You ever have an idea that got away from you? That was me for day 30 of the Drewtober challenge.

At first I was like, "hur, hur, hur, let's make a recipe to become Queen of Hades, ingredients= 6 pomegranate seeds.

But I already know I won't be able to do anything great for SEA (spoilers but a lot of that food is cured and takes a long time) and to have two low-effort days in a row was not something I wanted to do especially right at the end of the challenge…

So I tried to think about what other things I could do. Make something with pomegranate seeds, eh maybe… What did I like about LIE? Well I always really liked Xenia's Queen of the Underworld dress… maybe… but what is the connection to pomegranate seeds...

Persephone Is Stray Gods' Thesis Statement

I mentioned this when I wrote my post on Pan (check it out, I'm rather proud of that), but Persephone is also a weird choice to include. When you think of the Olympians, Persephone is there, but its "Hades and Persephone" or "That time Hades kidnapped Persephone" or "Persephone, wife of Hades." There is a duality to her pop culture appearance, but here, Hades is absent, and Persephone takes a central role. Why?

Let me explain.

SPOILERS AHEAD

Let's start simple. Who is Persephone? The answer to that is complicated, and thats the point. In the modern understanding, Persephone is the wife of Hades, and that's pretty much it. She's the goddess of spring (although not really). She exists in relationship to her husband and nothing else.

But mythologically, Persephone is terrifying. Her name predates Hades' in terms of archaeological evidence, and she has been equated with the name Kore, meaning "maiden" which, yes, is why that name gets referenced in stray gods. Essentially, Persephone is old, but she had a nickname that people used instead of her actual name.

My theory of this is because you don't want to say the name of a death goddess or she'll notice you, but that is mostly because OSP proposed that idea in their video, and I liked it. Check it out for more detail on Persephone.

The point that I'm going for here is that Persephone is multi faceted in nature but has been whittled down to a 2D archetype in general knowledge. And that's how she is introduced in Stray Gods, she's mean and unpleasant and fits into the "so obviously the killer that she's probably a red herring" archetype. But she gets more complex as a character the closer you look.

Anyway, let's examine this song.

The visuals are phenomenal. Take this shot, for example. Persephone stands raised above everyone else, with her symbol glowing behind her, symbolising how her influence is enormous and that this challenge will be tough. It's also colouring the rest of the room, all of the nameless NPCs are entirely lit in purple, a colour associated very clearly with Persephone. She is in control of this scene. It's also worth noting how small and indistinguishable grace is here, she fades in where Persephone stands out. Grace is weaker here. Thats some cool visual storytelling right there.

Also, The Underworld is a dope as all hell name for a club. (She's queen of the club called the underworld. So, she's queen of the underworld).

Similarly, this is cool. Its a bridge, symbolising connection, or a crossing. As Grace argues and fights with Persephone, she crosses into Persephone's world and starts to understand her more.

This shot is just cool, not much else to it. It's confronting Persephone with herself and her emotions about Calliope, cast in the colours of a sunrise as she forces Persephone to mage a choice about what to do in the future.

"If she had something to say, would you turn her away?" "Please don't do this."

This neatly shows that at this point in the song, Grace has "won". She has succeeded in the challenge, but neither combatant looks particularly happy. The reason for the victory dominates the camera, the connection has been formed because of Calliope.

"You hear that? Silence"

I am a sucker for the simple things. A blank stage with a single image on it is all you need to win my heart. This shot is my favourite in the song. It's the moment when you finally get through to Persephone, if you do that. (I'm not telling you how to get here, work that out yourself). What do you see when you finally get through all of Persephone's walls and defences? What do you hear?

Silence.

Persephone stands before you in an enormous ribcage, where the heart should be. It's overgrown, and empty, and the rest of the body has disappeared. There is just enough there to know that there is a hole, a void.

Phantom Pains sets up a metaphor of anatomy. Specifically, anatomy that has been removed or lost. And here that metaphor is again, showing the wounds at the heart of Persephone. This is a character who knows loss and trauma and betrayal, who is trapped by the memory (I wonder who else is like that).

In one ending, this area is where you get the explanation of Hades' absence. Persephone killed him.

Stray Gods is a story about family, about how, when it goes well, it can be amazing, but when it goes badly, things get dark. Of course, Persephone would be included in that story, she is part of the archetypal dysfunctional family in Greek mythology. But like the myth, this character is more complex than that. Stray Gods is also about moving past trauma, overcoming it, being more than it, and Persephone's characterisation in the entire musical embodies that philosophy.

