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Hot as Hades

Masterlist - Misc. masterlist - Animated movies / series 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

✧ Zeus and Hera as mortals ✧

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I’ve always wondered what Zeus and Hera would look like if they were mortal, so I edited them as mortals. (I was not going to go through all that trouble of learning how to draw them, so I just edited a screencap lmao)

I like how both of them turned out, but I’m especially happy with Hera. I love the color scheme I gave her. ♡

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Original screencap:

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#disney hercules #disney's hercules #disney zeus #disney hera #zeus #hera #screencap edit #hera is biracial #hercules got his eyes from hera #zeus said so himself