— ❀ STORYLINE SEARCH ❀ — ♡┊ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪs ᴛᴡᴇᴇᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴄᴇɪᴠᴇ ᴀ ɢɪғ sᴛᴀʀᴛᴇʀ. ↺┊ʀᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴄᴇɪᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴅᴍ ᴛᴏ ᴘʟᴏᴛ. ﹙ ᴍᴀʏ ʙᴇ sᴇʟᴇᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ ﹚

Admittedly, that... upsets him to know. His world is a little more sad, and a lot more empty without Hades in it. The dead are in good hands with Hades, they shouldn’t be concerned.

The latter part of his day has been spent weaving crowns of flowers for Cerberus.

Not one of these. But another one, certainly.

Good, good. Patience is a virtue.

What would he prefer? Chamomile or lavender?

Lavender it is. It doesn’t take him long to expertly weave the sprigs together. He’s a deft hand at this.

Good morning, good morning.

˚ 　　*　 　　　 　 　　 ⋆ 　 * 　　 ⋆ 　 · ⋆ 　 　　　　· ⋆ 　　　　　　　 　　 ⋆ 　　　　　 · ˚

When the sun goes down, his energy levels plummet. He‘s struggling to keep his eyes open.

Is that a bad thing?

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

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

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.

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

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

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