Previous - Next

*takes a deep breath* ok so i want to talk about my personal criticism regarding the myth of persephone in common media etc because this has been told so many times across enternainement that i feel like some of its meaning has been lost through time. i'm a huge history enthusiast so this plays a role, definitely, and i'm not saying anything else besides what i'm writing here is wrong ; these are just my thoughts on it. basically, hades and persephone are not the protagonists of the story and they never were. it was always demeter. homer called it 'the hym of demeter' and praises her love for her daughter instead of anything else. there's truly no discussion about 'hades and persephone's love'. hell, persephone doesn't even have a line in the hym ; we don't hear her thoughts at all, which of course opens to a very welcomed interpretation but alas, let's move on. zeus' offers his daughter to marriage without hers or her mother's consent and awareness. his daughter, who he never helped raise and nor was involved in any way. his daughter who was never truly his daughter in anything but conception, but was above everything else demeter's creation, her most treasured companion, her gift and sole happiness in a world of mortals and olympians. a young 'maiden', stolen by death, never to be seen again. all gods knew of zeus' allowance and where persephone had been sent to but couldn't tell demeter, at all, by orders of their king. yet one god took pity of demeter's pain, hekate. demeter, who roamed the earth crying for her baby, who was taken too soon, without warning, to the darkest place in myth ; death. and demeter, who raged like the mother earth herself to get her child back, who cried and screamed in pure agony : all of this is the central theme of the hym, not hades, not even persephone herself. this is a clear story about ancient greek lives where fathers would send off their daughters to marriage without questioning their wives, and where daughters died too young in the process. i say this because normally what we have is a very ''cool but brooding hades'' who is ''misjudged by everyone'' and a ''sunshine and flowers persephone who is the only one who makes him smile'' and against that we need a clear antagonist, so common perception has a demanding, cruel, controlling demeter. this is not accurate at all. demeter is not the villain and again, neither is hades ! but he isn't the victim here too ! did persephone go willingly? only two myths tell that, so, it isn't the wildly accepted version. in most, she was kidnapped, taken, or lurred. and after that, we don't hear what happened because unfortunately her view does not matter, nor hades', nor their possible bloom of love. it is not really her story nor hades'. i personally fufill that gap that yes, she did come to love hades, hence the eating of the seeds and the marriage bond (and after all, hades was hit by eros' out of aphrodite's demmand to avoid kore from becoming yet another virgin goddess, so again, outside forces). her position as queen became more and more tempting as she is a goddess and any god wants power and glory, a maiden to be rival to hera, and stand up to her mother as equals, and not just a tool to her existence. my persephone longs for that power, for that duty, for that respect, and i take into accord the other myths she comes by as the dreadful, just, allurring queen. i also complete in my head that it was always her destiny from the beggining to be a god of underworld, since her name itself is leading to a destroyer and not just spring. but it all comes down to the meaning of the hym, of demeter, of her being 'kore', being a girl, a young girl, stolen and taken too soon. dead too soon. like the many greek women who were sold off to marriage never to be seen again ; dying in more ways than one.

More Hades/Persephone AU?? ^^ I'm not even normally too into mythology but I am obsessed with this one!

Part 7 here; here’s part 8:

Louise stared into Debbie’s dark eyes for a moment, playing with the flowers in her hair.

“I can’t believe she’s keeping your crown from you,” she clucked, shaking her head in disbelief.

“Demeter knows how powerful you are,” Debbie sighed. “How much power you hold over me. How much I want to come back to you.”

“She doesn’t like seeing me in you,” the blonde hissed, looking at Debbie’s rings and jewelry.

“No,” Debbie frowned. “I think she’s scared that for the first time in my life, I finally know exactly who I am.”

“Queen, Goddess, Bringer of Death?” Louise chuckled.

“Fair maiden no more,” the brunette smirked.

“This is dreadful,” Demeter sighed with disdain, motioning blankly towards Deborah as she clicked her tongue with distaste. It had been a silent battle for weeks and if Demeter thought she was keeping her cool round her daughter and that Debbie was none the wiser, she was only kidding herself.

She had taken Deborah’s crown. For “safe-keeping”, she’d said. And Debbie yearned for it. Felt sad and guilty when Lou’s nimble fingers tousled through her curls as if she could bring it back with her fingertips alone. She felt safe and loved in Lou’s arms, wrapped in her sheets, in the depths of the underworld, their home. Life with Demeter was fruitless.

