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hrefna-the-raven · 2 months ago

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Hot as Hades

Masterlist - Misc. masterlist

Chapters 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7

Words: 3481

Notes: this is it, the final chapter^^ we finally made :)

Warnings: smut (18+)

Chapter 8 - Henosis

Hades shoved him out of the way and, as he reached you, ignoring Aphrodite and Hephaestos, his slender fingers tightly gripped your wrist and he pulled you away from the party, not stopping until you both reached the gleaming golden gate.

"I'm sorry babe, this was a mistake. I don't understand why he can never gra-", Hades abruptly stopped mid-sentence, his eyes widening as a sudden realisation struck him, "I need to head to the Underworld!"

"What? Why? I mean I'm not overly comfortable being here but if you want to stay, I have no pro-"

Hades hushed you by pressing his finger on your lips. The warmth of his skin on yours almost made you shiver. The sensation stirred something deeper—a strange, rhythmic ache pulsing at the edges of your consciousness, like a memory trying to claw its way back into being. Everything about this moment felt misaligned, unreal—as if you'd stumbled into a dream laced with déjà vu. You flinched, a soft, broken sound escaping you as you fought to anchor your thoughts within the swirling fog overtaking your mind.

"Trust me, I'll explain everything somewhen, later maybe, okay? Right, well", he winked and turned around to address the other gods but your hand quickly reached for his, your delicate fingers wrapping around his wrist.

Hades froze, a thunderous silence bloomed in his chest as his heart pounded against his ribs. A flicker of crimson shimmered through his blue flaming hair—an unbidden tell of the storm he kept hidden. He had it all figured, the grand cosmic scheme that would not only get him Olympus but also your love and presence by his side. But now, with your hand clutching his and your eyes pleading for something real, something true, doubt cracked through the foundation of all his grand intentions. He turned his gaze back to you, and in that instant, something shifted. Your eyes, once so radiant and defiant, now shimmered with unshed tears. That sorrow—your sorrow—pierced through his immortal certainty like a dagger. His stomach turned violently, nausea surging through him, foreign and terrifying. Gods did not falter, not like this, they wouldn’t feel this… broken.

“Talk to me”, you pleaded, your voice trembling with emotion, raw with fear and longing.

The sadness in your usually bright eyes almost shattered his heart in a million pieces. If he could just speak, if he could just give you the truth you deserved. But the weight of his choices pressed down on him, heavy and relentless, pulling him into a pit of guilt and dread. He clenched his jaw, shutting his eyes for a fleeting moment of escape, of cowardice—until he felt the soft, insistent pull at his wrist.

“I'm sorry. You mind runnin' that by me again? I must have had a chunk of brimstone wedged in my ear or something...”, Hades mumbled.

“I said”, you repeated, slower now, sharper, your grip on his wrist tightening, “why do you keep leaving this party to drop me off in my home like some abandoned offering on Poseidon's front porch? And don't give me your cryptic broody ‘I have the underworld to run’ excuse, I’m not buying it. Again.”

Something subtle but unmistakable shifted in Hades’ expression. It wasn’t just the usual dramatic God-of-Death brooding panted across his feature, but genuine fear. And Hades was not one to get flustered easily, he faced Cerberus’ dental checkups with more composure but something in your tone, that little crack, bore into the depth of that dark endless pit forming in his stomach.

“I…” he tried, but the word faltered, falling uselessly from his lips.

And all over the sudden, the tension within him snapped. He’d seen this scene play out before. His gaze found yours and both of your eyes widened as the realisation hit you. The room suddenly spun—or maybe it didn’t, maybe it were your own minds buckling under the weight of the realisation—but you staggered back, clutching your forehead while Hades’ mouth dropped open.

“Oh gods. Ohhh gods,” you breathed. “I remember. I remember now.”

“This is déjà ruin. I’ve been here before with you and it…”, Hades started but his voice trailed off.

“…and it ended in disaster,” you finished for him, your voice barely more than a whisper—and yet somehow louder than the entire cacophony of drunk gods arguing over who invented sarcasm.

An almost too loud and too manic laughter escaped your mouth. It burst from your lips like a cork flying off Dionysus’ champagne—less from amusement, more from the absurdity of it all. Because here you were. Again. At this cursed party. And Hades, sweet, brooding, Lord of Gloom and Doom, emotionally constipated Hades, was already halfway through the script of his own brooding Greek tragedy.

“You left”, you said, jabbing a trembling finger at his chest, “you left to ‘fix’ fate. You said you’d only be gone for a moment, just a little tweak, just a tiny cosmic tug here or there.”

“I had to!”, Hades interjected, hands flailing with a kind of dramatic flair that could only come from someone who spent several centuries perfecting monologues, “you don’t understand what was at stake. Aren't you forgetting one teensy-weensy, but ever so crucial, little, tiny detail? You’re a mortal! Fragile! You have a built-in expiration date!”

You squinted at him, arms folding tighter than Hera’s budget spreadsheets. “Oh, so now I’m the problem? You’re Chronos-blocking me because I have a mortal expiration date? Wow. I feel so empowered. Thank you for your service, Death Daddy.”

Hades groaned and dramatically rubbed his temples like the sheer weight of your sarcasm was giving him an immortal migraine.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Oh, I heard what you meant”, you snapped but a desperate chuckle erupted from your lips as you continued, “but let me tell you now what you wouldn’t listen to last time: I’m already fucking IMMORTAL!”

Hades stared at you, wide-eyed, unmoving. Your voice boomed through the clouds and the chatter and clinking of glasses abruptly stopped, each and every single god and goddess turned their head to stare at you and Hades. Even Zeus, who was never shy to loudly proclaim a joke at Hades’ was not uttering a single word or sound at the shock. Hades blinked. Once. Twice. Like you'd just told him Persephone had taken up interpretive dance and was choreographing a piece called " Underworld Unplugged: A Movement Meditation on Eternal Captivity and Seasonal Allergies".

“You’re... what now?”, he asked, voice cracking on the last syllable, his whole divine being devoid of its usual sleezy sarcasm.

“Immortal”, you said again, biting each syllable, “IMM. OR. TAL. You know, the whole not-aging, can’t-die, sparkle-at-dawn package. Somewhere in your grand tragedy-fuelled rewrite of reality, and I’m not naming names, but it starts with A and ends with -phrodite—tried to help us.”

Somewhere behind you, Hermes choked on an olive and Aphrodite pretended to cough into her wine while clearly stifling a giggle, but you couldn’t care less.

