Genre: Comedy
The air in the Underworld was usually thick with the scent of brimstone and ancient regrets.
Today, however, it smelled aggressively like "Midnight Jasmine & Organic Honey.
Hades, Lord of the Dead, stood in the center of his Great Hall, staring at his bident. Usually, it was used to strike fear into the hearts of titans. Currently, it was being used as a drying rack for Persephon’s hand-washed, oversized pastel sweaters.
"Persephon," Hades groaned, his voice echoing with the weight of a thousand years. "My weapon of doom is dripping. It’s... it’s shrinking the wool."
Persephon poked his head out from behind a massive obsidian pillar. He was wearing a flower crown made of glowing Underworld mushrooms and holding a very confused-looking bat.
"But Hades! The laundry room is so dark," Persephon chirped, his eyes sparkling with a level of fluffiness that should have been illegal in a place of eternal punishment.
"Your bident is the only thing high enough to catch the draft from the Pit of Eternal Winds!"
[AUTHOR’S NOTE: Readers, please look at Hades’ face. He is currently trying to remember if he’s a God or a laundromat. Spoilers: He’s a laundromat.]
"The Pit of Eternal Winds is for the souls of the restless!" Hades argued, though his hand was already reaching out to make sure the sweaters weren't wrinkling. "It is not a tumble-dryer!"
"Is there a problem here?"
The temperature in the room dropped forty degrees. Demeter marched in, wearing a gardening apron over a power suit. She was carrying a bag of "Infernal Potting Soil" and looking at Hades like he was a particularly stubborn weed.
"Mom! Hades is being a Grumpy-Goth again," Persephon pouted, crossing his arms.
Demeter narrowed her eyes at the King of the Dead. "Hades. Is my son’s knitwear not a priority for you? Because I can easily turn the Elysian Fields into a giant frozen tundra and move him back into my guest room. I’ve already got the 'Welcome Home' banner in the Amazon cart."
Hades broke out in a cold sweat. The thought of Persephon leaving was scarier than any titan.
"The sweaters... stay," Hades hissed through grit teeth. "In fact, I shall command the Furies to fan them gently until they are fluffy enough for a Prince."
An hour later, peace had almost returned. Hades was back on his throne, trying to look intimidating. Persephon was sitting at his feet, humming a tune and peeling a pomegranate.
"Hades, say 'Ah!'" Persephon held up a seed.
Hades leaned down, his dark crown nearly poking Persephon’s eye. He took the seed. The "contract" was sealed. He was legally, spiritually, and emotionally whipped.
"Tastes like... eternal devotion," Hades muttered, his ears turning pink.
Suddenly, Cerberus bounded in. The giant, three-headed hound of hell skidded across the floor, knocking over a vase of dark lilies.
Left Head: Drooling on Hades’ cape.
Middle Head: Trying to lick Persephon’s face.
Right Head: Wearing one of the sweaters that had fallen off the bident.
"Aww! Cerberus wants to play!" Persephon giggled, burying his face in the middle head’s fur.
"That dog is supposed to be the guardian of the gates!" Hades exasperatedly threw his hands up. "He’s wearing a size Medium cashmere cardigan! How is he supposed to terrify the trespassing heroes?!"
"He looks handsome," Demeter shouted from the other room, where she was currently repainting the torture chambers "Seafoam Green."
[AUTHOR’S NOTE: I give up. This isn't a myth. This is a sitcom. Someone help me.]
Hades looked at his fluffy boy, his terrifying mother-in-law, and his sweater-wearing monster dog. He sighed, slumped back into his throne, and opened his hand.
"Persephon?"
"Yeah, Hades?"
"Give me another pomegranate seed. I think I’m going to need it to survive the wallpapering session later."
[Everything seems settled, until a loud "Ding Dong" echoes through the pits of Tartarus.]
Hades: "Who could that be? I haven't scheduled any damnings for this hour."
Persephon: "Oh! I forgot to tell you! I invited my cousin Hermes over for a sleepover! He’s bringing a karaoke machine and his winged sneakers!"
Hades: (His head hits the obsidian armrest with a dull thud) "A karaoke machine. In the silent realm. Of course."
Demeter: (Yelling from the kitchen) "Hades! Clear the table! We need space for the disco ball!"
Author's Note: "Send help !!!!. The Underworld is about to host its first 'Divinity’s Got Talent' night. I’m going on hiatus before Zeus starts singing Abba.
After along long time.....
[Persephon has fallen asleep against Hades’ chest. Hades is looking at him with a terrifyingly soft expression.]
Hades: (To the Author) "If you write one word about me being 'soft' in your next chapter, I will personally escort you to the deepest pit of the Void."
Author: "Oh? Then why are you currently using your God-powers to warm up his favorite blanket?"
Hades: (Blushing furiously while tucking Persephon in) "Because it’s efficient! Cold consorts are... noisy! It has nothing to do with him being the cutest thing I’ve seen in three eons!"
Persephon: (Mumbling in his sleep) "Love you, Grumpy-Hades..."
Hades: (Defeated whisper) "Love you too, my little sprout."
Author's Note: "Pack it up, everyone. The Dark Lord is officially broken. See you in the next volume for more domestic disasters! Follow for more"