For a goddess who was supposed to quite literally reap the benefits of a good harvest and welcome the seasons, bringing forth crops and good fortune and sustenance, she was unbearably cold. Deborah never felt more vulnerable than when she walked the plains of Olympus with her mother. And though she rarely spoke with him, she wouldn’t dare seek comfort in her father, who had cast Lou out of their world and into a darkness of her own, cursed to damnation and a kingdom of hell with no one to rule by her side. Until there had been Debbie. But even though she allegedly had agreed to a compromise, Demeter was showing her true colors and seemed to vindictively and selfishly doing her best to manipulating Debbie to stay away from the underworld. Away from Louise.

“It’s regal,” Debbie sniffed, ignoring the look of disgust on her mother’s face.

“All that darkness,” Demeter shook her head. “Bringer of death. You know that’s how the mortals refer to you, do you not?”

“Death is merely a part of life for mortals,” Deborah shrugged. The title had frightened her at first, but now it only brought her contentedness and made her feel regal. It made her feel like she was truly support her wife and taking away some of the burden that came with evil, and fear and rumors of the underworld. She could help souls understand. Help mortals understand. They were merely the rulers of a certain stage of a cycle that all mortals would circle through. “In fact, I think perhaps there is the most beauty in my role.”

“You are the goddess of spring,” Demeter hissed, her hands curling into fists unnaturally, the grass around them seeming to wilt slightly as soft thunder rolled above them. “Life and color and growth.”

“Is that not the same with the afterlife?” Debbie asked, prodding her mother. She didn’t quite mean to test or defy her, but this was how she truly felt. This was how she had accepted the darkness. The shadows. The underworld.

“Spring is a bountiful birth of new life,” Demeter protested, letting out a heavy sigh.

“And death is but a rebirth,” Debbie smirked, proud of herself for standing up to her mother. “Lou and I—“

“Hades,” her mother spat.

“Lou and I,” Debbie continued, mustering through. “We greet these lost souls and bring them new life. They explore the depths of the underworld. Of their new surroundings. They learn from their past. From their mistakes. They grow and develop and change. We help them to flourish. If anything, it is a rebirth and it is more powerful than before. They are more powerful than before. They have the experience of the mortals and the lessons of the gods. They know the depths of fear and horror of death, but they also know the sweet promise of it. Of release. Of Elysium. They can be victorious and triumph in death in a way they never could in life. Louise challenges them. Tests them. But she also accepts them with open arms and a gentle whisper. They are allowed to let go. She helps me let go.”

“There is nothing for you to let go of, Deborah,” she murmured, looking especially sour now that Deborah’s eyes were twinkling, a smile playing at her lips as she thought of her beautiful lover whom she missed dearly. “And there is no life in Tartarus. Only death. Rotten with self-loathing and regret and decay.”

“You’re wrong,” Debbie whispered, thinking of the way Lou’s cold grey eyes now shone blue. The way her silver-white hair now glowed like honey-blonde sun. The way the love between them seemed to warm the cold caverns of the underworld and cool even the most unbearable fires. “There is life in the underworld. In Louise. In me.”

“You are such a naive girl,” her mother exhaled, looking frustrated. “Nothing grows in Tartarus. There is no life. Nothing may flourish.”

“It has allowed me to flourish for the first time in my existence, mother,” Debbie spat. “And it has allowed me to see who you truly are. You care nothing of mortals or of me or my happiness. You won’t even let me have my crown.”

“Deborah,” Demeter growled, the thunder rolling even more deeply as a crack echoed through the sky. Both goddesses knew that they were making Zeus grow frustrated with their quarreling, but Deborah didn’t care. Her mother had taken everything from her, and she couldn’t even take the time to see why Debbie was so miserable without the underworld and without Lou. “You are not queen of the underworld. You are a selfish, ungrateful, miserable little fool who—“ her mother stopped mid-sentence with a gasp as her eyes grew wide, Deborah staring at her with bewilderment, waiting for her to finish her cruel thought.

“Yes?” Debbie hissed, tapping her foot.

“Your—hair,” she whispered, her voice going hoarse as Debbie’s fingers felt at the top of her head, letting out a surprised quiet curse as she pricked her finger on something, pulling what seemed to be a crown of red thorns into her hands as she stared down at in in aw. Red. Angry. Sharp. And growing from a place and a goddess whom Demeter believed had no life left in her alone.