“And despite all that, despite the pain and heartbreak and the fact that I now had to witness Zeus retell the same lame jokes in eight different varieties at this cursed party, I’d still chose you.”, you sighed, the last words you ended your rant on surprising even you.

The silence that followed was so absolute it could have made an echo insecure. Then, slowly—very slowly—Hades stepped forward, gaze locked on yours. The usual chill around him, the little aura of frosty gloom and brooding dramatics, had been replaced with something else entirely. A comforting warmth a pinch of fear and, against all odds, a terrifying amount of hope, but before you could get the first word out, Hades surged forward and kissed you. The kiss broke gently after a while, like a wave pulling back from shore. You looked up at him, breathless, slightly dizzy, and suddenly very aware that every god and goddess within earshot was now staring like they’d just witnessed Mount Olympus’ juiciest soap opera twist. Even Hera had leaned forward, eyes narrowed, wine forgotten. A loud throat-clear, regal, booming, unmistakably coming from Zeus, filled the room.

“Well, this is touching,” Zeus said, stepping forward with all the subtlety of a parade float, “but I do believe there are… shall we say, cosmic implications to what just happened here.”

He glanced between the two of you, eyes glinting with interest that was equal parts curiosity, concern, and a healthy dose of elder-sibling nosiness. Hades didn’t move, he didn’t even look at Zeus. Instead, with the air of someone who had absolutely no time for interruptions anymore, he simply raised a hand.

“Shhh,” he said, with the casual, arrogant grace of a man who had waited several eons to do exactly this.

Zeus blinked.

"Did you just—"

You blinked and reality shifted, you were no longer standing on the shimmering glittering clouds of Olympus, surrounded by divine eavesdroppers.

You opened your eyes again, taking in the full haunted ballroom-meets-bachelor-pad aesthetic of the bedroom you were now standing in. The black stone bed loomed behind you like it had opinions about your soul. The carved skulls in the headboard seemed to be locked in a permanent state of dramatic whispering, and the flames at the headpiece, blue, of course, flickered as if sighing in rhythm with your heartbeat. And then there he was, Hades, Lord of the Underworld, drama incarnate, standing before you with that signature smirk that said “I’m the villain, baby, but I’m also your biggest mistake and your greatest love story”.

You barely had time to process the look in his eyes before his hands found your waist. And whoosh, your clothes vanished into a wisp of inky smoke. You gasped, stumbling back a step, your feet bumping into the bed, but Hades pulled you gently back toward him, his hands warm and grounding despite the chill that lingered in the air. He was silent for a moment, his eyes drinking in every inch of you, not lecherous, not possessive, just… awe-struck, like he couldn’t believe you were real, that you were here, with him, finally.

“Zeus will take this away”, he said, his words tumbling out faster than his mouth could control, “he’ll twist it or banish it or…I dunno…host a family intervention with lightning bolts and passive-aggressive monologues, but I can’t—I won’t—let you go again. I need you.”

He paused, gulped, then added, almost like he couldn’t stop himself.

“I… I love you.”

And there it was. Not a flashy declaration with lightning in the background, but Hades, the real one, raw, vulnerable. The god of death who suddenly seemed so very human. His grip tightened and his lips found yours without giving you time to react to his words. His kiss, first tender, quickly deepened, desire and desperation evident as his tongue eagerly passed your lips, teasing and coaxing with an insatiable, yet loving hunger. You swallowed a moan and your mind went wild, flooding with the sweet memories of how he had parted your legs, dragging his tongue through your folds in your third date. But Hades wouldn’t content himself with this simple act of giving pleasure this time. No, every fibre in his divine immortal body craved all of you. He needed to have you, bask in that deliciously sweet pleasure of becoming one with you at least once before Mr. High and Mighty would destroy his happiness yet again.

Hades pushed you on the bed, your back hitting the surprisingly soft mattress and your legs instinctively parted. His toga dissipated into thin black smoke, and, for the second time, you got a glimpse of that divine body. His grey skin highlighted the contours of his defined muscles perfectly, even more so in the soft glowing light that seemed pierce through the walls to illuminate the room in a soft blue light. He wasted no time and pressed against your growing wetness as he leaned down. A sinful moan escaped you and you looked at him with anticipation. It was finally happening, the unison between two souls. With one swift movement he pushed inside of you and both of you groaned. He remained still for a moment, relishing in the feeling of your wet warmth enveloping him. Your walls gently pulsed and as he started moving, you lost all sense of time as your head fell back. His movements were slow but dominant, hitting that sweet spot deep within you with every thrust. This wasn’t just about the pleasure of the flesh, it ran deeper, touching your soul in a way nothing had ever managed to do. His hand found its way to your head, slender fingers tenderly curling around the back of your neck as he leaned in closer. His lips collided with yours in a passionate kiss, both of you moaning into the embrace. His tongue pushed past your lips, deepening the kiss. You were the one to break the kiss first, gasping for air and desperately trying to ignore the pleasure pulsating between your thighs as he kept on thrusting.

“I love you too”, you breathed.

The words felt just right, a perfect confession in the perfect moment. Hades’ hands moved to your hips, fingers digging into your soft flesh as he pulled you closer to him, his movements growing more erratic and faster. His eyes locked with yours, the intensity of his gaze was nearly overwhelming. And then, the feeling of pure bliss cursed through your bodies as he moved his hips in a perfect rhythm, the heated embrace of desire, lust and immortal love unleashed as both of you toppled over the edge. Your walls clenched around his hard length, greedily taking in every last drop of him. Hades leaned in and brushed a soft kiss against your lips before resting his forehead gently against yours, his arms tightening protectively around you like he was daring the cosmos to try and pull you away.

“I don’t care what Zeus decides,” he murmured, voice low and steady.

“I’ll fight for you. Always.”

His words weren’t just defiance, they were devotion carved in starlight. In his embrace, you felt it all: the ancient, aching love he held for you, the way your very existence steadied him, soothed the storm that had lived behind his eyes for so long.

“Are you sure?”

The question passed your lips before you could even realise it.

“Please”, he added, pulling back just slightly with a crooked smirk, “if he does try to pull the whole ‘mortal again’ stunt? Please. I’ve wrestled titans. I’ve handled Cerberus with the hiccups. I’ve even sat through a family dinner with Athena and Ares. I can handle this.”

You laughed despite yourself, and the sound lit something up in him, something fierce and tender all at once.

