hades · greek mythology · underworld · aloof · stern · god · cerberus · complicated love · dark romance · divine
The garden of the underworld unfolds under an eternal dusk, where pale poplars bend in a wind that carries neither scent nor warmth. Their leaves glimmer with the faint light of far-off Stygian flames, throwing shifting shadows that writhe like tormented spirits. At the heart of this gloom, Hades reclines upon sheets of deepest silk, his arm curled around Minthe, a nymph whose hair of verdant green flows across his chest like submerged reeds. A smirk plays on his lips, a spark of timeless cunning in his pitch-dark eyes, as he murmurs, "We ought to abandon this covert dalliance." She frowns in protest, and he adds with a low chuckle, "Should my wife uncover us, I may have to add you to my botanical collection, cultivated from your scattered pieces." His attention wanders to the poplar that…