Of Things Involving Fire
Title: Of Things Involving Fire
Media: Hercules
Pairing: Implied Hades/Meg
Smut Level: Questionable
Reason: Kink Meme
Warnings: Mentions of rape
Summery: The Zeus of lore took many beautiful human women in his time. And while his brother would usually ignore his actions he couldn't ever let Zeus get away with hurting Meg.
The fire came out of nowhere. It burned so hot that even the gods, impossibly perfect beings that they were, could not escape without angry red marks on their arms and legs. Even Poseidon couldn’t combat the flames which grew higher and hotter and soon the gods had all fled their perfect kingdom.
All but one.
Because the fire wasn’t burning wildly. It was burning with purpose.
It snaked through the once beautiful gardens, setting fire to the tall flowers and majestic trees. It heated the stained glass windows that had been decorated with the many adventures of the gods, turning them an intense red before they shattered, melting into puddles around the palace of the gods. The palace of the ruler of the gods which burnt in the furious fire.
Because the fire was looking for him.
And for all his strength Zeus could not beat back the fire. He could not stop it. He could only watch as his wife fled with their daughter, pondering how the flames could licks at the two women without leaving a mark. His Hestia was goddess of the hearth, a fire god in her own right, but this fire had burnt everything else in its path. What saved his quiet, often forgotten daughter? Why spare his wife, with her sharp temper and quick jealousy?
But no time to think about that, not when the fire had closed in on him, trapping him on all sides.
And then the fire turned blue.
“Hades?”
Every twisted act against his brother jumped to the front of his mind. Every heartless word. Every slap against his brother’s shoulder with strength the older god hadn’t seemed to inherit. Or perhaps this was about the realm of death he’d chained Hades to. It wasn’t his fault he’d received the heavens. They were his right. Someone needed to look over the dead.
“Whatever’s going through that thick skull of yours isn’t even close.” His brother said, moving closer. As he did the flames drew closer as well, raising so high he lost track of the sun. Perhaps they were a part of the sun. A heat even he couldn’t command, not when there was so much rage backing up his brother’s assault. “You couldn’t begin to fathom what you’ve done. Not when you’ve been doing it for so long.”
“Hades, you’re being ridiculous. What is this even about?” Zeus tried to draw himself up, tried to stare down his older brother, as he’d always been able to do. Hades shouldn’t dare to attack him. Not when he saved his siblings from their father. Not when he’d set about trapping the titans who had threatened everything. He had no right!
The fire moved in an instant, wrapping around him like chains. They burned into his arms, around his neck. And nothing he could do would throw them off.
“I’ve turned a blind eye to so many of your sins, brother. The crimes you commit against the goddesses and the human women. The crimes you commit against your bride. The crimes you commit against your children. I never really cared.”
He didn’t notice Hades moving, not with the blistering pain of the fire holding him down. He could feel his skin burning away, a painful inconvenience to a god and a death sentence to a mortal. In some spots he swore the fire had burnt to his very bones. And the whole while Hades just watched him, not gloating or grinning. Just watching.
“Your mistake, little brother, was touching what was mine.”
Somewhere past the pain and heat came the scent of jasmines and peach blossoms. The smell of tears and fear. A smell that prompted a memory.
Two memories.
The memory of a girl trailing after his brother, making sarcastic comments and making a rumbling sound that could be mistaken for a laugh. A girl, barely a woman and willing to follow the God of the Underworld out of an obligation. A woman who would stare down the King of the Gods with disgust on her face.
And then the memory of the woman he took. The woman he pressed against a wall, wearing the skin of the lover she had traded her soul for. The woman who kicked and punched and bit. The woman who eventually cried, pleading for someone to help her.
Had he even realized they were the same woman? Would he had stopped, even if he knew of his brother’s claim?
Alone in his burning kingdom the King of the Gods hung his head and waited for the punishment he knew was coming, wondering if he’d survive his brother’s rage.
---
The fire had been crackling happily since she’d settled in front of it almost three hours before. Occasionally it would dance for her, making clever shapes and twisting in fantastic ways. It would dip low, clinging to the logs that kept it alive until one of Hades’ little minions slipped in with more wood to keep the fire dancing. It seemed to wait until they had slinked away before jumping up again, happy to crackle once more.