“I’m serious, sweetheart”, he said, his fingers brushing your cheek with surprising gentleness, “if Mr High and Mighty thinks he can just snap his fingers and take you away from me, I’ll unleash the Titans on Olymp.”

Your heart swelled, caught between the gravity of his love and the absurd charm only Hades could pull off mid-crisis. You smiled, leaning into him again, the threat of Zeus lingering like a shadow on the horizon but in his arms, you felt untouchable.

Thunder cracked across the golden sky of Mount Olympus, shaking the very columns of the great hall as Zeus paced with growing irritation. Sparks danced from his fingertips, each step of his enormous sandaled foot echoing like a drumroll of disapproval. He was grumbling to himself again.

“Mortals becoming gods, gods dating mortals who now are immortal without my permission… What’s next? Dionysus marrying a cloud?”

It wasn't that Zeus disliked love. He just didn’t like it being decided over his head. He had established careful rules for a reason, one that currently escaped his mind but it was there, surely… Especially when it involved Hades, his somewhat-singed and perpetually sarcastic brother, that he loved, truly, surely, suddenly forming a soul-deep bond with someone who wasn’t technically supposed to be immortal. Zeus’s grip tightened around his lightning bolt.

“Enough”, he muttered, “time to fix this. She’s going back to being mortal. End of story.”

But before he could unleash his divine decree, the room darkened. The air turned cold, the kind of cold that whispered of destiny and things far older than Olympian pride. In a swirl of thread, shadow, and grim amusement, the Fates appeared. Clotho smiled like she’d seen this coming for centuries, which she obviously had. Lachesis crossed her arms, already exasperated. Atropos simply held up her scissors, their glint sharp enough to silence even Zeus.

“This isn’t your story, thunder boy”, they said, not with anger, but with certainty, like three librarians scolding someone for rearranging the books of the universe.

They held up the golden thread that bound Hades and his beloved together, its light steady and unyielding. Not a fray in sight. The thread shimmered with the undeniable truth: this love, this connection, was fated. Woven with intention. Stronger than divine opinion. Zeus opened his mouth to protest but no words came out. Not even a thunder pun. Because deep down, even he could see that this wasn’t about him. Hera, who stood beside him, nodded with a little smirk. This wasn’t about power, godly protocol or maintaining cosmic balance for the sake of appearances. This was Hades’ love story and you were woven into the very tapestry of his fate. And no bolt of lightning, no rulebook from Olympus, not even from Mr "Hey You Get Off My Cloud" could unravel what had already been woven. Zeus let out a sigh that shook the sky, echoing across the marble halls like a rolling storm reluctantly heading out to sea. Sparks fizzled at his fingertips, but they dimmed, fading into harmless wisps of static as his shoulders slumped just slightly.

“Fine,” he muttered, “let my little brother have his fairy tale.”

He cast a sideways glance at Hera, who gave him a prim, knowing look that said “you’re learning, dear”. She reached up and gently patted his arm. Zeus grumbled something about “family chaos” and “romance ruining structure” before turning his attention back to the Fates, who were already halfway out the door—or dimension, rather—leaving behind a faint shimmer of golden thread and the faint smell of vintage parchment.

Before vanishing entirely, Lachesis turned back over her shoulder, calling out dryly, “next time, read the thread before throwing a tantrum.”

Clotho waved with the enthusiasm of someone who’d just seen her favourite drama renewed for another season.

“Tell Hades we said congrats!”

Atropos didn’t speak—she simply made a very deliberate snip in the air, cutting off any chance Zeus had at reopening the matter. And then they were gone.

And far beyond Olympus, beyond the Underworld, beyond even the mortal realm where heroes and legends were etched into stone and song, five familiar voices rose from an ancient mural mosaic into the cosmic air, bright, bold, and impossible to ignore.

The ever-watchful storytellers of fate, history, legends and everything worth belting out in perfect harmony. They didn’t just witness tales, no, they sang them, made them into the entertaining shimmer in the minds of gods and mortals alike. And as the final threads of this story settled into place, they gathered once more in their timeless stage between realms, deep within the fourth wall, where stars were spotlights and the sky was always opening for an encore. This time, they weren’t singing of a muscle-bound hero with daddy issues. No, not yet, that was a tale for later, maybe in a strange year the mortals would call the year 1997. This tale was different. It was darker, deeper, it held more shadow than sunshine but no less worthy of song.

They leaned in, radiant and knowing, each with a sparkle in her eye as she looked upon the story that had just unfolded. The Lord of Dead had found love, not in conquest or bargain, but in quiet devotion. You, a mortal had risen beyond fate, not through power, but through the strength of your heart. And even the King of Olympus, thunderbolt and divine supreme authority and all, had stepped aside in the face of something older than his crown: destiny. The Muses watched it all with amused pride. This was not a tale of rules or titles. It was a tale of choosing someone, not because they were safe or easy, but because the bond was real. It was fate with a twist, romance with a bite, and if you asked them, well... it was long overdue. They would, of course, tell it again. Often and with the usual flair and rhythm.

Thanks for sticking with me along this story :) <3

Tags: @makanirock05 / @dd122004dd / mythirdlife235 / @anna6anana

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hrefna-the-raven · 2 months ago

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Hot as Hades

Masterlist - Misc. masterlist

Chapters 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6

Words: 1523

Notes: Hi it's me, after a long break of depression and a stressful work life... and yes I'm still not in the right mindset to continue this story so it might feel a bit off but bear with me ☺️ [I sincerely hope to get back on track with writing a little bit again 😅]

Chapter 7 - Pulled threads

The imps had deposited you—none too gently—on your chaise lounge with all the grace of two bats dropping a melon. Panic immediately started wringing his ridiculous tunic like it owed him money, while Pain paced the room in frantic little circles, resembling a hamster with a caffeine addiction and an existential crisis.

"You saw that, right?", Panic shrieked, wild-eyed and already mid-meltdown, "Hera touched him. Like, touched-touched! Not just a ‘pat you on the shoulder, we’re co-rulers’ touch. It was a caress—a Zeus-level caress!"

“He looked sad”, Pain muttered, fumbling with his fingers, “not just ‘underworld gloomy’ sad—heartbreak sad."

Panic nodded, chewing on a corner of his toga.

“The plan’s not working”, he mumbled through fabric. “not even a smidgen of working. We are in maximum 'be maimed' territory."

You straightened slowly, squinting at them suspiciously. Hades had mentioned a plan as well before it all escalated and while you didn't manage to get the truth out of him, you might be able to coax it out of those imps.

