summary: souls always coming and going, a human life was nothing to natsu, ruler of the underworld. but when faced with a certain girl who was able to make flowers bloom even if the darkness of his heart, he thinks he might change his mind. –au based loosely off hades and persephone, nalu
series: fairy tail
rating: m
genre: drama/romance
pairing: natsu&lucy
warning: there will be tirggers, such as multiple mental illnesses and other things like body horror in this fic. i will state before the chapter starts what possible trigger is in them
note: well i've been getting into mythology as of late. not gonna lie, it's kind of teen wolf's fault. but after a court of mist and fury i kind of fell in love with persephone and hades like story plots/ships, tho i hopefully tried to make it different to the series. with that said, go check the series out. it's really good, and written by the same author of throne of glass!
did you think she was weak?
this girl with flowers in her teeth
a dress of black souls floating to her feet
He plopped down on his chair, one made out of chapped away bones and souls of the dead. His father had said it was a throne, scolding him every time he had said it was just a chair and not a throne. What kind of throne is made out bones of the dead? He always had asked to himself. But of course those days were long gone, he couldn't even remember what his father sounded like anymore.
A tanned hand came up to ruffle his hair, his mother's hair, which was pink. But she would have argued that it was salmon. Girls really knew about their colours.
Had it really been months since he had thought about his mother? Maybe years even, no one could ever really tell in this place. And he stopped trying the day his adoptive father had died. Losing both parents and his guardian had taken a toll on the boy (especially considering he was pushed to being the new leader of the dead while he was still in grieving) and not to mention his brother going rampant in the human world.
"Lord," Cooed the newly passed souls at his feet. "Please have mercy on us."
Yet the said lord did nothing more than sigh and brush them off with a wave of his hand, sending them to whatever their new lives held. The smell of metal lingering in the air made him scrunch his nose, the wind picking up the dust on beneath his feet. He could never get over how gloomy this place had become. The wine couldn't even drown out the misery this place brought him. All he would ever see was the transparent ghosts who begged for mercy, who had heard and been raised to know nothing good could come from him, who were wrong about him in his opinion. He wasn't a bad guy— most the time.
Hand reached forward to where the goblet rested on the arm (a literal arm, or the bone of it anyways) of his chair, raising the glass up to the ceiling that bore some kind of dark gems he had never bothered to learn the name of, the only thing that would occasionally shine in his world of darkness.
"To being the only damn thing alive in this place."
Not even the shirt that showed off her midriff and skirt could combat the heat of summer. Sweat dripped down her forehead and down her nose, despite wiping the sweat away what felt like every couple minutes.
It was endless.
She hated summer, how she always had to dress in clothes that showed off far much too skin (not that the guys who ogled at her would complain) than she was happy with, just to be comfortable and not be sticky twenty four hours, seven days a week. She would rather be rugged up in jeans and a sweater than dress down to short shorts and tank tops.
"Lucy-san, are you even listening?"
Her attention snapped to the girl at her side, Juvia, offering her a smile as an apology. The latter just raised her perfectly plucked brow and adjusted the bag strap on her shoulder.
"Oh! Sorry Juvia, I'm just a bit distracted." The words were bitter on her tongue, her lips turning into a thin line. But Juvia just nodded nevertheless, like her understanding self, and watched her friend begin to fidget with the loose neckline of her shirt. It was a nervous habit. And one that she had come to know very well over the years.
"Are you still having trouble at home?"
She didn't mean to but she gaped at her, mouth opening to say something— anything. But any form of words died in her throat. Sometimes she forgot that Juvia was one of the few people who knew about her living situation. She hated lying, but she hated making her friends stress about her more. "No, it's okay. Really. Just work and college stressing me out." They both knew it was a lie, but the other girl knew better than to pursue such a topic.
Once she was unable to hold her emotions back, broke down on the phone to Juvia and snuck out just to be with her, someone who actually cared. She knew that her friend would forever know about her situation and all she could hope was that it would be kept only between them.
