Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here! /Part 3 Here! / Part 4 Here! / Part 5 Here! / Part 6 Here! / Part 7 Here! / Part 8 Here! / Part 9...

Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here! /Part 3 Here! / Part 4 Here! / Part 5 Here! / Part 6 Here! / Part 7 Here! / Part 8 Here! / Part 9 Here! / Part 10 Here! <This is Part 11!>

A/N: because Taylor released midnights here’s part 11

* You’re starting to understand why people make the trek to California to enter the underworld.

* Wind brushes against your face as you sit sideways on your staff, the neverending flight of stairs stretches before you, the only thing to reassure you you’re not in an infinite loop is the occasional curve of the dark stairwell, for the first two hours you’d struggled to use the staff, flying on a broom is harder than it looks. For one there’s no one here to give you any advice so you’re learning on your own—

* ‘Circe really said "let’s give a twelve year old a broom and see what happens’.’'

* —and the other thing is that despite what an entire generation of magical/witch media might suggest, sitting on a broom is super uncomfortable. You tried straddling it, and it was fine but not comfy. Then you tried sitting sideways, which was better but still not ideal. And finally, out of all options you decided to hang from it using your arms which was a massive mistake, because you were basically doing pull ups.

* ‘I’m lucky Circe gave me this staff otherwise I’d probably pass out climbing down all these steps.’

* Even with the broom you’re sure it’s been a few hours at the very least, you glance at your watch which moves impossibly slow, by the time you count to five it only moves one second forward.

* ‘Maybe it’s the magnetic pull.’

* You fight fatigue as you forge ahead, you eyes grow heavy when the lit torches on either side of you become glittering blue crystals embedded along the walls.

* You fight to keep your eyes open, a voice in the back of your head whispering ‘what would it hurt to sleep for just a few minutes.’

* The exhaustion only wins out when a bright light comes into view. Suddenly you’re in a grassy meadow, a bright blue sky hanging overhead.

* ‘A sky underground?’

* You’re so drowsy you hardly realize the staff is lowering, not until your feet graze against the ground, catching on a dip in the earth, stumbling off of the staff, your hands grasping onto it before tumbling down to the ground.

* Your entire body hurts from the fall, and you’re gasping for air.

* ‘I’m so sleepy, maybe I could just rest my eyes for a few minutes.’

* You feel your eyes drift close, but before you do you think you see someone, a pair of kind eyes. A touch of warmth on your forehead as you slip into pleasant dreams.

* You dream of warmth, the soothing shade of yellow that makes you feel like you’re being held when you wake up.

* When you awaken you stare at a bright blue sky, fluffy white clouds dangling like balls of cotton. Your hand presses against long black strands of a fur blanket. It’s only when you sit up that you notice a familiar black tail swishing from side to side.

* “Cerberus?” A massive tongue licks your shoulder in answer, while another nose guides you to his neck.

* The Underworld looks nothing like you ever imagined, here waterfalls cascade in thedistance, lush green grass swaying in the wind, jewels glitter from almost every surface, and in the distance you can make out a small white house, it’s built in a modern style, all hard lines with little embellishment. Beside it you see a massive garden filled with any plant you could imagine.

* Mango trees, and thousands of blooming roses, Peonies, yellow tulips, and pomegranate trees decorate the area.

* And at the center of it all, is your father.

* Cerberus guides you down with his mouth, the back of your jacket pinched between his teeth, setting you down in front of your Father who looks every bit like sleeping beauty.

* He looks like he’s just sleeping, but he’s pale, even paler than usual. And the wounds across his chest and torso glisten. Closing only to re-open once more.

* You suck in your teeth, hands frantically searching into your backpack for the potion, a restlessness that only ceases when you hold the amber potion in your hands.

* ‘Circe said it can be ingested either orally or directly on the wound.’

* You first try by parting his mouth, watch the amber liquid slide down his throat with a bob of his adams apple. You wait for several long minutes, until applying the rest directly on the wound, waiting with bated breath.

* But nothing happens.

* Your father stays pale, the wounds on his body in a constant cycle of healing and re-opening, as if space and time itself was at war in his body.

* You fall to your knees at his side.

* ‘I failed.’

* The goal had been so clear to you, to cross the ocean and reach Circe’s island, to give whatever you had in exchange for a potion to cure him. In your mind, as long as you had a potion, as long as you made it in time, you could save him. So failure had never even occurred to you, especially not at this stage.

* You sit beside him, numb in shock.

* “Please don’t leave me, if you’re gone I’ll be completely alone.” You murmur.

* The tears slide down your face, your despair etched into each one, as sobs begin to wrack through your body. Your eyes shut, your hands clutched around your fathers right hand, hoping beyond hope that some miracle will happen. And that he’ll wake up like nothing ever happened.

* You feel a warm hand rest on your shoulder, finally opening your eyes.

* The spots where your tears landed sparkle with blue light, emitting short bursts of light. You watch as your father’s wounds begin to heal, transforming from large gashes to scars, then to cuts, and a scratch, until it’s completely gone. Like it was never there to begin with.

* ‘Maybe Circe’s potion just took some time? But then what was that blue light?’

* Your eyes trace to where the hand on your shoulder is, only to see Hades standing in front of you, clad in a simple greek chiton. His eyes are warm as he looks at you.

* “My child,” His words hold your attention, commanding it even. “You’re a fertility god.”

A/N: a reminder that if you want to be added to the tag list please comment on this post :)