“What plan?”

Both imps froze mid-flail, limbs locking up like broken wind-up toys. Panic’s eyes darted in your direction, then back to Pain, who looked suddenly fascinated by the floor.

“We didn’t say plan!”, Panic blurted too quickly, “did we say plan? I meant pan. As in, goat-boy. Y'know, playing his flute, causing mischief—”

“Plan, you morons,” you said, standing now, arms crossing, one eyebrow rising with divine judgment, “What. Plan.”

Pain whimpered—an unholy squeaky sound—as though your voice alone had the power to summon an audit from Zeus himself. The effect was instantaneous: they both collapsed to their knees in pure, panicked reverence, like your fury had proven what they already suspected—that you were absolutely made for Hades.

“It was his idea!”, Panic blurted, grasping his head like he could squeeze the confession back in, “Hades I mean! He didn’t mean for it to go wrong! He just tweaked a tiny part of the tapestry. A little loop-de-loop. A divine touch-up! Hardly illegal! ...Mostly!”

Your stomach did a graceful dive off a metaphorical cliff at the imp’s words.

“He did what?!”

Pain flinched, his eyes darting to the ground underneath his shuffling feet.

“He... rewrote the Fates’ tapestry. Made himself King of Olympus. Figured if he had a throne, you’d have a reason to stay. That he'd be... enough.”

Panic took a cautious step forward, his hands held up as if he was trying to convince you that you shouldn’t punish or torture him.

“He thought if he built a world where he could love you openly, without Zeus or death or fate in the way, you’d… stay.”

Silence crashed between you all. No thunder. No dramatic chords. Just silence, heavy and raw.

“Oh gods”, you whispered.

“He just wanted a future”, Pain offered, his voice cracking.

Your chest tightened. All the pieces clicked—ugly, brilliant pieces, like in an ancient Greek tragedy. You turned away from them, the sudden rush of understanding stealing your breath.

“I need to see him!”, you demanded.

Panic blinked.

“Now?”

“Yesterday!”, you almost shouted before taking a deep breath, “I already had one…a future…”, you said, breathless now, “Aphrodite gave it to me. Quietly. No parade. No Zeus. Just a whispered blessing and drank that suspicious red liquid from that golden goblet which gave me a headache that lasted a week. I didn’t tell anyone and he never gave me a chance to talk to him.”

The imps gasped.

“But... but Hades doesn’t know that”, Panic said, “he thought—he thought time was against you both.”

And suddenly, you understood. All of this—Olympus, the golden throne, the absurd disguise, Hera’s ridiculous sudden attraction and her lingering touch—it wasn’t ambition, it wasn’t even about revenge. It was fear. The fear of losing you. Of running out of time. Of fate, or rather the Fates, snapping the thread before love had a chance to hold. And worse—you hadn’t told him that you had been made immortal already.

Hades had now fully committed to his dramatic spiral. Reclining—well, more like collapsing—on the throne of Olympus, he looked like a theatre dropout stuck in the wrong play. The clouds underfoot rumbled and his flaming hair was reduced to a soggy blue flicker, like a cheap birthday candle in a draft.

Atropos arrived first, as always, looking like she'd just dropped in from a gossip salon of cosmic proportions. Lachesis and Clotho weren’t far behind, giggling and twirling the glowing thread of fate between their fingers.

“You’re sulking,” Clotho chirped, spinning a strand of golden fate around her finger.

“I’m having a really bad day...besides I'm plotting", Hades muttered.

“Oh please”, Lachesis sighed, inspecting her nails, “if this is plotting, then Ares is a pacifist.”

Atropos raised a brow.

“We warned you, you know. But nooo, the great Lord of the Underworld knows best. Just one teensy little adjustment to the tapestry, you said. A harmless stitch here, a majestic ego trip there.”

“‘Let’s just make myself king of Olympus, I’m sure no one will notice", Clotho chimed, mimicking his voice with theatrical flair.

“I thought it would fix things", Hades muttered more to himself than to them, slumping deeper into the throne like he hoped it might swallow him.

“Mhm", Atropos said, “because that always works. Rewrite fate, win the girl. Classic.”

“She was slipping away and I so close! So close, we tripped at the finish line!", he snapped, his hair flaring up in fiery red for a moment, “I had to do something.”

Clotho’s eyes sparkled.

“Slipping? Sweetie, she hasn’t been going anywhere for weeks now.”

Lachesis smirked.

“At least, not since someone gave her that little glow-up.”

Hades blinked.

“What are you talking about?”

Atropos tilted her head, mock-innocent.

“Oh, nothing. Just… funny how people always assume immortality only comes with Zeus’ approval.”

Just as you were about to order the imps to bring you back to Olympus, a swirl of shadows and flames materialised right in front of you. The underworld’s chill filled the room like an ill-timed draft as Hades stood before you in all his gloomy glory, finally rid of the silly hairdo and magenta toga. Your eyes met—his dark and fierce, full of longing and regret; yours lost and startled, trembling with a fragile hope you barely dared to breathe. As you blinked in surprise, he stretched out a hand of hope—missed by a breath, a heartbeat, a single tragic step.

“I found you”, he mouthed, voice swallowed by the silent void between moments.

“I’m right here”, you gasped, reaching out but it was already too late.

And then, like a cosmic sigh, the Fates appeared—Atropos smirking, Clotho twirling her spindle, Lachesis tapping her gleaming thread.

“Oh, no, no, no", Atropos declared, voice dripping with amused finality, “this isn’t how the story goes.”

With a deft tug, the tapestry unravelled, threads glowing and shimmering, then rewove itself with the precision of the three master weavers.

Suddenly, you were back standing at that very party on Olympus, the golden goblet of suspicious red nectar in your hand, Aphrodite’s whisper still fresh on your lips.

The moment before immortality. The moment before everything changed. And the tragic dance was set to begin again…

The room was quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that practically screams something theatrical is about to happen. Then – sigh! – followed by a series of high-pitched giggles, all coming from… an old, suspiciously dusty vase standing dramatically on a pedestal. Ancient, sure. Mysterious, definitely. And now? Very much alive. The painted figures on its surface began to move, hips swaying, arms twirling like they were mid-Broadway number. Colour bloomed across the clay as five very familiar, very expressive women came to life – the muses.

“Ah, the timeless tale retold—where the grumpiest of gods can’t seem to catch a break, or each another. Classic epic heartbreak, right here, honey”, Calliope purred, already halfway into an aria of doom.

