Three Sentence Ficathon

Persephone sits in the icy mountain stream, it being too small to have gave birth to a deity which is great because the chill is the only thing keeping her from boiling alive, but refuses to leave the shade of the overhanging boughs from the nearby oak. The sun is beating down, straining to see around the leaves and branches, and oh, she can just feel Apollo craning his dumb head around to peep at her and the rest of the ladies that had dove into the water to escape his damn heat.

"If he thinks sitting in the same spot, cooking us alive, is going to get us to come out and flash our tits at him, I'll kill him myself," she announces and got a chorus of agreements in return.

Somewhere in one of the other shadows, Artemis sighs and stands up. Getting her bow from the grass and fishing an arrow out, she walks out from under the trees and shoots the arrow into the sky--Persephone smirks as they all heard a yelp from miles up. "Move it or lose the ability to have children, asshole!" Artemis shouts and time finally seems to start again as her brother scrambles to get back on his way.