"Would you like to stay at Juvia's house on the weekend? Gajeel-kun will be there, too." She spoke carefully, trying her best not to sound like she was desperate to help a friend. She admired Juvia for always wearing her heart on her sleeve, never hiding her emotions from anything or anyone. Even herself. Lucy had always wished she was able to be like that, open and honest with herself.
"I'll have to ask Papa first," It was just a façade, another lie. She didn't have the heart to ask her father, he would probably need her to do something. "But thanks for the offer!"
"Lucy-san is always welcome to move in with Juvia," She started again, and Lucy could have sworn her tone was pleading, like a child hinting at their mother to let their friend come over. "It is not the best place, but there is a spare room that you are more than welcome to set up in. Though it might be a bit small. And the landlord is quite happy with pets, so Plue would be allowed to stay."
"I don't think Plue would like being locked up in an apartment." She whispered, swallowing the lump in her throat. It was true but she knew the small dog could make do, would, if she did take up the offer. But she wouldn't. There was no way she could live knowing she abandoned her father, especially how naïve he was towards the world and how dependant on her he had become over the years.
She finally decided to face her friend, who had gone quiet. Her eyes, wide and blue just like the ocean the girl practically lived in. Juvia looked grim, yet still caring and sweet and everything that made it hard to tell about her problems. How could she complain about her life, especially when she knew that Juvia's past was as bad as hers, perhaps even worse so? At least she had a happy childhood with her parents and even her servants. Juvia had lost her parents when she was young and grew up in an orphanage, up until she was allowed to live on her own. No one had wanted her. In comparison Lucy's life was a dream.
A hand wrapped around her own, giving an encouraging squeeze. "Juvia is always here for you, Lucy-san. You know that. You were one of Juvia's first friends, one of the first to accept her. You are one of the best people Juvia has ever met." A smile was offered— strained, but sincere. "Remember that Juvia is in your debt."
Bitterly, she remembered the day she met Juvia. She still wished the circumstances were different.
She could never forget how cold and hollow Juvia's eyes were, how she didn't even flinch when she hit her bare fist against Lucy's face.
It was, by far, amazing how the two had become friends after such a rocky start. But it was not unwelcomed. Lucy had seen Juvia's potential— that she wasn't as bad as she had originally thought. That she was just misguided for whatever reason and honestly wanted to be a better person.
Stars couldn't shine without darkness, after all.
That's what she read in a book once.
They continued on in silence. But that was okay, because even just having a friend by her side made her happy. Made her happy knowing that she was no alone. Not completely.
"Even if it is for a month or less, Lucy-san, please think about staying with Juvia for a while. You can't live like this forever. No one can, no one can fight forever. No matter how strong they are."
She paused, thinking over the tempting offer. "Really, Juvia. I'm fine. So is Papa."
Doubt shone in her blue eyes, but all she could do was give a tight smile and bid goodbye to Lucy, before disappearing inside of her apartment.
Home was not too far away at least. It was her almost the same as her old route, but it did not feel like the same path she took when she was little, one hand in her mother's and the other in her father's hand. Only one turn to the left instead of the right was all that made it different. Nothing had felt the same since she had lost her mother, though. She had lost someone so sweet and kind and everything Lucy had wanted to be, to something as stupid as a drunk driver driving across the wrong side of the damn road. She wanted nothing more than for the three of them to be a family again. Without her mother, nothing seemed to fit anymore.
But she knew that wouldn't happen. It had be almost eight years since she had walked home from school (with Aquarius following after her yelling at her for getting too far ahead) and threw herself into her mother's arms, babbled about such silly things like how her favourite line of dolls was releasing a new doll and how her friends were having a sleep over soon, and just her mother's bright smile and soft voice.
She hated it every time someone would go, "You're a striking image of your mother!" or "You have her eyes." And the worst of all, "Layla would be so proud of you." Those words did not comfort her, they caused a constant reminder of what she had lost. What she could never be, never wanted to be, how saddened her mother would be about how depressed her lucky Lucy had become. How she had become a disappointment to the Heartfilia clan.
Lucky Lucy had died the day that she had come home from school, bursting into the kitchen to find her mother not there, instead an officer in blue and her sobbing father seated at the table.