“I mean, come on”, Clio chimed in, rolling her eyes and unrolling a scroll with dramatic flair, “this is supposed to be epic. Star-crossed lovers, fate’s cruel twists, all that jazz. And what do we get? A finger almost touches a hand and whoop! the Fates conveniently reweave that tapestry.”

Melpomene held up her frowning mask, letting her head fall back dramatically, the longest most agonising sigh escaping her lips.

"Ah, the agony of almost-touching—so deliciously tragic it could bring a tear to my eye. Or five. But shouldn’t we finally head to the end of the story?"

“Every great story needs tension, suspense, and a few heartbreaks. Keeps the audience on their toes and all. I’m sure we’ll be on track very soon", Thalia shrugged and smiled confidently.

All the muses looked forward, away from the vase, almost as if they were looking at someone staring back at them in this very moment…and then with a collective shimmy and a dramatic jazz hand farewell, the Muses shimmered back into their painted forms on the vase – now suspiciously smirking in still life.

Chapter 8 - Henosis (18+)

Tags: @makanirock05 / @dd122004dd / mythirdlife235 / @anna6anana

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hrefna-the-raven · 2 months ago

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Hot as Hades (update)

Hey my lovely readers :)

I'm back, sort of, and I'm actually able to write again soooo I started writing chapter 7 of Hot as Hades. I still don't know how to resolve this story but I'll find a good ending eventually *fingers crossed* For now, I'll try to finish the next chapter and see where it goes :) but daaaaaamn, it's good to be back and be able to write again <3

Here is the complete list of chapters again and stay tuned ;)

Chapter 1 - Call me with a prayer

Chapter 2 - Prophecy

Chapter 3 - Third base (18+)

Chapter 4 - Invitation

Chapter 5 - The party

Chapter 6 - The tapestry of fate

Chapter 7 - Pulled threads

Oh and if you want to be tagged, just let me know :D

#disney hercules #disney #disney villains #disney hades #hot as hades #hades x you #hades x reader #disney x reader #disney x you

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hrefna-the-raven · 2 months ago

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The Kamskis

Masterlist - DBH masterlist

Summary: You and Elijah reshape old forbidden memories

Chapters: 1 - 3 - 4 - 5

Warnings: reader is Elijah's sister and this is a smut (18+) chapter (smut is in the first part of the chapter if you want to skip)

Words: 1432

Reader: sister reader, otherwise no specific descriptions used

Chapter 2

You pushed your brother back, but before he could voice out his protest, you sat on his lap, feeling his growing erection as you ground your hips against him.

“We really shouldn't do this”, you quietly mumbled before kissing him yet again.

Elijah unbuttoned your jacket, grabbed your breasts, squeezed them gently. With a playful moan you broke the kiss and shrugged out off your clothes, unhooking your bra with ease as your brother impatiently observed you. You could feel his cock getting harder underneath your subtle movements and a slow, teasing smirk curved your lips as you looked at him, your teeth grazing your bottom lip—not just from desire, but from the ache of longing that had been building for far too long.. Why did you even run off missing all this for such a long time? Your fingers trembled slightly as they traced the edge of his black silken bathrobe, not out of hesitation, but from the flood of emotion threatening to overwhelm you. With deliberate care, you undid the lace, letting the robe fall from his shoulders in a whisper of fabric. The sight of him—his pale skin catching the soft light, the sharp contrast of his icy blue eyes—stole the breath from your lungs. Those eyes didn’t just look at you; they saw you, reaching into places you'd long buried. A quiet awe settled over you as your gaze wandered across his body, taking in the lines of muscle, the subtle curves shaped by time and strength. Every inch of him was a memory waiting to be remade. You slightly lifted your hips as one hand rested on Elijah’s waist, while the other slipped down to cup the bulge in his boxers. He shivered and moaned at your every touch. He had craved this for such a long time, and now, that it was finally happening again, he could barely stand you teasing him this much.

"I'll show you what else we shouldn't do", he murmured, his hands sliding to your waist with a gentleness that contrasted the hunger in his eyes.

Then, in one swift motion, he guided you onto your back, the couch pressing against your spine as your body melted into it—into him. He rose to his feet, removing his underwear before undressing your completely. Elijah sat in front of your legs, spreading them slowly before gently circling your clit with his fingers, watching you writhe and falling apart.

"Elijah!", you moaned out loud, your eyes falling shut.

He responded with sticking two fingers inside your wet entrance, curling them a bit while thrusting to find the right spot.

"Please....oh fuck!", you whimpered, grabbing his hand, pulling it out of you after a few minutes before slowly licking your own juices off his fingers as you held his sharp gaze.

He smirked from ear to ear, positioning him over your body, pressing the head of his dick against you before entering you tantalisingly slow. Both of you groaned and your back arched up, the tension of the pleasure and forbidden intimacy almost snapping your last thread of sanity. You both needed this and neither of you had felt this good in a long time. He started pounding at a slower pace, trying to hit the spot that he knew would drive you crazy. Oh and he quickly found it again, he still knew exactly where it was hidden, only available to him as he had played out that memorable night in his thoughts over and over again while touching himself during the last year. He thrust harder, feeling his imminent orgasm.

"Mmh, Eli, I can't hold it any longer", you whined, throwing your head back, your walls clenching around him as you climaxed.

He growled, thrusting a few more times, moaning your name as he came. His body slumped down next to you on the couch, breathing hard as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. He was strangely content, feeling truly blessed to have you, his beloved sister, here in his arms again. He trailed gentle sweet kisses along your neck, smiling like a happy little idiot in love. You returned his smile as relief finally washed over you. No more running, you thought to yourself.

"I will never stop to give you all you need, my little sister", he breathed in a hot whisper against your neck, "I love you so much, please never leave me again."

You walked through the spacious rooms of the Cyberlife tower, on your way to visit a peculiar friend of yours while you played with a coin, letting it glide effortlessly from finger to finger. You weren’t just the younger sibling of Elijah Kamski—the famed prodigy dubbed “Man of the Century”—you were, in your own right, a force of innovation. But unlike your brother’s obsession with the synthetic perfection of form and function, you had always been drawn to something else: the delicate fusion of logic and intuition, of programmed precision and human instinct. Your current project embodied that vision—an android detective, not just a cold instrument of law enforcement, but a sentient partner capable of understanding human complexity. Cyberlife planned its release in August this year, leaving you about six months to finish the project. The android was practically finished, but nevertheless you felt nervous and tried to test him as much as possible before he was made official. As you stepped into the basement-level lab, the door hissed softly behind you. Standing at attention by the console was the android—sleek, upright, the picture of composure.