“It seems there is life in me after all,” Deborah smirked, not minding the prickle against her fingertips as she placed the crown back on her head, feeling her own rebirth flickering through her full of fury and rage.

i'm making a persephone inspired oc with kat graham as the fc cause persephone is such a good concept without all the nasty weird greek mythos behind the story

The capital of the Jötunn Empire, Dämmerung, had an excited buzz that early morning. The sun had not yet risen when the news spread from person to person, door to door, tower to tower, and far beyond the gates of Dämmerung; a new prince was to be born that morning.

Crowds gathered outside the palace, wrapped in cloaks and blankets, huddled together for warmth in that cold, spring night. Their gazes were up at the palace's terrace where they awaited the confirmation of the news. They whispered amongst each other as the time dragged on, all smiles and excitement. Vendors and merchants began setting up shop around the crowd, expecting a grand harvest.

The stars that spangled above faded as the black night declined into a cerulean heaven from the arising light of the sun over the valleys. Finally, as the sun peaked its head across Dämmerung, a blonde Jötunn Knight in golden armor walked out and pumped his fist, beaming at the crowd. The crowd cheered in elation and the bells of Pagan churches rang throughout the city.

Inside the palace and the bedroom chamber where the news had been born from, the Jötunn Empire's knights, warlords, princes and princesses had gathered to witness one of their newest High Princes. They stood around a large bed, some weeping as they looked on at their Queen cradling a miracle before their eyes.

Frigga held her newborn child closely to her, now sitting upright on the bed. She was sweating and dark circles clung beneath her eyes, but she was smiling with a mother's warmth.

The baby's golden eyes looked on curiously from beneath its white blankets at its mother, then at the crowd, and then at its blue-haired father who was kneeling beside the bed with tears in his eyes. Osmund came off his knees and kissed his son on his blonde head and then Frigga on her forehead.

"He did not cry," said Frigga, her voice shaky.

A titan of a man with burning red hair let out a hearty laugh, slapping him in the back, "But this one did!"

"Cut me some slack, Logan," Osmund chuckled, stretching his back. "I know you wept when Thoros was born, I was there."

"Like a maiden!" Logan barked, beaming. "What will be the child's name?"

"Arthurius," Frigga declared, brushing her baby's cheeks with her thumb.

"I'll tell the crowd. They're gonna love it!" said the blonde knight with golden armor. He walked back out into the terrace and shouted, "HIS NAME IS ARTHURIUS!" The crowd responded with a chorus of cheers and he strutted back into the room, grinning.

"You seem to love doing that, Edward," Osmund remarked to the blonde knight.

"I was born to please crowds, it's in my nature! Let them be excited! It's the first time royalty has been born in the empire in a time of peace."

Frigga nodded thoughtfully, then looked up.

"Ymir, let the kids in, they'll want to greet their new brother."

A young man with long, white hair braided back nodded and walked towards the door. He opened it and three children immediately swept past his legs in a blur, sprinting towards the bed. Another taller child with short, sea blue hair walked behind, greeting Ymir politely at the door.

The three children huddled together, looking at their baby brother with a hint of awe in their eyes.

"I thought you said it was a boy, father!" blurted the shortest child. His hair was dark, a faint hint of blue on the edges only visible from the faint morning light.

"Why don't you check, Wulf?" Osmund grinned.

Wulf peeled back Arthur's blanket and promptly pushed it back over him.

"It's a boy!"

"It really was a baby brother then," the second child said bitterly, a girl with long, sea blue hair. "I was hoping for a baby sister! Papa, make a baby sister with Mama now!"

Osmund choked back a cough, sensing Frigga staring exhausted daggers at his neck as the others around him laughed. He patted the little girl's head with an awkward smile.

"Now, Lyanna, papa can't do that. The family's getting too big! Arthur is going to be the last one."

"Then you owe me, Papa!" Lyanna whined.

"How about this. I'll give you Lobera instead of a baby sister, is that okay with you?"

"YOU'RE GIVING HER LOBERA?!" cried the two boys indignantly as Lyanna nodded happily with bright eyes.

"Why are you giving her a sword when she uses spears?!" pressed the third boy, the tallest of the trio and with short, blonde hair.

"She can learn to use a sword like you then, Valerius. I'll teach you both together. It'll be easier!"