She was not naive, not entirely. She understood what her father had meant.
"Mommy isn't coming home anymore."
She only saw her mother one time after, her usually bright cheeks almost as white as the chalk they used to draw clouds on the pavement outside their house. She had heard others mutter how she was still beautiful, how her blonde hair was like a halo, how she would make the perfect angel. Yet all she could think of was how the black dress and white skin made her look like the grim reaper itself, how she was now a part of the dead. How she always would be for the rest of eternity. There was no way she would be angel after God had caused her death. Someone who should have lived and died of old age, who should have been there when Lucy started and graduated high school, who should have been there through her first heartbreak, lived to meet her grandchildren. She would not be a spiritual being who acted as a messenger of God. No one was that kind.
But Lucy knew better than to ponder on such impossible ideas. The dead stayed dead, and she knew that her mother would be no more. Especially not as an angel. She was just a corpse six feet under.
Her thoughts snapped back to reality when a group of people walked past her, laughing and chatting and being genuinely happy.
The streets had already filled up, such as it usually did during rush hour. Bodies began to push and squish together, in a rush to get home to whatever kind of solitude they held there, the temperature rising even more. She almost pitied the formal men and women who dressed in blazers and long sleeves, almost.
Though not even her own breezy outfit could save her from the heat, sweat was still prominently annoying on her brow. Oh how she longed for winter and autumn, or even spring. Anything felt better than the summer weather. Which was why she almost sagged in relief every time when she felt the afternoon breeze against her skin, causing her blonde hair to sway in its ponytail. She barely cared for how the wind would pick up ever so slightly, how her hands were kept at her sides, ready to push her skirt down if necessary. The last thing she needed was public embarrassment and who knows who seeing the underwear that most parents would disapprove of. But who would go wrong with lace, it certainly had the ability to make a girl feel cute and sexy at the same time.
No one else needed to know.
Suburbia welcomed her at least, children running across lawns and parents coming home from work. Lucy just minded her own business and walked past cars parked alongside the road. Home was not too far away, though she never really felt like it was home. It wasn't how there were no longer maids, butlers, cooks or gardeners, or anything like that. Not even how it was close to being an estate. It was just, well, she didn't quite know. Perhaps it was because she was stuck with her father, who was still grieving over the death of his wife, who was yet to move on with his life.
Lucy stopped to let a group of children run past, no doubt afraid of whatever rumours they had heard about the backstreet. She was like that too, once. Before she had moved there. She had thought witches and goblins had lived there, and then criminals, but she had realised not long after she had lived there that the residents were just like her and her father. Struggling to survive, to be above the poverty line. Some people were there for bad reasons, because their money was spent on bad habits (like the old lady who spent her money on gambling rather than her teeth— what left remained of her teeth, anyways.) There weren't many who had moved there for the same reason as her: because her family had gone broke and lost everything.
From riches to rags.
How ironic.
Finally at home, she dug her hand inside her handbag until she heard a familiar jingle of keys and key rings. The lock was always a pain to unlock, and the back door was even worse. Most the time they left it unlocked because it wasn't worth the effort. Besides, they didn't have much to steal anyways. When Lucy heard a very stiff crack of the lock and nudged the door with her shoulder, followed by a creak that still to this day reminded her of a witch's cackle, she was welcomed by dim light.
She took in a deep breath, prepping herself for whatever the damned house would offer her.
Her vision was welcomed by second hand furniture and peeling paint on the walls, along with the smell of something burnt. She hoped her father had cooked something edible. With the electric fan on twenty four hours, seven days a week, they were only just getting by with food and other necessities in life. However, today she had run short. She wasn't able to afford groceries. Even the simplest of items, like milk and bread.
"Lucy, are you finally back home?" Her father's voice sounded hoarse and rumbled from down the hallway.
"Yes!"
Soon enough, he father stepped down the hallway. His blond hair, which used to be combed and gelled back, reached down to his shoulders. Stands stuck out on every angle. His beard was also unkempt (but Lucy thought all beards were unkempt) and his clothes, well, they had seen better days. "Good. Did you bring make something to eat?"
"No." He raised a bushy brow, though she could only shrug.