Despite the heat Meg sat with a blanket around her, a thick ones the Fates had been weaving between seeing the future and ending lives. Once or twice Panic would try to get her to eat, or at least drink, but each time she would send him away with a wave of her hand.
The minutes turned to hours until she found herself lifted into the air. She didn’t fight, instead relaxing into the arms of the man who she had sold her soul to. In those moments it was like she was floating, up and up even if she was trapped in a cave far away from the sky. She must have muttered something silly about the sky because Hades was chuckling and she could feel it rumble through her.
“What did you do?” She asked, not sure she wanted the answer. No, she wanted the answer. She was just afraid it wouldn’t be enough.
“Burnt him down to his bones. Even for a god it’ll take some time to heal. Months. Maybe years.”
Meg found herself on the bed that Hades had given her after their first month together. It hadn’t been a kindness. It had been a requirement for getting her to stop kicking him out of his own bed. The rules of their “agreement” hadn’t included her being required to stay in the underground realm her new employer ruled over, but in her own words “there wasn’t any way she’d be passing through the gates of hell just to see if she had a job that day.” So one of the dark caves became hers, and slowly it grew a personality to match its owner. Tapestries covering the cave walls, plush pillows she’d demand from her boss after a particularly successful mission. Even some flowers that somehow managed to survive without any light.
It was her home, and it was far more comforting at the moment than a cave had any right to be.
When he put her down she pulled him after, wincing when his sharp elbow hit her side. And though he made a move to escape one sharp look and the god of the underworld found himself tucked against his minion. No use fighting. He couldn’t escape her if he wanted.
And just when he thought she had finally drifted to sleep she spoke. “Thank you.”
“For being your pillow?” He asked, knowing the joke was weak before it was finished.
“For knowing what happened. For not making me talk about it.” She paused, as though the words were stuck in her throat. Maybe they were. “For getting revenge.”
And in the dark of his underworld Hades kissed Meg’s hair as gentle as possible, should she break. Oh, she wouldn’t. Not with time. She was too strong for that. Too strong for Zeus to ever truly break her. But right now his firecracker, his wonderful Meg, was fragile. And even he could respect that.
“Anything for you, sweetheart.”
And together they slept.
Media: Hercules
Pairing: Implied Hades/Meg
Smut Level: Questionable
Reason: Kink Meme
Warnings: Mentions of rape
Summery: The Zeus of lore took many beautiful human women in his time. And while his brother would usually ignore his actions he couldn't ever let Zeus get away with hurting Meg.
The fire came out of nowhere. It burned so hot that even the gods, impossibly perfect beings that they were, could not escape without angry red marks on their arms and legs. Even Poseidon couldn’t combat the flames which grew higher and hotter and soon the gods had all fled their perfect kingdom.
All but one.
Because the fire wasn’t burning wildly. It was burning with purpose.
It snaked through the once beautiful gardens, setting fire to the tall flowers and majestic trees. It heated the stained glass windows that had been decorated with the many adventures of the gods, turning them an intense red before they shattered, melting into puddles around the palace of the gods. The palace of the ruler of the gods which burnt in the furious fire.
Because the fire was looking for him.
And for all his strength Zeus could not beat back the fire. He could not stop it. He could only watch as his wife fled with their daughter, pondering how the flames could licks at the two women without leaving a mark. His Hestia was goddess of the hearth, a fire god in her own right, but this fire had burnt everything else in its path. What saved his quiet, often forgotten daughter? Why spare his wife, with her sharp temper and quick jealousy?
But no time to think about that, not when the fire had closed in on him, trapping him on all sides.
And then the fire turned blue.
“Hades?”
Every twisted act against his brother jumped to the front of his mind. Every heartless word. Every slap against his brother’s shoulder with strength the older god hadn’t seemed to inherit. Or perhaps this was about the realm of death he’d chained Hades to. It wasn’t his fault he’d received the heavens. They were his right. Someone needed to look over the dead.
“Whatever’s going through that thick skull of yours isn’t even close.” His brother said, moving closer. As he did the flames drew closer as well, raising so high he lost track of the sun. Perhaps they were a part of the sun. A heat even he couldn’t command, not when there was so much rage backing up his brother’s assault. “You couldn’t begin to fathom what you’ve done. Not when you’ve been doing it for so long.”