"Easier on you!"

"Okay then, make another bastard, old man!" Wulf ordered.

"WHAT? Where the hell did you learn that word?" Osmund fumed. In the corner by the door, Ymir, who had not participated in any of the laughter up to that point, was looking away and trembling with a grin on his face.

"AHA! So you can't! Now you owe ME something," Wulf ruled, crossing his arms with a huff.

"That's not how it works!"

"Oh it's because I'm a bastard now is it?"

"Wulf, you're not a bastard. I've already told you countless ti - you know what, fine! I'll give you all something."

The three children cheered as loudly as the crowd had.

"Being extorted by your own children? Fatherhood must be quite unpleasant," mused a man with long, white hair and venomous green eyes. He had been standing by the terrace, holding a staff with a glowing blue crystal at its head. His face was feminine and his voice was soft and honeyed, easily capable of being mistaken for a beautiful woman if it weren't for his skintight attire on his upper body, which showed all the features of an athletic man. "The Queen must be tired. Everyone, please bid your farewells."

They all congratulated Osmund and Frigga, laughing and patting their backs, leaving one by one. Lyanna, Valerius, and Wulf were the last to leave, trying to ask their father what they were receiving until Ymir shooed them away.

Finally, it was just Osmund, Frigga, the baby, and the strange man. The joyful, warm atmosphere was now gone, replaced by a cold silence as they stared at one another in tension. But such a frigid ambience was unnatural, too bitter to be simply because of the strange man.

"You can stop hiding yourself now, Agmund," the strange man said, looking toward the darkened corner of the room by the door.

Out stepped a towering man, becoming visible in the light as he had been completely invisible in the shadows. His hair was long and an impenetrable black, pierced by curved black horns on the sides of his head. His eyes were a spectral silver, their gaunt glow further making his sickly pale face wraith-like. He was hunched over, being too large for the room.

Agmund walked with long strides over to them, dragging behind a long, black cloak that waved like the surface of water with each movement. Most prominent of all was his aura, a constant eminence of pure dread that made even the hairs of valorous Osmund stand on end. The strange man looked uncomfortable standing next to him, subconsciously taking a step away from the deathly figure.

Agmund turned his head toward the man, speaking in a deep, hushed voice that still managed to resonate, "You've learned to sense my presence, Ancelot."

"Only an idiot would not be able to learn how to," said Ancelot, regaining his composure. "You hide yourself too often that it's easy to learn by now."

"It's rude to consider others fools despite your advantage in power, Mage...." Agmund cautioned.

"Apologies, my King. But I wish to speak about the current advantage in power our empire has in the Nine Worlds."

"What you wish to to discuss is war, Ancelot. Say it clearly." Osmund growled. He was standing at the foot of Frigga's bed, glowering at Ancelot.

Ancelot looked directly at Osmund's eyes, imperturbed by Osmund's posturing. "I understand you wish to savor your time with your wife and children in tranquility, High Prince. However peace will not last. Not with barbarians at the gates looking for an opportunity to assemble and attack."

"Your lobby can be discussed another time. You're right, I am tired." Frigga professed.

"What do you think, my King?" Ancelot looked at Agmund. But Agmund was not listening. He had been gazing at the baby in Frigga's arms, who looked back directly at him, eye to eye, both with intense interest. No hint of dread nor fear lay in that baby's golden eyes and Agmund looked back with confusion and curiosity.

"Agmund!" Frigga called. Agmund snapped out of his lull and realized Frigga had been calling his name several times. She held up the baby toward him, "Would you like to hold him?"

Agmund hesitated for a moment, looking down at the baby once more. Osmund moved in, carefully taking the baby from Frigga and cradling him in his arms. "At least not before me." He stepped toward Agmund, holding the baby to him. It reached out to him and Agmund hesitated before slowly taking the fearless baby in his sickle-like fingers.

The warmth that spread over Agmund was felt by those around him as if the baby's radiance melted the cold aura of the phantom. The sun now bathed the room in its embracing light, revealing the odd smile on Agmund's lips. Osmund and Frigga smiled radiantly at the pair.

However, it was not all smiles. Ancelot, unnoticed, took another step away from Agmund as if his current aura was more dreadful than his previous. His face was unreadable as he looked away from the sun, but his eyes hid a burning anger at the pleasant peace that had befallen the king and his empire; a spark that would fester and soon ignite tragedy.