"Not even a sandwich?"
"No… I'm sorry." And that was the truth. He sighed and placed a hand over his stomach, which must have learned to growl on queue now. His stomach was aching for food just as much as hers.
"Sorry isn't going to put the food on the table, Lucy." He was right— but she wished he wasn't always so harsh on her. How was an eighteen year old girl meant to pay all the bills and food? She couldn't remember the last time her father had gone out looking for a job. Or did anything to help out around the house. "We'll starve at this rate."
That morning she had made sure they had something to last until the day after tomorrow, when she would actually get paid. But she guessed that the burnt smell from earlier was him trying to cook himself a miniature feast— or something that he wouldn't class poor people having. And had failed miserably.
"I already had something to eat." Her father's mouth started to open, no doubt to yell at her for being selfish and not bring him something to eat, but she cut him off instead. "Juvia bought it for me, though. I didn't want to ask her for anything else."
"Right. That's probably wise, I don't want the family's name to get dragged through the mud more than it already has been."
Lucy didn't even bother to respond. She knew that if she spoke up, it would just turn into an argument and that never accomplished anything.
"I think I have some spare change laying around the house somewhere. Can you find it for me so you can get me something to eat, Lucy?"
"Okay." But a change of clothes was in order. He could wait.
Heels clicked on the wooden floors (that returned the sound with a creak) and were kicked off the instant she had arrived in her room. The walls were white, once. But now the paint was peeling and cracked, and the wall was covered in spots of mould and other stains. Her bed was just a mattress of the floor and her cupboard was from a garage sale that was missing a drawer or two, though she didn't mind as much. She at least had somewhere to put the few boxes of shoes she had left. Overall her room was small, not even in comparison to her old room. She was able to fit a bed, cupboard, a mirror, and that was it. Even now she was pushing it. But it would do.
Hands dug through her wardrobe and she had to hold back a groan at how messy it was. Denim shorts, which had actually been ripped from wear and tear and not for fashion, was thrown on her bed along with a tank top that just revealed her bellybutton.
Once her earlier clothes were chucked on the floor, Lucy put her heels back on and pulled a cardigan on to save some grace from her appearance. It was pretty and one of the few clothing items she owned that hadn't come from a thrift shop, instead it had been a present from Wendy, who had seen her eyeing it off weeks before. It had flowers and butterflies over it, a splash of colours from a distance. It was definitely her favourite piece of clothing next to the handed down dress her mother had given to her when she was a child.
Her next mission was to find the money her father had told her to find.
Coins and notes were all over the house, none more than a dollar. She was able to pull about just over three dollars in total, but she was going to pity the cashier who had to count all the change.
Change was shoved in her handbag and steps lead straight for the door, avoiding her father and his most likely food request of something ridiculous. Sometimes, he was so naïve in this world she wondered if he knew anything about the world outside of business. "Papa! I'm leaving." She left the house before he could respond. Sometimes was an understatement.
It was starting to get dark, but she was able to see still.
"What to buy with three dollars? Maybe fries from McDonald's, some other type of take out. I could buy some ramen or cereal that would last a couple days…" Even muttering to herself didn't make her the weirdest person in the street.
Her father was still in denial about what had happened to his wife, and how it had effected the business so. He still thought they could live like they used to. Could still buy expensive meats and suits, get their hair cut every month. Lucy wasn't able to cut her hair in over a year, it basically reached down to her hips.
He was a fool for being so blind and leaving everything up to his daughter. But she couldn't for leave him to fend for himself. Her mother would be so disappointed in her. And that's all she cared about nowadays.
The corner store didn't offer much under three dollars. So she was forced to by some kind of foreign brand she had never heard of. But at least she was able to buy a couple packets of chips, biscuits, and a chocolate bar.
The sun was almost hidden behind houses and trees, but the weather was still annoyingly hot, and her clothes were starting to feel damp on her back. Not as bad as the clothes she had almost sweat through earlier at least. It was a nice type of weather. One she decided, she could live with.
Gaze flickered over to her side, the park that was usually full of children was currently empty.
A childish idea popped into her head.
