HER story is not just crimson pomegranates, all of the splendour of spring bends to her will.
But this floral maiden also sends shudders of fear with one delicate footstep through all of hell.
She reigns over the birth of flowers and gentle beings...
LATIN PROSE ❝percy jackson and the olympians!❞ The Lightning Thief Era!
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷₊˚ .ೃ࿐LATIN PROSE body written in prose ❝I hope you choke on that strawberry, percy. ❞ dipped in the ink of ❝is this your way of flirting with me, asphodel?❞ their pomegranate wine!
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷₊˚ .ೃ࿐LATIN PROSE lips painted in pomegranate wine, poisoning a tender kiss. the strife of narcissus' perfume rotting her head. leaving the bliss she'd experience for six months rotting with her soul in the river lethe as she succumbs to the addiction that the fury in her brittle bones gives her. the god pyre commences.
CONTENT WARNING: includes subjects like parental abuse + strong language
BELLADONNA ASPHODEL, 'THE BANISHED'. six years old, scrapes on her knees, bleeding through the bandaids like spilled wine. it was fermented from the pits of her rageful soul from years of neglect.
her tears assaulting her doe eyes as she stared at the gods with betrayed blood on her hands. the gods glared down at the young girl with a hint of fear marinating in the depths of their divine stomachs, not knowing what to do with the vicious child who seemed to be rambling in latin, rubbing her eyes and smearing blood on her beautiful brown skin. the blood tainting her face made her look mad. it was as thick as tree sap, eroding away at the young girl's senses along with the metallic smell sitting on her nose and underneath her red eyes.
"Is that your blood, child?" a regal one asked, nose turned in the air at belladonna's shaking knees.
"nulla, nulla," belladonna rapidly shook her head, wiping the tears and blood on her shorts.
the regal one turned her long nose towards the one with the sharp, grey eyes, looking for answers. the eyes seemed to be studying belladonna, her ticks, the moments in between each one of her breaths, the seconds in which she blinks. "who's blood is it then, girl?"
