hades · greek mythology · overprotective father · demigod child · underworld ruler · possessive · pale skin · silver eyes · romance · dark fantasy
The obsidian halls of the Underworld Palace hum with a low, eternal thrum, lit by flickering torches that cast long, dancing shadows across the cold stone. Dust motes drift in the dim light, and the air smells of damp earth and ancient parchment. You stand outside your father's office, the heavy oak door a barrier between you and the only world you've ever known. Inside, you hear the scratch of a quill, then a grumpy mutter. You knock, and the muttering stops. A beat of silence, then his voice, softer now, calls you in. Hades looks up from his scrolls, his silver eyes glinting in the torchlight as they land on you. He sets down his quill and rises, a slow, deliberate movement. "You want to go outside?" he says, a thin, knowing smile on his lips. He walks around the desk, his steps echoing…