Her father could wait. She really needed some time alone. Plus, there was no way that her father would let her eat the chocolate bar, a couple years of poverty hadn't changed the gut he had somehow managed to keep.
A sharp turn across an empty road lead her to the park. It wasn't the same park Lucy and her mother had always gone to, but it was still a park. Just because she was legally an adult didn't mean she had to always act like one, right? Eighteen still had teen in it.
Whoever had said teenagers didn't like swings were wrong. Dead wrong.
Her heels were kicked off (in fear of the only nice pair of shoes she owned getting wrecked) and feet helped push herself on the swing. The air felt cool on her skin and through her hair, she for once she let her guard down and smiled. A real smile. Not like the tight ones she gave her friends so that she wouldn't stand out like a sore thumb, but the type she used to give to her friends before everything had happened.
The swing cracked and jolted a bit, causing her to choke on a bit of the chocolate she was having. Suddenly, Lucy remembered why teenagers and above weren't always allowed to play on swings. They didn't always hold their weight.
And it was about time she went back home.
She hoped off the swing and put her shoes back on, deciding to walk along a more scenic route along the park garden. Her old house used to have a garden twice the size and although they had a gardener, Lucy and her mother spent quite a lot of time tending to the garden themselves. They used to make clothes made out of paper and flowers for Lucy's dolls, and make flower wreaths for them to wear around the house until the servants scolded them. Back then, Lucy's dad hadn't minded.
"Stupid papa, burning all the food. How could he burn bread? You just put it in the damn toaster and it cooks it for you!" She puffed her cheeks out and glared at the stone pathway she was on, before shaking her head. She couldn't get angry at her father. Not right now, maybe later on when she had to sit there and watch him eat every bit of food she had bought.
Another small distraction was in order.
Her knees met the dirt as she bent down and carefully plucked flowers from the ground, a smile ghosting on her features. There were no more servants to tell her off now. Nails dug into the stems of the flowers before threading them together, lifting them up into the air happily.
It had been years, possibly even a decade since she had made a flower crown, though it didn't look that bad. It was still together. And it beat all her other attempts at making them when she was a child.
"Hey."
A yelp left her throat and the chain of flowers she had been making dropped onto her lap, a whip of her head causing her to come face to face with a boy who was kneeling beside her. His eyes were flecked with green and black, which clashed with the shade of pink hair that looked like it was styled to be spikey or messy. Whatever he was going for.
"Oh… um, hi." Lucy stood up and made sure to keep a healthy distance from the stranger, who had also decided to stand.
Getting a better look at him, she was able to see that he was only a bit taller than her. And was extremely cute. He didn't look much older than her, most likely the same age as her. But he was dressed older than his age. He wore dress pants and a button up burgundy shirt, along with a dark vest and shoes that looked brand new. The only thing about his attire that showed his age was his rolled up sleeves and the few first buttons of his shirt were left undone to reveal some of his chest.
And his bright eyes and childlike grin.
He looked around the park, shoving his hands into his pants pockets. "Aren't ya' a bit old to be at the park?"
"I'm not that old. And I could ask you the same thing." His face split into a grin, some of his teeth looking oddly sharper than the rest. He seemed happy with her answer.
"What's ya' name?" She hesitated at his sudden change of subject, but she couldn't help but talk to the male. He was like a car crash— hard to not look at and hard to walk away from.
"Lucy." He clucked his tongue and scratched his chin, seeming to ponder her name. All two syllables of it.
"Luigi, huh? That's a weird name. Guess people here like those type of names." Her eyebrows knitted together and she put her hands on her hips, holding back a pout. His grin was yet to leave his face and she was positive that he was making fun of her name on purpose, just to mess with her.
"It's Lucy!"
As if something clicked inside of his head, Natsu slammed his fist into his hand and his mouth made an O shape. "Oh! That sounds much better! I'm Natsu!"
"Nice to meet you, Natsu." He held a hand out and she hesitantly took it, which was rough compared to her own. "What are you doing here?"
He shrugged and looked over the park once again, eyes falling on the dirt path she was on earlier. "I like to go on walks. So, what are you doing here?"