“Good morning, Miss Kamski!”, he greeted you with polite enthusiasm, his tone carefully measured, his posture impeccable, “how are you today?”

His voice, though warm, felt… rehearsed. Familiar but too hollow.

“I’m fine,” you replied, peeling off your jacket and making you way to the terminal, “and you?”

"I would describe my condition as ready and eager to be of service. What are we going to do today?"

That ever-smooth tone—it lacked something. The unpredictable spark of a true personality. The unpredictable humanness.

"How about choosing a name for you? I don't want to call you by your number all the time", she moved up to him, "but you will choose the name yourself. How do you want to be called?"

The android blinked. His LED glowed yellow as he processed your request, and his expression subtly shifted from confident to uncertain.

"It is not in my program to accomplish such a task."

“That’s exactly why I want you to try”, you replied gently but with a subtle hint of a challenge, eyes fixed on his, “think beyond your code. What would you want to be called, if it were entirely up to you?”

The LED flickered between yellow and red, and his hands fidgeted at the hem of his jacket—an unusual gesture, one you had never seen from him before.

"I...I can't, Miss Kamski. I'm a machine, designed to accomplish a task."

There was something in his voice—uncertainty, maybe even fear. A machine couldn’t feel, but still, there it was, unmistakable in his tone. Doubt. You stepped closer, slowly reaching out to take his hands. Your fingers curled gently around his. His systems reacted at once—processes stabilizing, stress levels normalizing. Your touch had an inexplicable, almost illogical, effect on him.

"Don't think too much, just take a figurative breath and tell me a name you like and want to be called with."

And then… something shifted. He was quiet for several seconds, then said—softly at first, as though afraid to break the moment—

“Connor”, he repeated it, louder this time, when he saw the way you smiled at him, “I want to be called Connor.”

“Connor…” you mused, testing the sound on your tongue. “Connor the android detective. I like it. It fits.”

A strange jolt coursed through his synthetic heart. His thirium pump stuttered for just a second—an anomaly. Not an error, but something else. Something he didn’t understand. It wasn’t unpleasant. If anything, it felt… good. You still held his hands, your eyes bright with pride and warmth. He felt more than stabilized—he felt seen. He was just a machine. He reminded himself of that. And yet, whenever you were near, something stirred beneath his code. A faint echo of something impossible. He had no language for it yet—just an awareness. A pull. For now, he would not speak of it. It would pass. And even if it didn’t, it would not interfere with his primary function.

Chapter 3

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hrefna-the-raven · 6 months ago

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Third time's a charm

Masterlist - Misc. masterlist

Words: 545

Summary: Henry falls in love with reader, who works at the local bathhouse

Reader: female reader in mind

Notes: I'm not that far in the game yet but Henry is just adorable and I had an idea as I heard him say the quote below :)

The lanterns flickered softly, casting a warm glow over the rising steam. The gentle murmur of water and the occasional splash created a serene atmosphere. It was an ordinary night, except that, for the third time that week, Henry of Skalitz graced the establishment with his presence, that cheeky yet endearing smile playing across his rather tempting lips. Henry strode in, his charmingly rugged features barely concealed by the steam. His eyes, a shade caught between stormy skies and tranquil seas, found you straightaway. A small shy grin tugged at your lips as you pretended not to notice him, busying yourself with a tray of fragrant oils.

"Good evening, my comely lady", Henry greeted, his voice carrying a playful edge, "I find myself in need of your fine services yet again."

You turned to face him, heart pounding just a little faster.

"Thrice in one week, Sir Henry? And always requesting my presence? The townsfolk shall surely gossip", you teased.

"Let them talk", Henry replied with a chuckle, "I seek only the finest, and that happens to be you. And please, just Henry will do - I'm no knight."

His brazen words sent pleasant shivers down your spine. The chemistry between you both had been unmistakable from day one, growing with each clandestine visit. You guided him to a secluded alcove, where a steaming bath awaited. He shrugged off his clothes, revealing a few battle-worn scars, and sank into the water with a contented sigh.

As you poured water over his broad shoulders, your fingers brushed against his skin, causing both of you to pause momentarily. Henry reached up, capturing your wrist in his grasp, his thumb caressing the sensitive spot where your pulse danced beneath.

"Do thoughts of me occupy your mind when I'm not here?", he asked, his tone suddenly serious.

Your breath hitched, the raw intensity in his gaze drawing a confession from your lips.

"Perhaps more frequently than I ought to admit", you confessed with a shy smile.

Henry's eyes sparkled with delight and something deeper still. You leaned closer, barely a whisper apart, the air thick with unspoken words and feelings, the flickering candlelight cast playful shadows on the walls, but your attention remained solely on him. Slowly, the space between you vanished as Henry’s lips captured yours in a kiss that married playfulness with passion. It was a kiss that spoke of merriment, of shared laughter, and of a connection neither of you could deny any longer.

When finally you pulled apart, a thousand unspoken promises danced in the air. Henry rested his forehead against yours, his breath ragged, leaving your heart swelling with emotions you'd previously forbidden yourself to harbour. Here in his arms, you discovered a sense of home, as though you had finally found your place in this tumultuous times. Yet, as the moonlight streamed through the narrow window, casting a silver glow over everything it touched, you couldn't help but wonder what the future held. Would destiny continue to bind your tales together, or was this but a fleeting verse in life's grand ballad? As if sensing your thoughts, Henry placed a tender kiss on your forehead softly.

"Together, we shall weather whatever storms may come," he vowed, his voice steadfast.

