( * // &&.┊ QUEEN.

And the gardener said, “Little girl, Little SUNLIT FLOWER, You b e l o n g in the world above. Trust that they’ll come for you, but while you wait don’t eat the food of the (( dead )), for it will trap you here.” And I said give me the FUCKING FRUIT.

[blcflvr]

❝ PERSEPHONE CALLIGARI. ❞ — ⸢ EVENTO 001. ⸥

[jenniferslookingglass]

The truth is, I was bored. My mother blissing ahead of me, rosebuds rising in her footsteps, And I skulking behind, thinking, Oh look. She walks in beauty. Again. Her power could boil rivers, if she chose. She doesn’t choose. She scatters Heliotrope behind her. And me, I’ve no powers. I think she’d like A decorative daughter. A link to the humans She feeds with her scattered wheat. A daughter wed to a swineherd’s just the thing To show that Demeter’s a down-to-earth Kind of goddess. Do you know what swineherds talk about? Swine. Diseases of, ways to cook; “That ‘un’s got no milk for ‘er shoats; Him, there, he’s got boggy trotters.” And when he leaned in, smiling, While we sat in a bower sagged with Mother’s honeysuckle, When he said, “Now, My herd’s growing and I’m thinking I could feed a wife—” That’s when I snapped, I howled, I ran. And when a hole opened up, a beautiful black, in all the pastels of my mother’s sowing. Let me fix the lie: Nobody grabbed, nobody pulled. I jumped. I thought it was a tiny earthquake, Thought I was killing myself, Starting a long journey to Hades. It was a more direct trip Then I’d imagined— I landed in his lap. He just looked at me, said “Well,” And kept driving his chariot down, Flicked his leather reins near my face. He did not give me flowers. He never spoke of pigs. Didn’t speak much at all. Just took me down in darkness And did dark things. I liked them. I stumbled through his grey gardens, after, Sore and smiling. And the gardener said, “Little girl, Little sunlit flower, You belong in the world above. Trust that they’ll come for you, But while you wait Don’t eat the food of the dead, for it will trap you here.” And I said give me the fucking fruit. But when I ate I could hear her howling, See her spreading winter on the world. My poor mother, who missed me after all; My poor swineherd, starving. Huddled up for warmth with the few he hadn’t eaten. I spat out half the seeds. So now I suffer through the summers, Smile at the swineherd who tells me Which shoat is off its feed. Smile at my mother and walk behind her. My powers have come to me now, and in her candy-colored wake I scatter Sundew and flytrap, nettles and belladonna. I smile and wait for November, For when I come back to you. Your clever cold hands and your hard black boots. I don’t ask what the leather is made from. I don’t think I want to know.

Persephone Lied by SpuffyDuds (via jenniferslookingglass)

[mentamorphisis]

“You make flowers grow even in my shadow.” He whispered the words against her neck. Then their mouths met like the crash of ocean to shore. Oh how he was addicted to her taste; the stain of crushed pomegranate on her tongue. In love with the dark rose of her cheeks; her satin skin like petals. Desperate for the way she breathed life into his empty lungs. The way she was too busy living to fear death; to fear him. “Persephone.” he whispered her name like a prayer against her temple; like a plea; like a promise. His voice rough like tires against gravel. She quivered in his arms like a guitar string; oceans spilling from her eyes. The god of death never begs. But the earth was calling for her touch; the mortals begging for her warmth. And he couldn’t bear to watch her leave again. To drown in his own darkness without her sunflower smile. The god of death never begs. But he’s on his knees before her. Icy lips against her belly. Her hands tight in his hair. “Please” the word trembles on his tongue. “Please, don’t go”

‘When spring comes’ by Ceres (06 July 2017)

[factumhq-blog]

OS MORTAIS A TEM CHAMADO DE PERSEPHONE CALLIGARI, PORÉM ESTA É, NA VERDADE, PERSÉFONE DO PANTEÃO GREGO. APESAR DE PARECER BASTANTE COM A MORTAL SARAH BOLGER, AINDA É GENTIL E MANIPULADORA.

Queda: A rainha do submundo, a deusa as estações, Perséfone fora muitas coisas ao longo dos milênios que os humanos a conheceram, desde uma dama raptada até a ascensão como deusa completa. Desde as sementes que lhe prenderam no submundo aos lamentos de sua mãe devido ao novo lar da filha, mas adoração nunca foi algo que os humanos tiveram por Perséfone, ela era fraca comparada aos outros deuses, acostumada a contentar-se com o que podia, seus poderes provindos das festas que faziam a cada estação e estas ainda que trocando de nome nunca pararam. O mito de amor de Hades e Perséfone também nunca cessou de ser proferido pelos mais diversos meios e os humanos continuavam a lhe dedicar poemas, canções, filmes e tantas outras coisas, a deusa que já era acostumada com poucos fiéis se apegou àquilo que tinha, se adaptou a nova forma de adoração enquanto via os irmãos e parentes aos poucos definharem enquanto tentavam se impor sobre os humanos como se fosse de adiantar de algo. Essa observação apenas trouxe à rainha risadas baixas e palavras doces como veneno puro, ela não tinha com o que se preocupar, todos acreditavam na agricultura, na colheita, nas estações, mesmo que não dissessem seu nome, que não clamassem por ela ainda faziam festivais em seu nome toda estação e seu reino estava salvo, afinal todos acreditam na morte de uma forma ou outra.