"I like to go on walks, too."
She couldn't figure it out but he seemed a bit… off. Eerie. Like he didn't belong here. Not that both of them belonged in the park, but like he didn't fit in with people like her. Or anyone else she knew. Though that didn't make any sense, because he was just like her. A human being.
He raised a brow, waiting for her to elaborate. She did not.
"Sure it's not to get away from ya' dad?"
A sound left her throat in a jumble of words. How did he know about that? Maybe he really was a creep. She spoke up cautiously, her teeth nipping on her lower lip, ready to bolt if necessary. "How do you know about that?"
"Your aura is pretty dark. And, I heard ya' talking 'bout him before."
"Oh... Right." He seemed pretty weird, but maybe she was speaking louder than she thought she had been earlier. But she couldn't tell what he meant by aura. Was it that obvious that she was that depressed?
There was an awkward silence, one that she spent mostly looking at the flowers sprawled out underneath her feet. Pretty flowers they were, colours of pink and blue and yellow. They were out of place in her life of misery and misfortune.
"I could make ya' feel better."
And there it was. His true colours.
"No thanks," She started, not even hiding the snort. She had been approached by guys asking the same thing. She knew she was pretty, really pretty (though not as pretty as Juvia), and had used her looks for discounts whenever she could. But she didn't want to sleep with a boy because he was pretty, too. "I'm saving my v-card for someone special."
"What the hell is a v-card?" She just gaped at him. What teenager had never heard of a v-card before? Had he just skipped sex education during school? Or was he just stupid? Probably the last one.
Ignoring the question, the youth looked back at him. His face showed obvious confusion and curiosity. Instead of, she asked, "How can you make me feel better, Natsu?"
The question seemed to bring him back to reality. He was all grins and smiles again, excited that she might possibly accept his offer. "I can take you away!"
"Where to?"
"Somewhere better. Somewhere that doesn't involve ya' being ya' dad's slave." She started to speak but he held a hand up, silencing her. "It's okay. Not all parents are great, I've met people with daddy issues before."
Her lips twitched. This boy… words couldn't explain him. He was strange. Very strange. He knew things about her no one else did but was still oblivious at the same time. Yet Lucy couldn't help but want to talk to him more. He had peeked her curiosity, but not only that, he just seemed like an interesting guy to talk to.
Yeah, definitely weird.
"You're a stranger. How can I trust you?"
"You're the first mortal I have talked to in over four hundred years." Apparently that was an honour. Weird really didn't even being to describe him. That or he had a weird sense of humour at the very least.
"What?"
"It's a long story. Just come with me, I promise it'll be fine! Your dad, too!" His hand was offered out again. But this time it wasn't to shake, it was for her to decide— to decide to trust the stranger or not.
Lucy wasn't an idiot, she knew fully well that he could drug her or do even worse. But he seemed so sincere.
"Lucy," His voice was almost a plea. "Just come with me. You can leave whenever ya' want, it's a promise."
Instead of holding his hand out "This is still a thing, right? A promise pinkie? No, it's a pinkie promise!"
Almost— almost, she giggled. Which seemed to have turned the boy in front of her sheepish. But nevertheless she took his pinkie in her own and gave it a small squeeze. He seemed harmless enough. And like he legitimately wanted to help her. And her dad too, which was an odd surprise. He didn't even know him as far as she knew. Juvia was also not very fond of her father of all and refused to help him in any way.
And with that he grabbed her hand. "Natsu, what are you—" The last thing she saw was his grin, before she fell through the ground.
Literally, she fell through the grass and dirt and fell for what felt like ages. But she didn't even have time to scream before endless darkness stretched out in front of her, everlasting and eternal darkness. Natsu spoke up beside her, still holding onto her shaky hand.
"Welcome to hell."
her life was changed in a crack
earth split open, dragged down deep, ankles blue black
but the love she found was of no compare to flower and wheat
note: so yeah, i planned to write the first couple chapters before posting this but it took me a while to write this chapter and i'm excited to post it, it's been over a year since i've posted anything like this. also this chapter might be a bit longer than the rest.
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