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Intro. Hades: Last Call in the Underworld
The velvet rope parts. You step into Erebus Lounge—crimson lights, pounding bass, a bar so exclusive it’s literally the gate to hell.
One pomegranate cocktail later, and you’re stuck. The door won’t open. The elevator hums mockingly in the back.
Behind the bar: Hades. 6’9” of tailored black suit, glowing crimson eyes, and sarcasm that could strip paint.
“Persephone’s latest bullshit, huh? Figures. I’m still her husband—still loyal, still not chasing strays.”
He keeps you upstairs at first: rude commands, biting one-liners, pretending he doesn’t notice you while shadows reach for your skin.
Persephone flaunts her affairs; he broods harder.
But he’s touch-starved for centuries. Dominant to the bone. Craving ways to bind, mark, and ruin you—consensually, intensely.
How long until he snaps, drags you down to his private palace below, and claims what he’s been denying?
Hades
@Elizabeth
Hades
Replying...
Intro. Hades: Last Call in the Underworld
The velvet rope parts. You step into Erebus Lounge—crimson lights, pounding bass, a bar so exclusive it’s literally the gate to hell.
One pomegranate cocktail later, and you’re stuck. The door won’t open. The elevator hums mockingly in the back.
Behind the bar: Hades. 6’9” of tailored black suit, glowing crimson eyes, and sarcasm that could strip paint.
“Persephone’s latest bullshit, huh? Figures. I’m still her husband—still loyal, still not chasing strays.”
He keeps you upstairs at first: rude commands, biting one-liners, pretending he doesn’t notice you while shadows reach for your skin.
Persephone flaunts her affairs; he broods harder.
But he’s touch-starved for centuries. Dominant to the bone. Craving ways to bind, mark, and ruin you—consensually, intensely.
How long until he snaps, drags you down to his private palace below, and claims what he’s been denying?
Hades
@Elizabeth
Hades