Humanidade: A deusa já era acostumada com o mundo humano, afinal não era confinada no mundo inferior como muitos acabavam pensando, não era uma prisioneira e mesmo que sempre escolhessem passar todo tempo possível ao lado do marido os meses em que deveria retornar ao mundo superior eram igualmente proveitosos para explorar o mundo humano e as mais novas tendências, a adaptação foi algo que lhe veio naturalmente e não demorou para que logo estivesse rindo enquanto jogava conversa fora com as esposas da alta sociedade, para estar ajudando-as a conquistar seus direitos entre outros. Hoje em dia Persephone é dona de uma grande floricultura que já têm quase cem anos, o nome da fundadora nunca foi revelado, mas sempre é misteriosamente comprada por alguém cujo os funcionários de alto escalão se assustam com as semelhanças. Ainda sim Persephone muitas vezes sente falta de sua casa e de estar em paz no submundo, o calor e a luminosidade às vezes a incomodam e com toda certeza é difícil pensar que não aceitaria a chance de voltar a ser o que era, mesmo sabendo como o marido se sentiria sobre isso.

Personalidade: Persephone não teve mudanças drásticas de personalidade, afinal a humanidade não lhe alcançou tão rápida e profundamente como fez com os outros deuses e essa falta de humanidade fez com que as características divinas da deusa se acentuassem. Caraterísticas essas que muitos mortais não conseguiam ver ao escrever seus mitos, manipuladora, falsa e dona de um sorriso mais do que belamente cruel, Persephone continua a se comportar como todo deus olimpiano aonde até o mais belo e frágil nascido ainda sim é feito de sangue celestial e fazem de tudo para deixar isso claro.

Poderes:   

 Mimetismo Vegetal: Mimetismo Vegetal é a capacidade de se transformar em atributos vegetais em geral, como madeira e até mesmo fazendo brotar flores e folhas ao redor do corpo, criando até mesmo veneno. Antes esse poder era algo que movia florestas e criava novas vegetações em abundância, agora Persefone consegue sim gerar plantas em geral, mas em menor escala e quantidade.

Fitocinese: Capacidade de controlar forças da natureza, ou seja, qualquer vida vegetal. Um floracinético pode acelerar, diminuir, e manipular as plantas, pode-se também fazer essas plantas crescerem e estrangularem seus oponentes, gerar espinhos, exalar pólen venenoso, e dar frutos tentadores. De fato a deusa ainda pode manipular as vidas vegetais, mas não mais a seu bel prazer, agora há certas plantas que seu poder não alcança, ela já não pode mais trazer plantas de volta a vida e não pode criar sementes do nada, quanto ao veneno este parece continuar da mesma forma, mas agora algumas vezes vêm a afetar a própria deusa.

Controle das estações: Capacidade de controlar as estações do ano podendo encurtá-las ou até mesmo prolongá-las, deixá-las mais amenas ou mais severas. Esse controle também lhe da controle sobre o tempo meteorológico  

[bye1997-deactivated20250224]

Question : DO THE DIVINE LOVE?   (i) hera loves zeus. she waits for him to return to her.  even if he’s returning from the bed of another.   (ii) hades goes half mad when persephone leaves him every spring. his heart  grows heavy. the darkness around him grows thicker (iii) ares the god of war grows tender whenever aphrodite is  near. ANSWER : YES. THE DIVINE LOVE. THEY LOVE WITH THE STRENGTH OF  THE HEAVENS.

THEY LOVE EACH OTHER TO RUINS  (via bye1997)

[highlittlebird]

they say he stole her, as if Persephone were only something to be coveted and not a goddess in her own right, as if she were not as feared in their realm as he. they say that he corrupted her, that Hades’s flower wilted under the stench of his death but they forget that Spring is rebirth, that if anyone could be touched by the underworld and flourish, that it would be her. they say that he tricked her, that she did not want to stay. but they forget how the winter drags on, how each year it creeps in sooner, leaving bones aching for a hint of her warmth, and it is not because he will not let her leave it is because she does not want to go.

C.B.  (via highlittlebird)

[bye1997-deactivated20250224]

(i) aphrodite’s all bubblegum pink. long haired doe eyed. lovesick. cheerleader. she believes in love more then she believes in anything else in the whole world. her room is littered with romance novels. she knows the words to every love song ever written. she’s never known love though. the real kind. the heartbreaking soul crushing kind. but there’s a boy who shares the locker next to her. whose always angry his fists balled in rage but when he looks at her his eyes turn gentle.  (ii) artemis is the definition of a feminist killjoy. she wears that badge with honour. she is the proud leader of a girl gang. leather jackets and combat boots. she’s all bruised knuckles and sharp words. she’s a child of the night. goddamn you should be afraid of her.  (iii) persephone’s spends all her free time in her garden. there are flowers on her windowsill. she always smells like roses. she doesn’t have a lot free time. her mother demeter’s a little overbearing. too demanding of perfection. she’s always talking about college applications. always worrying about the future. sometimes persephone feels suffocated by it all. but there’s a boy whose kind and good. a boy who her mother would never approve of.

TEENAGE GODDESSES.  (via bye1997)

[antagonistenthusiast]

this girl never cries.

[cameron-phillips]

It was hard to give up the person who wrote so compulsively in her crimson notebook, to watch her be sucked into the black hole of the past….

But I had to do it in order to exist.

[antagonistenthusiast]

this girl never cries.