SO DO YALL WANT TONS OF ANGST IN THIS STORY BECAUSE IM NOT GIVING IT TO YOU YET HAPPY HOLIDAYS AND ENJOY THE MUSINGS OF THE NOT SO ANGSTY MISTER ROMEO OVER HERE

Dear Journal, I am currently torn between practically killing millions of people or letting my depressed wife be happy.

Decisions, decisions.

I am, of course, not the kind of man who lets his own personal affairs [like my boner-unlike some people] get in the way of ruling his kingdom. In fact, this is the only time I've actually done anything that seriously impacts everyone else! Well, there was that one time… but other than that, I have a clean record! I know the impact of what taking Persephone has done to people- I help judge them, I know what they've been through, I know. But, Demeter must get credit where credit is due.

My mother in law and sister is throwing a huge hissy fit and I have to be unhappy because of it. Granted, she probably thinks Persephone is unhappy. I guess that's true. She also must think it's because of me, which I suppose is also technically untrue. But hey, at least I haven't rap- oh, wait.

Actually, Demeter, maybe I shouldn't be trusted with your daughter! I mean, there are worse husbands, but I am hers! I should be allowed to love her! If only I had picked a different straw, I could have courted her, let her love me, maybe built her a home in a meadow surrounded with flowers and she could garden to her heart's content and give her jewelry and love and light and sunshine! But noooo I had to pick hell!

Oh well.

It is not Persephone's fault that I kidnapped her. It is mine, and I claim all responsibility for it.

I do, however, think Demeter overreacted. Yeah, just a bit.

OR MORE THAN I LITTLE BIT

YEAH DEMETER YOU JUST LET THOSE MORTALS DIE

WELL LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING YOU GRAINY PIECE OF SHIT,,,,,,,

PERSEPHONE WOULDN'T LIKE THIS

Oh well, my poor, precious wife. She would hate to know this! I do not wish to be the bearer of bad news, but…

I must tell her.

But I will never give her up.

Hades looks up from his paper and puts the pen down. He looks at the spots of ink on his hands and at the fire in front of him. He crumples up the paper and throws it into the fire.

He watched it crumble and burn, the ends of the paper being seared by the flames, which gently lick it into nothingness.