#kingdom come deliverance 2 #kcd2 #henry of skalitz #henry of skalitz x reader #henry x reader #kcd2 reader #henry x you #henry of skalitz x you #fluff

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hrefna-the-raven · 6 months ago

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#atomic heart #beautiful artwork #атомик харт

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hrefna-the-raven · 6 months ago

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Bob? Is that you?^^

#kingdom come deliverance 2 #kcd2 #bob #beetlejuice #beetlejuice bob

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hrefna-the-raven · 7 months ago

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More goose on the loose and Pushkin

and Ryaba ❤️

Nothing special, just my favourite goose^^

#atomic heart #atomic heart goose #goose #this game is a wild fever dream #pushkin #dolphin pushkin #atomic heart dolphin #new dlc

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hrefna-the-raven · 7 months ago

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Nothing special, just my favourite goose^^

#atomic heart #goose #atomic heart goose #this game is a wild fever dream

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hrefna-the-raven · 8 months ago

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The Kamskis

Masterlist - DBH masterlist

Summary: After a year of absence, you, Elijah's sister, is finally returning home

Chapters: 2 - 3 - 4 - 5

Warnings: reader is Elijah's sister and there will be smut in later chapters

Words: 931

Reader: sister reader, otherwise no specific descriptions used

Chapter 1

You hesitated before knocking on the door. A year had slipped away since you'd last seen your brother; too much had transpired in Detroit before you parted ways. Amanda, his mentor, had passed away a decade ago, the weight of her absence had left him broken, and he'd found solace in tears and whiskey, drowning memories of loss in amber-filled glasses. You took a deep breath and watched the fog forming in the cold as you exhaled. The knock on the door echoed and it didn't take long before the large black door swung open and a RT600 appeared in the doorway. She greeted you with a warm smile.

"Welcome back. Elijah will be pleased to see you again.", Chloe greeted you with programmed warmth.

I'm sure he will be, you thought to yourself while stepping inside. Your gaze immediately fixed upon the enormous portrait of your brother. Yeah the ego of my dear brother, immeasurable by earthly standards, you chuckled to yourself. Chloe instructed you to wait while she disappeared through the door on the right side of the portrait. It felt strange to be back again, in an odd way, it was your home and he was your family, the only one left. Your heart began to race, nervousness slowly taking a hold of your body and mind. How would you react? How would he react? After all, you were the one who stormed off and left him behind. You had occasional contact throughout the year, but that mainly consisted of short mundane questions and generic answers to ensure that you were both still alive and doing over all okay.

Your heart skipped a beat as the sound of your name interrupted your trail of thoughts. You looked up, seeing him treading towards you, smiling anxiously but somewhat happy. He changed quite a bit during the last year. The glasses were gone, the hair still long and tied to a bun but shaved on the sides and he got rid of his beard. He looked more serious, more like the corporate titan he was rather than the passionate inventor you'd known.

"I missed you so much", he took another step forward and hugged you tight.

You melted into it instinctively; the familiar comfort of his presence, the warmth and gentleness of his touch. Your tension dissolved instantly. It truly felt right to return, to reunite with your only anchor in a world of strangers.

"I missed you too, brother", your voice cracked as you almost couldn't handle all emotions appearing at once.

"Come, we have much to discuss after all this time", he sounded calm and content.

You followed him to the living room. You were a bit shocked to see a huge portrait of you on a wall. It wasn't there when you left, he must have commissioned it during your absence. Elijah noticed you inspecting it.

"It was painful to watch it when you were gone, but I felt like I needed you watching over me, even if it was not the real you."

A certain painful sadness tinged his voice, it sounded as if you being away for so long almost shattered him. You suddenly felt sorry and tears welled in the corner of your eyes as you rushed to the couch.

"Eli, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have left, but what happened that night, I don't know, it felt...I...", you were sobbing.

He settled beside you, gently cupping your face and directing your gaze to meet his.

"Listen, little sister. I'm sorry too for what happened. I should have talked to you about my feelings, but I was overwhelmed by Amanda passing away. I felt so left alone, sad, like my soul was about to die and then there you were, like a beacon of hope illuminating my darkness. You cared about me and I suddenly had an epiphany", he paused, carefully weighing his next words in fear to scare you away again, "there are only two Kamskis left in this world, you and me, we are both quite unique, our minds perfectly aligned, our brilliance unmatched and there is no one else in this world who could ever understand our nature. We only have each other and we can never achieve true happiness with anybody else except us."

What was he doing? Why was he trying this again? Because he needed to, he assured himself, this was the only way any of them could be happy and he knew it. The year without you had nearly destroyed him, and he was determined to make you understand. He took a deep breath, looking you deep in the eyes.

"I know we’re breaking all the conventions, but those aren’t meant for us, we are not as small minded as them, we are family and I love you, sister!"

He surged forward, pressing his lips against yours in a passionate kiss. Stunned by this unexpected turn, you remained passive, allowing it to unfold. Though he was your brother and convention dictated otherwise, his logic was sound. Your attempts at normal relationships had invariably failed; other men never truly grasped your passions or intellect. You'd always felt misunderstood until that fateful night a year ago. The painful truth emerged - you'd fled not from disgust, but from shame. Shame because you enjoyed it, because you genuinely wanted it, though you'd never dared admit it... until now. Your arms encircled him as you returned his kiss with equal fervour. Perhaps he was right - perhaps all you needed for genuine happiness was him. After all, who were others to judge?

Chapter 2 (18+)

#detroit become human #dbh #detroit become human x reader #dbh x reader #dbh x female reader #elijah kamski #dbh kamski #elijah kamski x reader #kamski x reader #sister!reader #brother x sister #the lannisters would be proud #unhealthy relationships #androids #dbh chloe #detroit become human chloe #chloe rt600

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hrefna-the-raven · 8 months ago

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Hot as Hades

Masterlist - Misc. masterlist

Chapters 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5

Words: 1444

Notes: I'm still not in the right mindset to continue this story so it might feel a bit off but I promised another chapter so here it is ☺️ [also might rewrite this chapter as I'm not quite satisfied with it😅]

Chapter 6 - The tapestry of fate

"Come around again, Cinyras", Clotho purred with a sly wink.

Cinyras ran as fast as his legs could carry him until the realm of the Fates was out of sight. The body began to split with a rather undignified squelch, morphing into none other than Pain and Panic. The imps frowned in disgust as their shook their heads.

"I need several showers", Panic shuddered rubbing his arms nervously.

Pain nodded eagerly but before he could utter a word both of them were being pulled into the fabric of reality.

It had felt like an eternity when you last heard of the Lord of the Underworld and you almost laughed at the irony, given that you were now just as immortal as the god who held your heart hostage. Worries had been dominating your mind ever since he so hastily dropped you off without any explanation. Were you truly immortal? You didn't dare to try out of fear of ending your life way too early but then again, if you'd end up in the river of Styx, he'd actually be forced to talk to you. Thoughts after thoughts raced through your mind but before any of them could conclude, your physical form was warped away, falling through endless swirls of colours and stars before your feet hit a soft cloudy ground.

"Hiya love", you heard a familiar smug voice drawled.

