gently.
free arm wraps around his lovely persephone, pulling her close to his sturdy frame while the other holds onto the rose. “for my beautiful wife, of course” the funeral planner smiles.
sugary lips are instantly in bloom, appearing akin to a blossoming rose as her beloved is soon appearing before her. long limbs grace powerful shoulders and tease ashen curls. “and whoever is this for, my king?”
delicate hands effortlessly embrace those of @brokenodes, fingertips tracing across bulked knuckles and a sugary, sweet smile dares to rise. “brother.”