“Hades, you’re being ridiculous. What is this even about?” Zeus tried to draw himself up, tried to stare down his older brother, as he’d always been able to do. Hades shouldn’t dare to attack him. Not when he saved his siblings from their father. Not when he’d set about trapping the titans who had threatened everything. He had no right!
The fire moved in an instant, wrapping around him like chains. They burned into his arms, around his neck. And nothing he could do would throw them off.
“I’ve turned a blind eye to so many of your sins, brother. The crimes you commit against the goddesses and the human women. The crimes you commit against your bride. The crimes you commit against your children. I never really cared.”
He didn’t notice Hades moving, not with the blistering pain of the fire holding him down. He could feel his skin burning away, a painful inconvenience to a god and a death sentence to a mortal. In some spots he swore the fire had burnt to his very bones. And the whole while Hades just watched him, not gloating or grinning. Just watching.
“Your mistake, little brother, was touching what was mine.”
Somewhere past the pain and heat came the scent of jasmines and peach blossoms. The smell of tears and fear. A smell that prompted a memory.
Two memories.
The memory of a girl trailing after his brother, making sarcastic comments and making a rumbling sound that could be mistaken for a laugh. A girl, barely a woman and willing to follow the God of the Underworld out of an obligation. A woman who would stare down the King of the Gods with disgust on her face.
And then the memory of the woman he took. The woman he pressed against a wall, wearing the skin of the lover she had traded her soul for. The woman who kicked and punched and bit. The woman who eventually cried, pleading for someone to help her.
Had he even realized they were the same woman? Would he had stopped, even if he knew of his brother’s claim?
Alone in his burning kingdom the King of the Gods hung his head and waited for the punishment he knew was coming, wondering if he’d survive his brother’s rage.
---
The fire had been crackling happily since she’d settled in front of it almost three hours before. Occasionally it would dance for her, making clever shapes and twisting in fantastic ways. It would dip low, clinging to the logs that kept it alive until one of Hades’ little minions slipped in with more wood to keep the fire dancing. It seemed to wait until they had slinked away before jumping up again, happy to crackle once more.
Despite the heat Meg sat with a blanket around her, a thick ones the Fates had been weaving between seeing the future and ending lives. Once or twice Panic would try to get her to eat, or at least drink, but each time she would send him away with a wave of her hand.
The minutes turned to hours until she found herself lifted into the air. She didn’t fight, instead relaxing into the arms of the man who she had sold her soul to. In those moments it was like she was floating, up and up even if she was trapped in a cave far away from the sky. She must have muttered something silly about the sky because Hades was chuckling and she could feel it rumble through her.
“What did you do?” She asked, not sure she wanted the answer. No, she wanted the answer. She was just afraid it wouldn’t be enough.
“Burnt him down to his bones. Even for a god it’ll take some time to heal. Months. Maybe years.”
Meg found herself on the bed that Hades had given her after their first month together. It hadn’t been a kindness. It had been a requirement for getting her to stop kicking him out of his own bed. The rules of their “agreement” hadn’t included her being required to stay in the underground realm her new employer ruled over, but in her own words “there wasn’t any way she’d be passing through the gates of hell just to see if she had a job that day.” So one of the dark caves became hers, and slowly it grew a personality to match its owner. Tapestries covering the cave walls, plush pillows she’d demand from her boss after a particularly successful mission. Even some flowers that somehow managed to survive without any light.
It was her home, and it was far more comforting at the moment than a cave had any right to be.
When he put her down she pulled him after, wincing when his sharp elbow hit her side. And though he made a move to escape one sharp look and the god of the underworld found himself tucked against his minion. No use fighting. He couldn’t escape her if he wanted.
And just when he thought she had finally drifted to sleep she spoke. “Thank you.”
“For being your pillow?” He asked, knowing the joke was weak before it was finished.
“For knowing what happened. For not making me talk about it.” She paused, as though the words were stuck in her throat. Maybe they were. “For getting revenge.”
And in the dark of his underworld Hades kissed Meg’s hair as gentle as possible, should she break. Oh, she wouldn’t. Not with time. She was too strong for that. Too strong for Zeus to ever truly break her. But right now his firecracker, his wonderful Meg, was fragile. And even he could respect that.
“Anything for you, sweetheart.”
And together they slept.