Your eyes slowly wandered up, blinking in utter disbelief at the towering figure who stood before you, looking rather pleased with himself despite the peculiar circumstances.

"Hades?", you asked hesitantly.

Before you could ask yourself whether this was some sort of bizarre nightmare or reality gone completely bonkers, you felt the imps, who appeared a second after you, cling to you on each arm, clutching your hands tightly as they looked up, a glimmer of terror and suspicion dancing in their wide eyes.

"B-b-boss?!", both stammered, afraid he'd maim them on the spot for even asking.

Your gaze wandered over Hades' figure and he looked....ridiculous. He wore a magenta tunic, much as Zeus when you had seen him the first time. And speaking of unfortunate similarities, his signature flaming blue hair had vanished, replaced by absurdly styled white hair, again just like Zeus' before. However, both colours clashed rather horrendously with his naturally gloomy and melancholic aura that stubbornly refused to be brightened by his new ensemble.

"Of course it's me, babe. Who else would have the audacity to pull off this stunning look?", Hades declared, arms spread wide like he was expecting applause, "I suppose you're wondering what on earth is going on."

Hades noticed that you had been unaffected by the change in the tapestry and he let out a nervous chuckle, flashing you a toothy grin that seemed more desperate than charming.

"Underworld, actually," you corrected him dryly, "but yeah I do wonder quite a bit", the words slipping out before you could stop them.

You stood there utterly baffled, your next words trapped in your throat as your gaze drifted towards Pain and Panic who now wore Hermes' signature outfit. Both imps seemed to be equally confused as they looked down in disbelief at the white tunic they were wearing. Hades heaved a sigh worthy of a third-rate tragedy actor, clearly improvising, trying to come up with a plan as he went on.

"Well, my little flower, my little bird, my dear, you see it all started with a rather grandiose plan concocted by my ever-so-underwhelming brother, mister Hey-got-off-my-cloud, Zeus."

You couldn't suppress a snort of laughter; beneath this bizarre exterior, your Hades was still very much present, sarcasm intact.

"Zeus? A grand plan? Are you quite certain you haven't mixed up your own plotting with his?"

Hades flashed another grin, though it seemed more hesitant and forced than joyful.

"You see, darling, he's finally done it - decided to acknowledge my superior management skills and switch places. Can you believe it? The old thundercloud actually came to his senses and practically begged me to take over. Now that I'm here, properly installed as God of Gods and all that marvellous jazz, I thought we might make this little arrangement... mutually beneficial. If you catch my drift, babe?"

His words oozed with suspicious charm, like a snake oil salesman trying to peddle bottled lightning to Zeus himself. You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms as you tried to decipher the meaning behind his words, wondering if he'd finally lost his marbles after centuries of dealing with the dead. Hades’ expression was more earnest now, but a hint of sadness still glinted in his eyes. He strolled towards you, slowly reached out a hand, and when he got to you, he gently caressed your cheek, his touch light and warm.

"Don't worry, I didn't forget about you. In fact, you're a part of the plan, too."

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms as you tried to decipher the meaning behind his words. Hades, the usually overlooked ruler of the Underworld, now stood before you on Olympus with a confident air, one that was both unsettling, oddly charming and almost ridiculous, while looking like a caricature of Zeus. His grin widened, revealing sharp teeth that seemed to gleam in the dim light of the clouds around, looking rather like a shark who'd just spotted lunch.

"Alright, spill it," you demanded, swallowing the unease that had settled in your stomach, "what have you done?"

Hades chuckled darkly, a sound that sent shivers down your spine.

"Oh, it's simple, really - a stroke of genius, if I do say so myself. Ol' Zeusy gets a taste of what it's like being trapped down in the Underworld, and I, well deserved I might add, get to run Olympus. But more importantly”, he sidled closer, waggling his eyebrows, “I get to spend some quality time with you."

You couldn't push that gnawing doubt away that bloomed within you. There was something very wrong about this situation, and Hades was clearly hiding something behind that thousand-watt smile.

"Seriously, what have you done? Where is Zeus?", you asked in a stern tone as you carefully observing Hades.

"Zeus? Zeus? What is that, a candy or something?", Hades chuckled rather nervously, his usual charms failing him as he stuttered.

"The real king of Olympus."; you insisted.

Hades looked at you with a big smile but the sadness and despair in his eyes couldn't be hidden. The realisation that, despite him ruling the other gods now, his plan had not worked as planned, and he ran out of excuses to make this whole mess look good.

"Now, now, I've always been the king. Yeah yeah thank you. Hades has left the building.", he tried to joke, theatrically waving a hand.

"Yes honey, you've always been", Hera purred as she walked up to Hades, caressing his cheek lovingly. You blinked in disbelief at the scene unfolding in front of you. Pain and Panic saw your expression and before your mind could comprehend the incoming heartbreak, the imps flew towards you and swept you away, bringing you back to your home.

Hades shoved Hera away with a snarl that rivalled the one of Cerberus. Oh, this was just brilliant. Somewhere along the line, whilst playing master puppeteer with the Fates' precious tapestry, he'd managed to botch things up spectacularly. The grand master plan had been absolutely perfect in theory - he was supposed to become the illustrious king of Olympus, make you his immortal bride, and the two of you could have spent eternity lounging about in the fluffy clouds, sipping nectar and watching Zeus rot away in the dreary Underworld. But nooo, the universe just had to go and muck it all up, didn't it? Hades slumped down on throne that spontaneously formed out of the clouds and pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting the urge to set everything ablaze. This was a divine disaster and a fear slowly rose within him. After witnessing Hera's little display of affection, you'd probably rather marry a river guardian than become his bride.

"Well, if it isn't the strapping new ruler of Olympus Hades", Atropos's mocking voice cut through his self-pity party as she sauntered towards him, holding the eye in her hand, "not quite the mastermind you thought you were, eh?"

"Come to have a laugh at my expense? Well, go on then, knock yourself out!", Hades scoffed, flicking his hand dismissively.

Deep down, beneath all the snark and bravado, he felt like he'd lost you forever and though he wanted to blame everyone else for it, he knew in his heart that this tragedy was entirely his doing.

Chapter 7 - Pulled threads

Tags: @makanirock05 / @dd122004dd / mythirdlife235

#disney hercules #disney #disney villains #disney hades #hot as hades #hades x you #hades x reader #disney x reader #disney x you #disney hermes #disney zeus #zeus #olympus #pain and panic #the fates #atropos #tapestry of fate #disney hera #hera

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